Chapter 129 The End of an Era, Lu Jingming Raises a Glass to You

"Click—"

The aluminum pull-tab was ripped open violently.

This crisp sound was jarring in the deathly silent top-floor office.

White carbonated foam surged up instantly.

The foam trickled down the cold green can.

It dampened Lu Jingming's slender fingers.

Carbonated bubbles burst frantically in the air, emitting a fine "hissing" sound.

Lu Jingming pulled out a tissue.

He wiped the sticky alcohol off his hands carelessly.

He carried that five-dollar cheap green beer can in one hand and strode forward.

His old sneakers stepped onto the thick wool carpet, making no sound.

He walked to the massive, explosion-proof floor-to-ceiling window.

Outside, the once gray sky was now drizzling with fine rain.

Raindrops pelted the glass, dragging out crooked, transparent water trails.

Donghai City was shrouded in a layer of cold, damp mist.

The cross-sea bridge in the distance lit up with dim yellow fog lights.

"Chu Xuan, turn up the TV volume."

Lu Jingming stared at the water trails on the glass, his voice listless and flat.

Chu Xuan was crouching beside the sofa.

Today, he wore a red-based, black-checked patterned shirt, and his tie had long since been ripped off and lost.

The crumpled tissue in his hand was clutched damply in his palm.

He hurriedly grabbed the black remote control from the coffee table.

His thumb pressed heavily on the volume up button.

The 80-inch LCD screen on the wall instantly erupted with noisy static.

On the screen was a rainy night in Helsinki, Finland.

It was the scene of the final press conference at Nokia headquarters.

There were no flowers or red carpets on the stage.

There was only a chipped, dark blue backdrop.

The "handshake" logo, which had once taken the world by storm, looked precarious under the pale, sickly light.

Nokia's white-haired CEO stood before the microphone.

His expensive suit hung loosely on his body, looking empty.

His cheeks were sunken, and his eye sockets were rimmed with deathly gray dark circles.

The foreign media reporters below all held their cameras and lenses ready.

Blinding white flashes merged into one.

The sound of shutters was as dense as a hailstorm.

The CEO extended his withered hand.

He gripped the edge of the podium tightly, his knuckles turning pale.

"Everyone."

As soon as he opened his mouth, his voice was as hoarse as a broken acoustic guitar with snapped strings.

His dry voice, relayed through simultaneous interpretation, crashed into the Xinghai office.

"Today, Nokia has officially filed for bankruptcy reorganization with the court."

Hearing this verdict, Chu Xuan felt a fine layer of goosebumps instantly break out on his arms.

He gasped, the cold air rushing straight into his lungs.

"Good heavens."

Chu Xuan swallowed dryly, his Adam's apple bobbing with difficulty.

"This was the mobile phone hegemon that once occupied most of the globe. It's really just gone like that?"

In the corner.

Xia Weiliang was curled up in a large gaming chair, barefoot.

The hem of her dirty white lab coat dragged on the floor.

She was biting into half a peeled instant noodle sausage.

Her cheeks were bulging as she chewed with a "crunching" sound.

"What's so surprising about that?"

Xia Weiliang rolled her eyes dramatically, her messy hair shaking twice.

"Their crappy Symbian OS had code written like a tangled mess of headphone wires."

She kicked the computer tower with her toe.

"I opened up the underlying protocol interface for Xinghai Pandora to them two months ago."

"Those old men in Finland wouldn't even look at it, complaining that our code lacked pedigree."

Xia Weiliang swallowed the sausage and let out a burp that tasted like artificial flavoring.

"Sitting on a pile of broken bricks waiting to die, they deserve to be crushed."

Shen Qingqiu stood by the glass coffee table.

She wore a crisp white shirt, the collar buttoned meticulously.

Her high heels made a faint friction sound as she stepped on the carpet.

She pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on her nose.

A cold, chilling light, like that of a Wall Street female warrior, flashed behind her lenses.

"In the eyes of capital, there is no such stupid thing as sentiment."

Shen Qingqiu picked up an all-English briefing on the table.

Her slender fingers pointed at several glaring red plummeting curves.

"A week before Nokia announced bankruptcy, Wall Street short-selling institutions had already swallowed them whole."

Shen Qingqiu's voice was cold, like a knife pulled from an ice cellar.

"Those vultures from the Morgan Consortium tore Nokia's remaining patent portfolio to shreds."

"They swallowed everything, skin and bone, not leaving even a scrap for the Finlanders."

The live broadcast on TV continued.

The white-haired CEO finished reading the bankruptcy declaration in his hands.

The thin A4 papers slipped from his hands.

They fell to the floor and were scattered by the wind.

He suddenly looked up.

His eye sockets were bloodshot, red veins crawling over the whites of his eyes like spiderwebs.

Two lines of murky tears slid down his age spots.

"We didn't do anything wrong."

The CEO faced the countless cameras below, his lips trembling violently.

His voice carried the despair and confusion of being abandoned by the era.

"But for some reason, we lost."

As soon as this heartbreaking line came out.

The entire press conference scene fell into a deathly silence.

Even the most critical tech reporters put down their cameras.

Countless people in front of their screens felt as if their hearts had been squeezed hard.

Chu Xuan clutched that soaked tissue tightly.

His eyes also grew a bit hot.

He sniffled, his voice muffled.

"Boss Lu, this old man is crying too miserably."

Chu Xuan wiped away imaginary cold sweat from his forehead.

"Actually, that 'nut-cracker' phone they made back then, I used one when I was in college. It was quite drop-resistant."

Lu Jingming stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window.

His back was straight under his washed-out black T-shirt.

He looked at the slanted wind and fine rain outside the window.

Listening to the old man's pale and feeble defense on TV.

There was not a shred of pity in his eyes.

Only absolute clarity regarding the law of the technological jungle.

"Didn't do anything wrong?"

A mocking sneer rolled from Lu Jingming's throat.

He reached his right hand into his worn-out jeans pocket.

He pulled out that one-dollar green plastic lighter.

His thumb pressed onto the metal flint wheel.

"Click."

A crisp mechanical friction sound rang out in the office.

A ghostly blue flame suddenly shot out, carrying a pungent smell of kerosene.

The firelight reflected on the explosion-proof glass.

It illuminated the sharp, bone-white canine tooth on the side of Lu Jingming's face.

"In the meat grinder of technological iteration, standing still is the greatest original sin."

Lu Jingming stared at that cluster of ghostly blue on the glass.

"Their mistake was arrogance."

He casually snapped the lighter shut.

The plastic lid made a crisp sound, and the flame was instantly extinguished.

"The Americans use monopoly as a moat, and the Finlanders use sentiment as a get-out-of-jail-free card."

Lu Jingming turned around.

His gaze swept over everyone present like a poisoned steel blade.

The oppressive aura from him made Chu Xuan's legs tighten, and he subconsciously straightened his posture.

"Our Xinghai is now the absolute hegemon on mobile and PC."

Lu Jingming raised the can of cheap beer in his hand.

"But as long as anyone of you dares to let the thought of 'we've made it' pop into your head."

"The ones kneeling on that stage reading a bankruptcy declaration tomorrow will be us."

For once, Xia Weiliang didn't retort.

She stood barefoot on the edge of the chair, her expression turning grave.

She didn't even bother tearing the wrapper off the new lollipop she'd fished out.

Shen Qingqiu looked at Lu Jingming.

She knew that the technical bulldozer in this man's brain would never turn off.

Lu Jingming tilted his head back.

His Adam's apple bobbed violently twice.

"Gulp."

A large mouthful of bitter alcohol slammed down his throat and into his stomach.

The chill instantly washed away the heat in his chest.

He flipped his wrist.

He tilted the can of green beer, which was still half full, at a forty-five-degree angle.

Pale yellow liquid mixed with white foam.

Slowly poured down along the edge of the can.

"Drip."

The alcohol splashed onto the edge of the wool carpet in front of the floor-to-ceiling window.

Instantly soaking into a large, dark stain.

Emitting a sour, bitter smell of low-quality fermented wheat.

"A toast to the king of the old era."

Lu Jingming stared at the puddle of alcohol on the floor, his voice low.

As soon as the words fell.

His five fingers tightened abruptly.

"Crunch!"

The aluminum can emitted a miserable, twisting sound in his hand.

It was forcefully crushed into a twisted piece of scrap metal.

Lu Jingming flicked his wrist.

The scrap metal traced a sharp parabola in mid-air.

"Clang!"

It landed precisely in the metal trash can in the corner.

The echo reverberated in the quiet office.

He shoved one hand back into his washed-out jeans pocket.

He turned his head to look at Chu Xuan, who was still in a daze.

The corners of his mouth slowly curled up.

That sharp canine tooth flashed with a chilling light that made one's hair stand on end.

"Chu Xuan, go notify the R&D center to lock down the production line."

Lu Jingming stared at him, his eyes filled with the madness of smashing the world to rebuild it.

"I'm already bored with that framed glass screen."

"Next, it's time to crown the new king."