Chapter 114 Get out! China's core technologies are not for sale!

Ballmer's heavy breathing puffed onto the solid wood desk.

His fat chest heaved violently, pushing wrinkles into his white shirt, which was soaked through with sweat.

The figure of ten billion US dollars was like a bombshell.

It froze the very air in the office.

At the doorway.

Chu Xuan gripped the brass doorframe so hard his knuckles turned white.

He swallowed a mouthful of dry saliva, his Adam's apple scraping against his parched throat, making him wince in pain.

"T-ten billion?"

Chu Xuan's legs were shaking. "That's enough to fill in the entire Huangpu River in Donghai City..."

Shen Qingqiu did not turn around.

She stood by the coffee machine, holding a steaming cup of black coffee.

A thin layer of mist fogged up the lenses of her gold-rimmed glasses.

She looked at Lu Jingming's profile, her high heels shifting half an inch on the wool carpet.

Lu Jingming leaned back in his executive chair.

The collar of his faded black T-shirt was slightly open, and he didn't even lift his eyelids.

He held the edge of the flimsy check between his index and middle fingers.

He brought it before his eyes and examined it for two seconds under the light of the ceiling lamp.

"A cashier's check from Citibank. Looks pretty authentic."

Lu Jingming curled his lips, letting out a lazy chuckle.

He didn't put the check down.

His other hand slowly reached into the pocket of his faded jeans.

He pulled out a plastic lighter with some of its green paint chipped off.

Ballmer watched his movements, thinking the deal was done.

He bared his tobacco-stained yellow teeth, smiling until the fat on his face bunched up.

"Mr. Lu, business is about win-win situations."

Ballmer took a handkerchief from his suit's inner pocket and wiped the oily sweat from his bald head again.

"If you take this money, Xinghai can still comfortably sell mobile phones in China."

He leaned forward and patted the glass coffee table with his large palm.

"Let us old bones wade through the muddy waters of the PC market."

Lu Jingming didn't respond.

He pressed his thumb against the metal flint wheel of the lighter.

"Click."

A crisp mechanical grinding sound rang out in the quiet office.

A deep blue flame suddenly shot out, carrying the pungent smell of low-quality kerosene.

The smile on Ballmer's face froze.

Lu Jingming flipped his wrist and brought the flame directly to the edge of the gold-embossed check.

The tongue of fire instantly licked the expensive paper.

"Sizzle—"

The fire flared up, and the flames devoured the paper, racing upwards along the edges.

The firelight turned Ballmer's stunned face red.

His eyes widened bit by bit, and bloodshot veins instantly covered the whites of his eyes.

"W-what are you doing!"

Ballmer's voice cracked instantly, like a fat goose with its neck stepped on.

His massive, hundreds-of-pounds body sprang up from the sofa.

His knees hit the glass coffee table, making a dull, loud thud.

The two cups of black coffee on top were knocked over, and brown liquid spilled all over the table.

Chu Xuan was dumbfounded at the doorway.

The crumpled tissue in his hand dropped to his feet; his mouth hung open, and his dentures nearly fell out.

That was ten billion US dollars!

Just like that, he burned it?

Lu Jingming's eyes were as cold as a blade pulled from an ice cellar.

He held the unburned corner of the check, letting the flames consume the rest.

"What am I doing? Showing you a magic trick."

Lu Jingming stared at the rising flames, revealing half of his stark white canine teeth.

The smell of burnt paper quickly permeated the air-conditioned cold breeze.

When the flames were about to reach his fingertips.

Lu Jingming gave his wrist a light flick.

The ashes, which carried the temptation of ten billion US dollars, instantly scattered in mid-air.

The black paper ash fell down in flurries, like snow.

Lu Jingming stood up.

His old sneakers made no sound on the thick wool carpet.

He leaned forward across the desk.

He extended his finger, stained with black ash, and slapped it directly onto Ballmer's wrist, which was held high in the air.

The ash instantly soiled the cuff of Ballmer's seven-thousand-dollar custom-made suit.

Leaving an eye-catching black mark.

"You're crazy! Lu Jingming, you are absolutely crazy!"

Ballmer stared fixedly at the paper ash on his cuff, his fat trembling all over.

He gasped for air, sweat pouring down like a waterfall.

"You are declaring war on all of Seattle, on the entire American tech alliance!"

Ballmer pointed at Lu Jingming's nose, his finger trembling as if electrified.

"Without our Windows ecosystem, your piece-of-junk metal shells won't be able to take a single step outside of China!"

Lu Jingming sneered.

He pulled a tissue from the table and slowly wiped the black ash from between his fingers.

"Declaring war? I've even pulled the plug on The Pentagon's network; do you think I'm afraid of your Seattle?"

Lu Jingming crumpled the blackened tissue into a ball and threw it at Ballmer's chest.

The paper ball rolled onto the floor.

"Listen well, fatty."

Lu Jingming dropped his lazy demeanor, his eyes becoming oppressive.

He pressed his hands against the edge of the desk, staring fixedly into Ballmer's eyes.

"In the past, you relied on that bloated x86 instruction set to forcibly collect protection money from the whole world."

"Our Chinese manufacturers had to use your system and still had to cater to your whims."

Lu Jingming snorted, his voice low.

"Cutting off supplies at the drop of a hat, raising licensing fees whenever you pleased."

He pointed out the glass window, at the long lines of customers at the Xinghai store in Donghai City under the scorching sun.

"Times have changed. From today on, the Chinese people won't have to look at your faces while writing code."

Ballmer's Adam's apple bobbed violently.

He wanted to retort, but he found his throat felt as if it had been stuffed with hay; he couldn't utter a single syllable.

The shirt on his back was completely stuck to his skin, feeling cold and clammy.

Lu Jingming threw the lighter in his hand onto the desk.

The plastic casing hit the glass with a crisp clatter.

"Don't even talk about ten billion US dollars."

Lu Jingming curled his lips. "Even if you emptied the entire Federal Reserve and put it here."

He enunciated each word, each one hitting Ballmer's eardrums like a hammer.

"Not a single byte of Xinghai's underlying technology will ever leave the country."

There was a deathly silence in the office.

Only the "whooshing" white noise from the air conditioner remained.

Ballmer collapsed like a pile of mud back into the leather sofa, which had been pressed into a deep pit.

His gleaming bald head drooped low.

His eyes stared fixedly at the bit of black paper ash on the carpet, his eyes filled with the despair of being crushed by a superior force.

He knew.

The table that Microsoft had been eating safely from for thirty years had been completely overturned today.

Even the table legs had been burned to ash.

Lu Jingming brushed the remaining paper ash off his hands.

He straightened up and shoved his hands back into the pockets of his faded jeans.

His gaze crossed over the limp Ballmer and looked at Shen Qingqiu to the side.

"Shen Qingqiu, see the guest out."

Lu Jingming looked at Ballmer's dejected and miserable state, a cold laugh rolling in his throat.

He turned his head, his half-exposed canine tooth flashing with a cold, chilling light.

"Oh right, tell the security guards at the door. From now on, any dogs from Seattle are strictly forbidden from entering."