Five Broke Friends and a $60,000 Dream: How Ma Huateng Built a Trillion-Dollar Empire from Nothing

Imagine you have just $60,000 to split between five friends. What would you do with it? Buy property? Invest in stocks? Open a small shop?

In November 1998, in the bustling city of Shenzhen, five young men faced exactly this choice. They clutched 500,000 yuan ($60,000) in their hands—the minimum capital required to register a company at the time, and literally everything they owned. If you were in their shoes, would you dare bet this money on a future you couldn't even be sure of?

This is the story of how that impossible bet became Tencent—one of the world's most valuable companies.

What you'll learn from Ma Huateng's story:

• How to launch a startup with extremely limited resources
• Why complementary partner skills beat going solo
• How to spot massive market potential in small opportunities
• Why focus and persistence are the keys to entrepreneurial success

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A Small Decision in Shenzhen Nanshan

November 11, 1998—a date that would later become known as "Singles' Day"—held special significance for 27-year-old Ma Huateng. On this day, he and his university classmate Zhang Zhidong walked into the Shenzhen Industrial and Commercial Bureau to officially register "Shenzhen Tencent Computer Systems Co., Ltd."

The Fate of Four Backup Names

Here's a fascinating detail: they had prepared four backup names—Wangxun, Jiexun, Feixun, and Tencent. When they arrived at the registration office, the first three names had already been taken. Only "Tencent" was available.

Ma Huateng later reflected: "If 'Wangxun' hadn't been registered that day, maybe there would be no Tencent today." Sometimes fate hinges on the most random moments—a single choice that shapes an entire era.

The name "Tencent" carried two meanings: it incorporated the character "Teng" from Ma Huateng's name, and "Teng" itself symbolizes soaring and growth. Looking back, it seems like destiny.

Their Entire Fortune: $60,000

500,000 yuan ($60,000)—that was Tencent's total startup capital. In 1998, this wasn't insignificant—Shenzhen property cost less than $400 per square meter, and a typical engineer earned just a few hundred dollars monthly. But for five young entrepreneurs splitting the cost, each contributed only 100,000 yuan ($12,000).

Where did this money come from? Ma Huateng's "first pot of gold" came from stock trading. He had turned 100,000 yuan into 700,000 yuan, giving him the foundation for independent entrepreneurship. The other four partners contributed their savings.

Zhang Zhidong, Ma Huateng's university classmate and computer genius, handled technology. Xu Chenye, also from the Class of '89 Computer Science, was steady and reliable. Chen Yidan, from the Class of '89 Applied Chemistry, would become Tencent's "housekeeper." Zeng Liqing, a friend from the paging company, brought market experience.

Five people, 500,000 yuan, one dream.

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The Cramped Office That Changed Everything

Twenty Square Meters of Dreams

Their first office was in the SEG Science and Technology Park—a modest 20-square-meter space that could barely fit five desks and chairs. The furniture was second-hand, the chairs mismatched. Sometimes, to save money, they slept directly in the office.

"We developed right there in that small room, five people crammed together, with second-hand desks and makeshift chairs," a Tencent founder recalled years later. "Sometimes, to work out a feature, we'd discuss until deep into the night, even sleeping in the office."

This wasn't romanticizing poverty—it was pure necessity. Every penny had to be stretched. They often ate boxed lunches in the office for lunch, sometimes sharing dishes to save money.

But in this cramped space, something magical was happening. Without external distractions, investor pressures, or media attention, five friends focused entirely on one goal: building a great product.

The Birth of OICQ

What were they actually building? A Chinese instant messaging software called OICQ—the predecessor to QQ.

At the time, the global instant messaging market was dominated by ICQ, an Israeli product with an English interface that was difficult for Chinese users to navigate. Ma Huateng saw the opportunity: "We need our own Chinese networking software. We need our own ICQ!"

But the path wasn't smooth. Initially, they planned to develop OICQ and sell it to a major company. They even wrote project proposals and began development. When bidding time came, Tencent didn't win the contract.

Faced with this setback, they made a crucial decision: "Let's do OICQ ourselves."

The entire bidding price had been just over 300,000 yuan. If that major company hadn't planned to invest in Chinese ICQ, there would be no OICQ. If Tencent had won the bid, there would be no Tencent OICQ. In some sense, Tencent's success was half luck, half capability.

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The Darkest Hour Before Dawn

User Growth and Capital Crunch

By early 1999, OICQ was gaining traction. User registrations grew from hundreds to thousands, then tens of thousands. But growth brought new problems—server costs.

Every new user meant additional server expenses, bandwidth costs, and maintenance fees. The 500,000 yuan was rapidly depleting, but they still couldn't see a clear path to profitability.

"We were really desperate then," Ma Huateng later recalled. "We'd made so much effort but couldn't see hope for profit. Without investment, we probably couldn't survive past 2000."

The Temptation to Sell

The pressure was so intense that Ma Huateng seriously considered selling OICQ. He approached several companies, hoping to sell this "burden" that was burning through cash.

But potential buyers didn't see OICQ's value. Some offered derisory prices, others wanted only the technology, not the users. One company was willing to pay 600,000 yuan for the entire OICQ system—barely more than their initial investment.

Fortunately, no deal materialized. Ma Huateng later said: "If we had sold OICQ then, it would have been the biggest mistake of my life."

The Turning Point

Just when things seemed hopeless, salvation arrived. IDG and PCCW Hong Kong invested $2.2 million for 40% of Tencent's shares. This investment not only solved their capital crisis but validated their direction.

"That investment saved Tencent," Ma Huateng reflected. "More importantly, it gave us confidence that we were on the right path."

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Lessons from the Cramped Office

Resource Constraints Breed Innovation

Looking back, that cramped office and tight budget weren't obstacles—they were advantages. Resource constraints forced them to focus on what truly mattered: building a product users loved.

"If we'd had too much money initially, we might have lost focus," Zhang Zhidong observed. "Limited resources forced us to concentrate on our core mission."

The Power of Complementary Skills

The five founders brought different but complementary skills:

• Ma Huateng: Product vision and leadership
• Zhang Zhidong: Technical architecture and development
• Chen Yidan: Operations and management
• Xu Chenye: Product development and user experience
• Zeng Liqing: Market insight and business development

This wasn't coincidental—it was Ma Huateng's deliberate choice. He understood that successful startups need diverse skills, not just technical brilliance.

Persistence in the Face of Doubt

Perhaps most importantly, they persisted when others doubted. When competitors seemed ahead, when money ran low, when potential buyers undervalued their work—they kept building.

"Entrepreneurship requires a certain stubbornness," Ma Huateng said. "You have to believe in your vision even when others don't see it."

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From $60,000 to Hundreds of Billions

Today, Tencent is worth over $400 billion, serving billions of users worldwide. WeChat alone has over 1.2 billion monthly active users. That cramped 20-square-meter office has become a global technology empire.

But the principles that drove those five young men in 1998 remain unchanged: focus on user value, complement each other's strengths, and persist through uncertainty.

Ma Huateng often says: "Tencent's success is half luck, half capability." The luck was being in the right place at the right time. The capability was having the vision to see opportunity where others saw problems, and the persistence to turn that vision into reality.

For today's entrepreneurs, Tencent's origin story offers a powerful reminder: you don't need perfect conditions to start something great. You need the right people, unwavering focus, and the courage to bet on a future you believe in—even when you're starting with just $60,000 and a dream.

The question isn't whether you have enough resources to begin. The question is whether you have enough determination to continue when resources run low, when others doubt you, and when the path forward isn't clear.

That's the real lesson from five friends in a cramped office who dared to dream big.