Chapter 53 Hijacking the Deal! Holding a press conference three days earlier than Apple.

Old Li was so anxious he paced circles in the office, his shoe soles scraping against the wooden floor with a harsh "creak."

"Young Master, our xinghai gen 2 has been on the market for less than a month!"

The old man took off his thick-rimmed glasses and frantically wiped them with the corner of his white lab coat.

"Where are we supposed to conjure up a new phone to go head-to-head with Apple now? We can't just use an empty shell to scam people!"

Chu Xuan was also worried.

He tugged at the collar of his floral shirt, his face twisted into a grimace.

"Boss Lu, Apple has been preparing this ace for ten years. We're just scrambling at the last minute; this battle is unwinnable."

Lu Jingming didn't answer.

He snatched the eraser off the table and walked to the conference room whiteboard, wiping the shipment data clean in a few quick swipes.

He turned around, grabbed a black marker, and with a flick of his wrist, drew a crisp, clean rectangle right in the center of the whiteboard.

Lu Jingming didn't stop, drawing a border around the rectangle.

"Old Li, come take a look."

He tapped the whiteboard, producing a dull "thud-thud" sound.

Old Li stepped closer, squinting at it for a long time.

"Isn't this just a block of glass? Where's the keyboard? Why is even the chin at the bottom gone!"

Chu Xuan was also stunned.

"Boss Lu, did you draw a floor tile?"

He gestured with his old phone.

"There isn't even a physical button; how do you operate it? With telepathy?"

Lu Jingming tossed the marker onto the table.

"Anything with buttons is a relic of a bygone era."

He opened a drawer, pulled out a silver metal USB drive, and slapped it onto the edge of the table.

"What I'm going to build is a monster that's nothing but a screen on the front. This is called a true Full-screen Display."

The door was shoved open.

Xia Weiliang walked in, nibbling on a spicy snack stick, followed by Old Zhou.

Lu Jingming tossed the USB drive over, and Old Zhou scrambled to catch it.

"Old Zhou, the blueprints and packaging process are all inside."

Lu Jingming leaned against the table, his eyes sharp as an eagle's.

"Take Xia Weiliang's system team and get into Lab No. 1. Eat, sleep, and live in there."

He held up one finger.

"Half a month. If you can't produce a working prototype, you'll be eating nothing but cabbage stalks from now on."

Old Zhou gripped the USB drive tightly in his palm, his face flushed red.

He understood the weight of these blueprints all too well.

"Half a month! If I can't deliver, I, Zhou Hong, will lay my head on the line!"

Xia Weiliang stopped chewing her snack, two flames of fanaticism burning in her eyes.

She grabbed Old Zhou's sleeve and bolted for the door.

The lab door slammed shut.

Lu Jingming turned to look at Chu Xuan, who was still dazed.

"Chu Xuan, how much cash do we have on hand?"

Chu Xuan smacked his lips and cited an astronomical figure.

"After accounting for inventory and the land purchase, we still have nearly two billion sitting in the corporate account."

"Good."

Lu Jingming sat back in his office chair, crossing his legs.

"Allocate ten million USD. We're going to do something exhilarating."

Chu Xuan's eyes widened, his tongue tripping over itself.

"Ten million USD? Boss Lu, are we looking to acquire some factory?"

"Buying ads."

Lu Jingming pulled out a plastic lighter and lit a cigarette, the flame illuminating the calculating look on his face.

"Go to New York Times Square and book the largest screen at NASDAQ for me."

Chu Xuan gasped, his scalp tingling.

That was the financial heart of the United States; the daily advertising fee was astronomical.

"What are we putting on it? Our xinghai gen 2 promo video?" Chu Xuan asked tentatively.

Lu Jingming exhaled a puff of smoke.

"A promo video would be too tacky."

His fingers tapped an oppressive rhythm on the solid wood desk.

"Black background, white text. Just write 'Xinghai Pro' in pinyin."

"And put a countdown timer below it. Use the largest Arabic numerals possible."

Chu Xuan hurriedly pulled out his notebook and scribbled furiously.

"When should the countdown end? The same day as Apple's launch?"

"How is it a preemptive strike if it's the same day?"

Lu Jingming flicked the ash from his cigarette, a fierce smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Calculate exactly when Old Qiao is holding his launch. Our countdown must hit zero exactly three days before his."

Chu Xuan's hand shook, and his pen left a long black streak across the paper.

He gulped, a chill running down his spine.

"Boss Lu, you're essentially dancing on the grave of Silicon Valley!"

The pride of the Americans, in the face of this countdown board, was being dragged through the dirt.

"Go do it."

Lu Jingming stubbed out his cigarette, his voice laced with unquestionable arrogance.

"I want foreign netizens to stare at that board and curse up a storm every single day for the next two weeks."

"The harder they curse, the harder their faces will sting when they get slapped."

This brazen billboard caused an absolute sensation in New York Times Square.

The black screen with white text stood like a sharp knife plunged into the heart of the bustling street.

The ticking red Arabic numerals, counting down every second, crazily frayed the nerves of the locals.

The flame war on Twitter spiraled completely out of control.

"Shameless Chinese copycat factory! How dare they put this in Times Square!"

"Xinghai? Is this that trash company that's trying to troll us with broken English?"

"They actually dare to hold their launch three days before Apple? I'll be waiting to watch these bumpkins make a fool of themselves!"

The overseas media, like sharks smelling blood, scrambled to buy tickets to Donghai City.

They planned to use their cameras and microphones to nail Xinghai Technology to the pillar of shame in tech history on the day of the launch.

Two weeks later.

The Donghai City New International Expo Center was buzzing with noise.

Outside the venue, broadcast trucks bearing the logos of various foreign media outlets were parked everywhere.

Several blonde, blue-eyed foreign reporters gathered at the entrance, cups of coffee in hand, their eyes filled with disdain.

A bearded white reporter pointed at the Xinghai poster outside the venue and mocked his companion loudly.

"Charlie, this place doesn't even have decent security."

He curled his lip.

"I bet the inside reeks of cheap plastic."

The reporter named Charlie shrugged, shaking the voice recorder in his hand.

"Don't set your expectations too high. What do the Chinese know about industrial design?"

"They only know how to stuff heavy batteries into iron shells."

The two chatted unreservedly in English, their laughter sharp and grating.

The venue doors were pushed open.

Chu Xuan walked out with long strides, wearing a sharp suit with his work badge pinned to his chest.

He couldn't understand complex English, but he could smell the arrogance on the foreigners' faces with his eyes closed.

Chu Xuan gestured to the security guard nearby.

The guard immediately pulled back the red cordon, allowing the group of foreign reporters to enter.

As Charlie passed by Chu Xuan, he deliberately mocked him in broken Chinese.

"I heard your new phone has no buttons?"

Charlie raised his eyebrows high.

"Are you expecting us to use magic to operate it?"

Chu Xuan stopped and turned to look at him.

He grinned, revealing a set of neat white teeth, his smile radiant.

"Magic is a bit too mystical. We Chinese are all about materialism."

Chu Xuan reached out, straightened the foreigner's crooked tie, and lowered his voice.

"Hurry inside and find a good seat in the front row."

"I'm afraid that once the lights go out later, you won't even be able to find where your jaw dropped."