Chapter 66: Gaotong Announces Supply Cut to Xinghai Processors, Causing Uproar Online

The disheveled backs of Paul and his entourage had just vanished outside the glass door.

The tense air in the conference room hadn't even had time to circulate.

The phone in Chu Xuan's pocket started vibrating violently, like a death warrant.

He scrambled to pull it out and lit up the screen.

With just one glance, his face beneath his center-parted hair turned as pale as window-pasting paper.

"Boss Lu! The Americans have made their move!"

Chu Xuan shrieked at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking like a duck that had its tail stepped on.

"Qualcomm headquarters just issued a global announcement on Twitter, declaring a complete supply cut to our Xinghai!"

Old Li's legs went weak, and he fell back into his chair with a 'thud.'

"So fast?"

The old man slapped his thigh in anxiety, his thick-rimmed glasses fogged with cold sweat.

"This clearly shows they had the press release written long ago, just waiting for Paul to smash that cup as a signal!"

On the projector still running in the conference room, Chu Xuan hastily projected a screenshot from the foreign website.

The joint statement was in pure English, in bold black type.

It hung like a blood-stained butcher's knife directly over the head of Xinghai Technology.

It wasn't just Qualcomm.

Over a dozen global semiconductor giants, constrained by the Americans' underlying cross-licensing patents, lined up as if on cue, uniformly forwarding this supply-cut agreement.

Memory chips, RF basebands, and even the most basic sensors—they were being blacklisted across the board.

The xinghai pro, the phone with a true Full-screen Display that had stunned the world, was facing a dead-end, its heart being ripped out before it could even enter mass production.

"Those foreign devils are going too far!"

Niu Dazhuang roared, swinging the pipe wrench in his hand.

"Bang!"

He hammered it onto the corner of the conference table, sending wood splinters flying.

"We don't need to buy their crappy stuff! Can't we just find a domestic factory to build it?"

The rough man's bull-like eyes widened, his eye sockets red as if they were bleeding.

"Are we really going to let a little thing like this stop us?"

"We can't build it, Dazhuang."

Old Zhou, who had been silent all this time, seemed to age ten years in an instant.

He leaned against the wall, shook his head with a bitter smile, his back suddenly hunching over.

The former technical director of a major factory had eyes filled with an inescapable despair.

"We can find domestic panel factories to manufacture the screens because the barrier to entry is low; we can just make do by buying a few second-hand lines."

Old Zhou bit his cracked lips, his voice as raspy as if he had swallowed sand.

"But that's a processor chip; it's micro-engraving at the nanometer level."

He looked at Lu Jingming, his eyes revealing a profound sense of helplessness.

"Lithography machines, photoresist, underlying ARM architecture licensing—these three lifelines are all held in the hands of Westerners."

Old Zhou let out a miserable laugh, pointing at the ceiling.

"They sell a single EUV lithography machine for a hundred million dollars, and they still enforce a technology embargo against us."

"Our domestic semiconductor technology is at least twenty years behind the Americans. Are we supposed to hammer out a chip with a sledgehammer?"

On the internet, this supply-cut storm had already whipped up a massive tidal wave.

The Jifeng Forum servers had completely crashed three times.

The rage of domestic netizens swept across all social platforms like a volcanic eruption.

"The Americans are too shameless! When they can't beat the product, they play this low-handed blockade game!"

"Xinghai finally managed to create a real Full-screen Display, and now it's all ruined! These bandits!"

"Heaven is jealous of talent; Boss Lu has really hit a wall this time. Without chips, the phone is just a piece of black glass."

Netizens were filled with grief and indignation, cursing the foreign companies for their shamelessness.

On the other side, in the secret group chats of domestic peers, it was a scene of rowdy revelry.

In the center of Donghai City, at the Bolang Mobile headquarters, Fatty Xu held his freshly brewed goji berry tea, rocking happily in his boss chair.

He sent three laughing emojis in the group chat in a row.

"Serves him right! Let him be arrogant, Lu Jingming! Daring to point at Paul's nose and curse!"

Fatty Xu typed on his keyboard, his face full of schadenfreude.

"Now he's cursed his own ancestral grave until it's smoking!"

Several bosses of second-tier manufacturers hurried to flatter him.

"Still, Boss Xu is steady. Xinghai is dead for sure this time; even Hua Tuo couldn't save them."

"If you can't even buy a CPU to build a phone, I reckon those million empty shells of his can only be dumped in the sea!"

In their eyes, the mountain that was Xinghai Technology pressing down on their heads had been smashed to pieces by the Americans' big stick.

With Xinghai gone, the big cake in the domestic market could return to their hands to be slowly divided and eaten.

"Go, have the PR department issue a statement."

Fatty Xu waved his hand at his assistant, brimming with pride.

"Just say that our Bolang Mobile is absolutely unaffected by the American sanctions, our supply is sufficient, and we welcome consumers to come and purchase!"

Inside the Xinghai building, the atmosphere was oppressive.

The hallway outside was quiet; even the cleaning lady was walking on tiptoe.

Shen Qingqiu walked in from outside, her heels clicking rapidly.

She clutched a thick stack of order cancellation requests and work stoppage reports in her hand.

Her hair, usually combed meticulously, was slightly disheveled, and her gold-rimmed glasses had slid to the tip of her nose.

"Lu Jingming."

Shen Qingqiu walked up to him and threw the reports heavily onto the table.

She braced her hands on the desk, her eyes, which were always calm, now bloodshot.

"The components at customs have been seized."

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady.

"The workshop on Old Li's side only has the last batch of assembled semi-finished products left. The logistics lines are completely paralyzed."

The female financial genius dug her nails deep into her palms, forcing herself to face this mess.

"Without processor chips, our million-unit production capacity will have to shut down by tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Once we can't deliver the goods, the liquidated damages and panic refunds alone will drain every bit of profit we have in our accounts."

She bit her lower lip, staring fixedly at the man leaning back in his chair.

"What do we do now? Should we pull some strings to contact Paul and give up the Full-screen Display licensing to save ourselves?"

This was the only way out she could think of.

"Stop."

Lu Jingming suddenly raised his hand, cutting her off.

He sat in his chair, not having glanced at those death-warrant reports from start to finish.

The crowd, who had just been as anxious as ants on a hot pan, turned their gazes toward him in unison.

Was the boss about to give in?

Dazhuang's hand holding the pipe wrench trembled slightly, and Old Zhou turned his face away, unable to bear watching Lu Jingming bow his head.

The usually arrogant Boss Lu had finally succumbed to the cruel reality.

But Lu Jingming stood up.

He reached out and brushed off some non-existent dust from his black T-shirt.

The corners of his mouth suddenly curled into a chilling smirk.

There wasn't a shred of despair in that smile; instead, it exuded the excitement of an old hunter seeing his prey enter the trap.

"What's the rush?"

Lu Jingming walked around the conference table, his eyes sweeping over the group of grieving executives.

"The fact that the Americans are willing to go to such lengths to block me shows that we've done a good job and stepped on their tails."

Not only was he not angry, but his tone was also infuriatingly relaxed.

"The sky hasn't fallen yet, so why are you all pulling such long faces? Holding a funeral for Qualcomm?"

After saying this, Lu Jingming shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.

He turned and walked straight toward the private office in the back room.

Shen Qingqiu froze, taking two steps in her heels to follow him.

"Where are you going! Hundreds of thousands of orders are waiting to be shipped; do you want to be a coward and hide away!"

Her voice trembled; she was truly anxious.

Lu Jingming walked to the solid wood door and paused.

He turned his head, his facial contours appearing sharp and scheming under the hallway lights.

He gripped the brass doorknob and pressed it down with a 'click.'

"If others won't sell to us, are we supposed to kneel down and beg?"

Lu Jingming pushed the door open, leaving everyone with a wildly arrogant side profile.

"Everyone just stay outside and be quiet; don't bother me."

Half of his body disappeared into the dim room, and he dropped the final sentence.

"I'm going to find a new master for our Xinghai Full-screen Display."