There was no denying that Mr. Zuckerberg was very confident.
His confidence had not come out of nowhere. Facebook's market capitalization exceeded five hundred billion U.S. dollars, so a 5% stake really was worth more than twenty billion.
That was an enormous fortune, already comparable to Phantom Immortal Technology's total revenue since its founding.
Moreover, Facebook was still growing, and those shares still had room to appreciate.
If the two parties struck this deal, it might become the most expensive single transaction in information technology, whether in software or hardware.
Phantom Immortal Technology would have to provide very little—merely a license to use a piece of software. No matter how one looked at it, it was a sure profit.
A faint smile touched Shen Bing's lips. "Mr. Zuckerberg, actually, I'm not interested in making money."
Mr. Zuckerberg's mouth twitched, and his face practically screamed, Motherfucker.
Damn, you're a businessman, yet you claim you're not interested in making money. Don't you feel like a hypocrite?
Even if you're not purely a businessman and lean more toward being a researcher, you still can't say you're not interested in making money, can you?
"Mr. Shen, I don't understand what you mean," Zuckerberg managed to squeeze out.
Shen Bing said, "Here's the thing. I have a strong need for control, and I don't like anything slipping out of my hands. To prevent that, I'd rather sacrifice most of the profits. Does that make it clear?"
Mr. Zuckerberg froze briefly, then a glimmer of understanding flashed in his eyes.
He understood what Shen Bing meant, but inwardly, he felt utterly miserable.
Shen Bing's assessment of himself was undoubtedly accurate. The fact that Phantom Immortal Technology, a company with such tremendous potential, had chosen not to go public showed just how pronounced that trait was.
Anyone