Chapter 82: From Initial Confidence to Later Deference, Lei Jun's Xiaomi Was Born Ahead of Schedule

The concrete floor steamed with the acrid, burnt smell of melting shoe soles.

Fatty Xu clutched those few thin sheets of A4 paper.

Beads of sweat rolled down his thick double chin, splashing onto the bold text that read "Must pre-install Xinghai OS."

A damp, grey smudge smeared the surface of the paper.

"Th-this is a damn contract of indentured servitude..."

Old Wang stood nearby, his lips trembling and his teeth chattering uncontrollably.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead haphazardly with his sleeve.

The fabric had long since turned sour, and a pungent, acidic smell assaulted his nose.

"Even the charging port has to follow their Xinghai mold!"

Old Wang stomped his feet in anxiety, kicking up a cloud of dust with his leather shoes.

"From now on, we won't even be able to make money selling data cables!"

He gripped the ballpoint pen, his hand shaking as if he had Parkinson's.

The tip of the pen hovered over the signature line, but he didn't dare press down for the longest time.

Fatty Xu gritted his back teeth, the fat on his cheeks trembling twice.

"Sign!"

He snatched the pen from Old Wang's hand.

"If we don't sign, those overheating Qualcomm phones in the warehouse will bury us all alive tomorrow."

He panted heavily, his chest heaving.

"Let's save our lives first! Being a grandson is better than being a dead man!"

The pen tip scratched against the paper with a harsh, tearing sound, pressing hard enough to rip through the back of the page.

Chu Xuan leaned against the inside of the iron gate, chewing on a wooden toothpick.

"Those who have finished signing, line up on the left. Don't crowd."

He rolled his eyes and shook his sore right leg.

His leather shoes made a creaking sound against the floor.

"Um... brother!"

A tall, thin figure suddenly squeezed out from the crowd.

The man was wearing a grey plaid short-sleeved shirt, neatly tucked into his dress pants.

The belt buckle was slightly faded, with verdigris worn along the edges.

He didn't hold the agreement; instead, he grabbed Chu Xuan's arm.

His palm was covered in hot, sticky sweat.

Chu Xuan tried to pull his arm back in disgust, but couldn't budge.

"Hey, hey, what are you doing? Trying to stage a scam?"

"No, no, that's not it. I didn't take an agreement."

The young man pushed up his black-rimmed glasses, two flames burning in his eyes.

"My name is Lei... Lei Jun. I want to see Mr. Lu!"

He swallowed dryly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"This agreement is brilliant! An ecosystem closed loop! I want to talk to him in person about a big deal!"

Chu Xuan spat out the toothpick and looked him up and down.

"Talk business? You don't even have a factory, what the hell are you going to talk about?"

"I have a business plan! I've already written it!"

Lei Jun reached anxiously for the leather bag tucked under his arm.

The zipper got stuck, and when he gave it a hard tug, it ripped halfway open with a "rip" sound.

Inside the top-floor office.

The air conditioning was blasting, blowing the corners of the folders on the desk and making the papers rustle.

Lu Jingming was biting on an unlit cigarette.

He stared at the surveillance screen on the wall.

On the screen, the man in the plaid shirt was struggling with the broken leather bag across the iron gate with Chu Xuan.

A plastic lighter spun around his knuckles.

It fell onto the solid wood desk with a crisp "clack."

Lu Jingming's mouth twisted into a strange smile.

Rebus?

Why isn't this guy in Yanjing working on his antivirus software, instead of coming to Donghai City to stir up trouble?

Looking at how frantic he is, he even ripped his bag.

He must have been driven crazy by Xinghai's recent series of dimensionality-reduction attacks.

Forcing himself to jump into phone manufacturing years ahead of schedule?

Lu Jingming reached for the internal intercom on his desk and pressed the talk button.

"Chu Xuan, let the guy in the plaid shirt in."

He tugged at the collar of his black T-shirt; his throat felt a bit dry.

"Make him a cup of instant coffee. Use less water and add an extra packet of powder to wake him up."

Ten minutes later.

Lei Jun sat on the leather sofa opposite Lu Jingming.

The leather sofa was too soft, and he sank halfway into it, making it uncomfortable to sit.

He shifted his buttocks awkwardly, creating ugly wrinkles in his dress pants at the thighs.

He clutched the black leather bag with the broken zipper tightly in both hands.

The cold air in the office swept over his sweat-soaked back, causing goosebumps to rise.

He shuddered and sniffled.

"M-Mr. Lu..."

Lei Jun rubbed his cold palms together, the friction making a rustling sound.

"May I have some water? I've been running around to foundries all morning, and my throat is bone dry."

Chu Xuan slammed the paper cup of coffee onto the coffee table, splashing two drops of black liquid.

"Drink up. I made it extra concentrated just for you."

Lei Jun picked up the paper cup and, ignoring the heat, took a huge gulp.

"Hiss—"

He stuck out his tongue from the heat, his face scrunching up from the bitterness.

"Laymen are good; laymen are bold."

Lu Jingming picked up the cold tea beside him and took a sip; the tea tasted astringent.

"Hit a wall at the foundries, didn't you? No one pays attention to you without orders."

He lifted his eyelids slightly and glanced at the broken leather bag.

"Tell me, what big deal do you want to discuss with me?"

Lei Jun put down the paper cup and rubbed his scalded fingers against his pant leg.

He pulled a crumpled business plan from his bag.

The corners were all curled.

He cleared his throat, and his expression changed instantly, as if he were a different person.

The previous awkwardness had completely vanished.

"Mr. Lu, the current mobile phone market is sick!"

He spoke faster, with a heavy hometown accent, stumbling slightly.

"Those big manufacturers are skinning everyone layer by layer! Channel distributors, agents, adding markups at every level!"

"A phone that costs five hundred to make is sold to regular people for two thousand!"

He waved his hand, his elbow nearly knocking over the paper cup he had just set down.

He didn't care and leaned forward.

"Mr. Lu, your move of using online direct sales is brilliant!"

Lei Jun's eyes shone, and spit sprayed into the air.

"I want to make phones too! Using a pure internet model!"

"Cut out all offline stores! Don't let middlemen earn a single cent in price difference!"

Lu Jingming leaned back in his chair.

He tapped his index finger against the solid wood armrest, making a dull "tap, tap" sound.

"Continue."

"Xinghai's positioning is high-end, the facade of the industry."

Lei Jun licked his dry lips and swallowed.

"But the big cake of the domestic low-end market is still being messed up by those knockoff phones in Huaqiangbei, it's a total mess."

Most of his body was hovering off the seat; he was almost pressed against the coffee table.

"Mr. Lu, give me the low-end launch rights for the Xialong Chip!"

"I'll only keep a five-percent profit margin! I'll sell the hardware like cabbage!"

He slapped the business plan in his hands, the pages making a slapping sound.

"Fight to the death on price-performance ratio! Help the Xinghai ecosystem occupy the pool of bottom-tier users!"

As soon as this theory came out.

Shen Qingqiu, who had just reached the door, stopped.

The sound of her high heels clicking on the floor came to an abrupt halt.

She pushed up her gold-rimmed glasses, looking at this rustic man in astonishment.

Selling hardware like cabbage? Only keeping a five-percent profit margin?

What kind of business model is this?

He's basically a lunatic, playing with money like throwing it into the water.

Lei Jun became more and more excited as he spoke.

He grabbed the business plan, his cheeks flushed red, even the base of his neck turned red.

"Now is the dawn of the mobile internet!"

He stood up abruptly, his belt buckle striking the edge of the coffee table with a crisp sound.

The business plan in his hand was rolled into a paper tube and slammed onto the desk.

"Bang!"

A dull thud made the water in the teacup ripple.

"Mr. Lu!"

He stared straight at Lu Jingming, his voice cracking with a hint of hysterical fanaticism.

"As long as we follow this wind!"

"As long as you stand at the center of the trend, even a pig can fly!"

The office was silent for a few seconds.

Only the faint whistling sound from the air conditioning vent scraped against their eardrums.

Chu Xuan rolled his eyes and muttered softly.

"Flying pig, my foot. You'll just fall and kill yourself."

Lu Jingming stared at the middle-aged man with glowing green eyes in front of him.

Hearing this familiar quote years ahead of schedule was truly surreal.

He reached out and picked up the plastic lighter on the table.

His thumb flicked the flint wheel with a "click."

No spark.

Lu Jingming's mouth twisted into a cold smile tinged with a bit of dark humor.

He tossed the lighter back onto the table, making a crisp sound.

He stood up.

He pressed both hands against the mahogany desk and slowly leaned forward.

His shadow loomed over Lei Jun's plaid shirt, and a sense of oppression washed over him.

"Brother Lei."

Lu Jingming stared at him and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Everyone wants to jump on the bandwagon of a trend."

He tapped his fingers on the desk in a chaotic rhythm.

"But what if that wind..."

He paused, looking at Lei Jun's stunned face.

"...is something I blew into existence with my own electric fan?"

Lu Jingming raised one eyebrow, a glint of calculation flashing in his eyes.

"What do you plan to use to buy your ticket to get on this ride, you pig?"