Chapter 118 Wireless Charging Technology: Competitors Still Think It's Not Good Enough

Xia Weiliang's scream pierced through the soundproofing panels of the core server room.

The voice-activated lights in the corridor flickered twice in response.

A few days later, a special tender document for electronic components, stamped with the bright red seal of Xinghai Technology, was quietly dropped into the supply chain market of the Yangtze River Delta.

Like a depth charge dropped into a cesspit, it blew the industry wide open.

In the top-floor office of the Xinghai building,

the air conditioner was blowing out white mist, keeping the room temperature at twenty degrees Celsius.

Chu Xuan grabbed his flashy red tie with yellow flowers and kicked open the solid wood door, rushing inside.

He was panting like an old ox that had just finished plowing a field.

In his hand, he clutched a crumpled tissue he always kept on hand, desperately wiping away the waterfall of greasy sweat pouring down his forehead.

"Boss Lu, the scalpers over at Huaqiangbei have all gone crazy!" Chu Xuan swallowed dryly, his throat feeling like it was on fire.

He strode to the desk and slammed his hand down on it.

"That list you put together—RF antennas, microwave piezoelectric ceramics—there's practically no stock of this stuff on the market!"

Chu Xuan was so anxious he kept slapping his thigh. "Even those big contract manufacturers in Taiwan have called, asking if we're switching our business to build radar!"

Lu Jingming sat in his leather executive chair.

He was still wearing that washed-out black T-shirt, his legs sprawled out, crossed over the edge of the dark office desk.

He held a one-dollar green plastic lighter in his hand.

His thumb pressed against the flint wheel. "Click."

A ghostly blue flame shot up, illuminating one side of his sharp, white canine tooth.

"If there's no stock, tell them to open the molds overnight," Lu Jingming said, casually snuffing out the flame, the plastic cap making a crisp sound. "Buy them at ten percent above market price. Are we keeping the US dollars in our account to breed more money?"

Shen Qingqiu walked over, her high heels making a "click-clack" sound.

The collar of her white shirt was buttoned meticulously.

She pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses and slammed a financial report onto the desk.

"Procuring the goods isn't a problem," Shen Qingqiu said, her face cold as her long fingers tapped on the astronomical figures in the spreadsheet.

"But I have to remind you that the procurement volume for this batch of microwave RF components has already exceeded the annual consumption of all military industrial enterprises in the country."

Shen Qingqiu's gaze swept across Lu Jingming's face like a knife.

"Xia Weiliang was demanding a budget from me like a madwoman last night. What in the hell kind of new creature are you trying to build?"

Lu Jingming curled the corner of his mouth.

He didn't answer, instead pulling his legs back from the desk.

His fingers tapped a death-knell rhythm on the glass tabletop, making a "tap-tap" sound.

"How much money have the foreigners made in the past few years just selling those crappy data cables?"

He looked up, a fierce glint in his eyes that looked like he wanted to pierce the sky. "Prepare a coffin lid for Cook. From now on, any electronic device that needs a cable is nothing but garbage that belongs in the trash can."

On the other side of the ocean, in Cupertino, California.

The circular glass curtain wall of the Apple headquarters building shimmered with a cold, hard light under the blinding sun.

In the core conference room on the top floor, the air conditioning was blasting.

The Greater China Executive stood by the projector, his expensive shirt soaked through with cold sweat on his back, sticking to his skin.

He gripped the laser pointer tightly in his hand.

A red dot shone on the screen, highlighting a Xinghai tender list obtained through the gray market.

"Boss, this is it." The Greater China Executive's Adam's Apple bobbed violently, his voice trembling. "Our informant in Huaqiangbei risked everything to send this out. Xinghai has swept up all the spatial phased array components on the market."

Cook sat at the head of the long conference table.

He crossed his fingers, rubbing his thumbs hard against the back of his hands, his knuckles turning a corpse-like pale white.

A few days ago, the xinghai matebook had beaten Microsoft's PC business to a pulp.

The photo of Ballmer being thrown out of the Xinghai gates like a dog was still trending on Twitter.

This had given Cook nightmares for several nights in a row, dreaming of Lu Jingming skinning him alive.

"Phased array components? RF antennas?" Cook gritted his back teeth, making a dull grinding sound. "They're building phones; why are they buying things used for radar?"

At the other end of the conference table sat three white-haired old men.

These were the top physics experts in Silicon Valley, honorary professors from Stanford.

One of the old men pushed up his reading glasses.

He stared at the densely packed list, his expression as comical as if he had seen a ghost.

"Mr. Cook, there's no need to guess," the old professor sighed, pushing a stack of calculation papers to the center of the table.

The papers were filled with complex spatial electromagnetic field equations. "This is a design list for a spatial microwave transmission array. The Chinese want to implement ultra-long-range wireless charging in their next-generation devices."

There was a deathly silence in the conference room.

You could hear a pin drop.

Cook's eyelids twitched violently, and his eyes instantly filled with red bloodshot veins.

Over-the-air charging? Apple had just bitten the bullet and launched a magnetic charger at their autumn product launch.

It generated so much heat that it could burn through a user's pocket.

Once the coil temperature exceeded fifty degrees, the system would be forced to throttle down and crash, turning into a scalding hot black brick.

Even this semi-finished product had already been ripped to shreds by digital bloggers on foreign networks.

Xinghai was now skipping physical contact and going straight for over-the-air power supply?

"Fuck!" Cook slammed his hand on the solid wood table.

It shook the bone china coffee cup nearby violently, and the dark brown liquid splashed out, staining the expensive carpet.

"This is impossible! The efficiency of this kind of ultra-long-range wireless transmission wouldn't even reach one percent!"

He pointed at the physicists, his eyes bloodshot. "Didn't you write a paper saying that as soon as the distance exceeds two centimeters, the decay rate of magnetic resonance drops off a cliff!"

The old professor calmly used a tissue to wipe the coffee that had splashed onto his cuff.

He leaned back in his chair, his tone carrying the arrogance of academia. "Boss, don't get excited. This is indeed an iron law of physics; no one can violate it."

The old professor held up two fingers and gestured in the air. "Energy transmitted through the air dissipates geometrically. To charge a phone with even one watt of power from five meters away, the transmitter would need to output several thousand watts of microwaves."

Another bald expert quickly chimed in. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, wearing a mocking smile. "Exactly! If Xinghai really forces this kind of ultra-high-power microwave transmitter, the user's room would turn into a giant microwave oven!"

The bald expert patted his sunken chest confidently, spittle flying everywhere. "After less than five minutes of being turned on, the phone's battery would definitely explode on the spot. The people in the room would also be roasted by radiation hundreds of times over the limit! Lu Jingming is building a weapon of mass destruction!"

Hearing this, the Greater China Executive's heart, which had been hanging in his throat, slowed down a little.

He loosened his tight silk tie and let out a long breath. "So, you're saying Lu Jingming took too big a step this time and tripped over his own feet?"

"He is challenging the second law of thermodynamics," the old professor snorted coldly. "Young people in China don't know their place once they have a little money. Science has boundaries; you can't buy a breakthrough in physics just by throwing US dollars at it."

Cook's tense shoulders slowly slumped.

He let out a long, heavy breath, venting all the frustration from his lungs.

He relaxed his fingers, and the white marks on the back of his hands slowly returned to their normal color.

For a moment there, he really thought Lu Jingming was about to pull out some black magic that would disrupt the industry.

It turned out to be just a science-fiction dream from someone who didn't know what they were doing.

Cook stood up.

He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking down at the blinding California sun, feeling that the sun looked particularly pleasant today.

If Xinghai pushed this highly radioactive, explosive semi-finished product at their launch event,

it wouldn't just burn their trillion-dollar market value to ash.

It would even lead to class-action lawsuits from global consumers.

Lu Jingming was putting his own neck into the noose.

Cook turned around and picked up the freshly refilled cup of hot coffee on the table.

The bitter liquid slid down his throat, leaving his stomach feeling warm.

His heart, which had been hanging for so long, finally settled back into place.

"The Chinese have gotten ahead of themselves. They are trying to break the iron laws of physics."

Cook let out a cold laugh, the bottom of his cup hitting the mahogany table with a dull thud.

He tilted his head, the corner of his mouth curling into a look of assured victory, his gaze fixing on the Greater China Executive like a viper.

"Go and keep a close watch on the date of the Xinghai launch event."

A calculating, vicious glint flashed in Cook's eyes.

"When the launch happens, remember to send them two floral wreaths for me. And bring a radiation detector to the scene while you're at it."