122: Chapter 123 The Ticket to the National Team! A Closed-Door Game Without the Involvement of Internet Giants

Shen Du sat in his spacious leather executive chair.

His deep gaze was fixed on the invitation letter on his desk, embossed with a dark gold national emblem.

The weight of this document was heavier than any of the ten-billion-level business negotiations he had participated in before.

Shen Du was crystal clear about the situation. He understood it perfectly.

Although Jiyuan Technology was currently at its peak and had the word "Technology" in its name,

in the eyes of outsiders and even at the official macro level, the Xinghuo Platform was, to put it bluntly, just an entertainment company involved in live streaming and the influencer economy.

And Meituan, which generated millions of orders every day, was essentially just a "delivery errand" enterprise providing local life services.

According to the strict standards used by the state to classify industries, this kind of "model innovation" relying on the mobile internet simply did not meet the threshold for foundational hard-core technology.

For an official high-tech heavy industry conference of this caliber, logically speaking, he would not even have the qualifications to stand at the door and listen in.

To verify his guess, Shen Du slightly flipped through the list of attendees that Chen Fei had spent a heavy sum to investigate and compile overnight from various channels.

The contents of this document caused a flash of realization and gravity to cross Shen Du's eyes. As expected.

The entire domestic internet industry—those giants that usually dominated the media and had valuations of tens or hundreds of billions of dollars, whether it was JD.com and Alibaba Group in e-commerce, Tencent in social gaming, or even search giants like Baidu—were completely absent from this invitation list!

Those who could legitimately receive this invitation and had the qualifications to sit in that conference room at the Dongjiao Hotel were all "National Team" members and hard-core industrial giants that truly got their hands dirty, relentlessly focusing on foundational technology and heavy industrial manufacturing.

Shen Du scanned those names line by line: the two communication giants from the south, Huawei and ZTE; BOE, which was burning money in the bottomless pit of display panels; SMIC, which held the lifeline of wafer foundry; Siasun Robot & Automation, which worked on industrial automation; DJI, which was still grinding away in the field of drone flight control; as well as BYD...

In this long list, which was enough to represent the backbone of Chinese industry, the only "acquaintances" Shen Du could recognize were Li Jianfeng, who represented heavy industry and high-end manufacturing in Shanghai, and Su Yunjing, the leader in medical and biopharmaceuticals.

What made Shen Du feel even more baffled was this: according to the standards of hard technology, Qin Zhengye, the absolute confidant who managed Sheng Tang Communications and the thermal power group, possessed a massive foundation in communication infrastructure and energy, and should have been an honored guest at this meeting. Yet, strangely, Qin Zhengye had not received an invitation.

"To shove me, a guy who does internet business, into a pile of big shots who make chips and base stations, while kicking out Qin Zhengye, who actually handles infrastructure..." Shen Du tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, a meaningful cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth.

Although there was an indescribable weirdness and anomaly in this, Shen Du pondered for a moment and still decided to tuck the invitation into his pocket.

A closed-door official meeting of this level—no matter what deep-water bomb was hidden inside, he, Shen Du, had to go and find out for himself.

March 18th, 8:30 AM. Several black sedans with special passes drove low-key into the heavily guarded Dongjiao Hotel.

As the state guesthouse in Shanghai specifically used to receive the highest-level dignitaries, the security specifications here were staggering.

Within the dense landscaping along the way, armed security personnel were faintly visible, and the air carried a sense of solemnity that was imposing without being angry.

Since Xu Hao was still busy with laboratory matters, it was General Manager Chen Shengqiang who followed Shen Du step by step, carrying a briefcase and preparing to take meeting minutes.

Walking through the heavy solid wood doors and stepping into the conference hall carpeted in dark red, Shen Du keenly sensed that the atmosphere here was completely different from the internet business summits he usually attended, which were filled with clinking glasses and mutual flattery.

The entire venue was quiet, solemn, and even carried a hint of oppression. Shen Du's hawk-like gaze quickly swept around the hall.

Sure enough, almost every face within his field of vision was a stranger.

Apart from the local "land-snakes" of Shanghai, such as several executives from SMIC, and the heavy industry giant Li Jianfeng and medical/pharmaceutical leader Su Yunjing, whom he already knew well and who were present as the power-holders themselves,

the rest of those sitting behind the nameplates appeared exceptionally low-key. Those famous out-of-town hard-tech giants on the list, such as Huawei, ZTE, and DJI from Shenzhen in the south, or BOE from Beijing, had not sent their true "number one leaders" to attend. Instead, they had tacitly dispatched high-level agents or regional vice presidents to show their faces on their behalf.

Looking at the seemingly calm but actually clearly demarcated seating arrangement in the venue, a knowing arc curled at the corner of Shen Du's mouth, and he saw through the deep implications behind this at a glance.

Between technology companies in various regions across the country, there had actually always been a fierce and hidden undercurrent of competition. Because at their scale, the existence of a company was no longer just a simple commercial activity.

The landing and development of a high-end hard-core technology industrial chain could often drive massive employment for tens or even hundreds of thousands of people upstream and downstream. This directly concerned a city's GDP foundation, major plans for people's livelihoods, and even the core political achievements of the local administrators.

These out-of-town tech giants were all the "stabilizing needles" and "darlings" in the hands of the officials in their respective provinces and cities. Now that the Shanghai officials were personally organizing a meeting of the highest specifications, these out-of-town conglomerates naturally had to maintain a subtle sense of precaution and distance.

Sending an agent to listen in and probe for information was fine. But if they wanted the actual helmsmen to run to Shanghai's territory to "pay their respects," that was absolutely impossible. This was the rule of the game for the clash between top-tier capital and officialdom.

And today, he, Shen Du, was going to use an abrupt identity to forcefully insert himself into this strictly regulated card game.

Shen Du did not deliberately crowd toward the front row. Instead, he took General Manager Chen Shengqiang and found an inconspicuous spot in the middle-back of the venue, sitting down quietly.

Under the cover of the low-voiced conversations of the representatives around him, Shen Du lowered his eyelids slightly and leaned back in his chair. Silently, he awakened the system in his mind and directly brought up the 'Geomantic Map' that could overlook the entire business landscape.

However, the moment the virtual light screen representing the power landscape of Shanghai unfolded on his retina, Shen Du's usually steady pupils couldn't help but shrink violently.

The previously triggered "Devouring Mountains and Seas" special mission had rules that were clearly written: as long as the points of any faction fluctuated by ten percent, one could obtain rich special rewards.

Having experienced the business war of the century not long ago that had decimated the Beijing Circle capital, his own White Faction's points had originally climbed to a certain height.

But at this moment, the progress bar on the panel representing the White Faction had plummeted like an avalanche, without any warning, down to a mere 45%!