Chapter 93: The ban was issued, and Xinghai's overseas stores were forced to close.

Shen Qingqiu stood frozen in place.

Her gold-rimmed glasses slid down her nose by half an inch, but she didn't even bother to push them back up.

"Digging a grave?"

She took a half-step forward in her high heels, her eyes filled with confusion.

"Lu Jingming, the Americans' Entity List has been slapped right in our faces."

She bit her lower lip.

"Hundreds of our overseas stores are about to close down. Why on earth are you talking about digging a grave at a time like this?"

Lu Jingming didn't turn around.

He rubbed his chin, which was stained with a bit of ash, with the back of his hand.

"Digging it for those foreign masters who think they're invincible."

He pulled out his executive chair and sat down.

He crossed his legs and rested them on the edge of the coffee table, his posture so casual it made one's teeth itch.

At this moment in Los Angeles, it was the middle of the night.

Outside the Xinghai Technology flagship store in Beverly Hills, police lights were flashing.

The red and blue beams of light pierced through the night.

They made the palm trees on the street look mottled, casting a grim, murderous air.

Several American police officers in black bulletproof vests rushed up the steps, gripping their batons.

"Out! All of you! Get out!"

The leading white police sergeant roared at the top of his lungs, his spit spraying onto the glass door.

The foreigners who were queuing up to try the xinghai pad inside were all stunned.

A young Black man wearing a baseball cap had just picked up a smartband from the display stand.

The sergeant's baton slammed directly onto the back of his hand.

With a sharp "crack," the smartband fell to the floor and rolled under the counter.

"Fuck! What right do you have to hit people!"

The young man clutched his swollen hand and cursed.

The sergeant ignored him completely.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a seal stamped with the red official seal of the American Department of Commerce.

With a "swish," he slapped it crosswise onto the deep blue glass door of the Xinghai store.

The store manager was a Chinese international student, sweating profusely from anxiety.

He hurried over, holding a stack of business licenses.

"Officer, our paperwork is complete; this is a legal business..."

Before he could finish, the sergeant shoved him aside, his leather shoe stepping directly onto the documents the manager had dropped.

A dark, muddy footprint was imprinted on the white paper.

"I don't care if you're legal or not."

The sergeant pulled out the walkie-talkie from his belt.

"The Entity List is out. This place is under federal jurisdiction now!"

He pointed at the dozens of display units in the store.

"Empty out all the stock! Load it into the trucks! Don't leave a single piece behind!"

Several police officers rushed behind the counter, acting violently.

The glass display cases were smashed by batons, spiderweb cracks spreading across them.

xinghai pads were scattered all over the floor.

The deep blue glass back panels were crushed into pieces by heavy leather shoes, shards of glass flying everywhere.

At the same time, at the Port of San Francisco, the sea breeze, carrying a briny scent, swept across the docks.

An ocean-going freighter fully loaded with Xinghai equipment had just docked.

Before the mooring lines were even secured, several customs patrol cars skidded across the pier, leaving black tire marks on the ground.

Customs officers in uniform climbed onto the deck, immediately unplugged the freighter's control cables, and cornered the captain in the cockpit.

"This ship is suspected of endangering national information security. It's seized!"

The customs official, holding a cigarette in his mouth, sneered and signed the seizure order.

He slapped the order onto the captain's chest.

A full 200,000 units of the xinghai gen 2 were locked away in an American bonded warehouse without even causing a ripple.

Twitter had already exploded.

Those anti-China influencers, like flies smelling blood, were posting like mad.

"The Chinese assembly plant is finally done for!"

"Thanks to the Department of Commerce! Get these thieves who steal our privacy out!"

"You still want to occupy our market? Keep dreaming, you yellow monkeys!"

The comment section was a cesspool, everyone watching Xinghai make a fool of itself.

In the domestic industry group chats, undercurrents were surging.

Fatty Xu of Bolang Mobile lounged in a leather sofa, watching the foreign media reports on his computer.

He wiped the sweat from his chubby neck with a handkerchief.

Pleased wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes as he picked up his thermos and took a sip of goji berry water.

"Serves you right. Let's see you be arrogant now, Lu Jingming."

Fatty Xu pursed his thick lips and huffed twice.

"Trying to snatch food on American turf—he really thought their rice bowl was made of clay."

Mr. Lei sat nearby, clutching a worn leather bag, his brows knitted together.

"Mr. Xu, if Xinghai collapses, won't our ecological alliance fall apart too?"

Fatty Xu shot him a sideways glance.

"Let it fall apart. Once he's down, we can just split up the market share he leaves behind in the country."

He set the thermos on the table with a dull thud.

"Without Xinghai, we'll be the ones calling the shots in the domestic market."

The sun over Donghai City had already begun to set.

Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, beating down on the carpet and making the room feel stifling.

Chu Xuan, like a rabbit chased by a dog, burst into the CEO's office.

The solid wood door slammed against the wall with a loud "bang."

"Lu, Mr. Lu!"

He couldn't even catch his breath, his center-parted hair completely messed up and plastered against his sweaty forehead.

A button on his floral shirt had popped off, revealing the white undershirt beneath.

"They're all gone! Wiped out in one fell swoop!"

Chu Xuan lunged toward the desk, slamming his tablet onto the surface.

"Our seventeen stores in North America and Europe have been sealed off by local police!"

Shen Qingqiu's face turned pale.

She stepped forward and grabbed the tablet.

On the screen, a video of the Los Angeles store being smashed was playing.

The footage was shaky.

The harsh sound of the American police smashing the glass counters could be heard clearly.

"They won't even let us return the stock!"

Chu Xuan said, his voice choking with tears as he paced around the desk in a panic.

"The ship at the Port of San Francisco has also been seized. Customs claimed it was hazardous material and slapped a confiscation label on it."

He slapped his thigh, his voice cracking.

"Mr. Lu, all our assets sent overseas—it's all gone down the drain!"

Shen Qingqiu bit her lower lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh.

She pushed the tablet toward Lu Jingming.

"Funds frozen, goods seized. Our overseas channels have been physically cut off."

Her voice was hoarse, betraying a hint of panic.

"The loss of this batch of goods alone could drain half a year's worth of our domestic profits."

Chu Xuan squatted on the floor, pulling at his hair.

"Those foreigners online are all celebrating. There are people domestically stirring up trouble, saying we've caused a huge disaster."

He looked up, his face full of misery.

"I just used a burner account on Twitter to post a couple of protests. Before I could even finish typing, the account was gone!"

Chu Xuan took a deep, ragged breath.

"Mr. Lu, this game is completely dead. How are we supposed to go head-to-head with their state apparatus?"

The office was deathly quiet.

Only the sound of Chu Xuan's heavy breathing could be heard, along with the faint whistling of air from the AC vent.

Lu Jingming leaned back in his chair.

He watched the Chinese store manager on the screen, who was being stepped on by the American police.

The temperature in his eyes dropped bit by bit.

A plastic lighter spun twice over his knuckles.

He didn't make a sound.

He tossed the lighter next to the fruit platter and stood up.

Lu Jingming straightened the collar of his black T-shirt and pulled down his rolled-up sleeves.

He walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the traffic below.

He didn't get angry. He didn't throw any cups.

He tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealing half of his stark white canine tooth.

"A dead end?"

Lu Jingming turned his head and looked at Chu Xuan, who was squatting on the floor.

His eyes held a casual, detached air, as if he were watching a grand play.

"They've slapped us right in the face; what a wonderful stage they've set for us."

He strolled over to the coffee table and picked up his cup to take a sip of cold tea.

The tea moistened his dry throat.

"Chu Xuan, get up."

Lu Jingming set the teacup down, the bottom clinking against the glass.

Chu Xuan was stunned.

He scrambled to his feet, his knees feeling a bit weak.

"Start a livestream? Mr. Lu, why are we opening a livestream right now? To go on and admit defeat?"

Shen Qingqiu also frowned and took a step forward.

"If you show your face now, you'll be drowned in the netizens' spit. The risk is too high."

Lu Jingming walked to the door and gripped the brass doorknob.

He turned his head.

The light from the hallway hit his profile, outlining his sharp features.

"Since the Americans have built us such a big stage."

Lu Jingming pressed down on the doorknob, making a sharp clicking sound.

He stared at Chu Xuan, a cold, calculating glint flashing in his eyes.

"Go, connect all the livestream feeds from every major domestic media outlet for me."

"If I don't perform a scene in this grand play of playing the victim, I'd be missing out on a huge opportunity."