Chapter 201 Who said we came here to steal their skills? We came here to "examine" their work!

A Germanic staff member wearing blue overalls and a face full of rough features strode over.

He waved his arms as if shooing away flies.

His thick fingers almost poked Tu Zhi's camera lens.

"No photos!"

The Germanic man roared, his saliva flying everywhere.

"Commercial spies are not welcome here!"

The surrounding tourists stopped in their tracks, casting strange looks toward them.

Those eyes were filled with scrutiny and mockery.

There was also that long-accustomed prejudice—

Look, those thieves from the East.

Lu Ning's face instantly turned bright red.

That familiar sense of humiliation made him wish he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into.

He hurriedly stepped in front of Tu Zhi and whispered the translation of the man's words to the group.

Then, he explained to the man in German:

"I'm sorry, sir."

"We just... we just thought this structure was very exquisite..."

"I'm not listening to explanations!"

The Germanic man was relentless, looking at the group with contempt.

"What do you know about 'exquisite'?"

"You are only capable of clumsy imitations!"

"Leave immediately, or I'll call security!"

Lu Ning was sweating profusely with anxiety, just about to pull Zhou Jianjun and the others to retreat.

A hand lightly patted his shoulder.

Tu Zhi wasn't panicked as Lu Ning had expected.

He hadn't even put the lens cap back on his camera.

That simple, honest smile still hung on his face.

From his inner suit pocket, he unhurriedly pulled out a business card holder.

He took out a business card.

Along with a 'Technical Inspection Letter of Introduction from the Ministry of State Machine-Building Industry' printed with a bright red national emblem in both Chinese and German.

He gently placed them into the palm of the waving Germanic man's hand.

"Student Lu," Tu Zhi's voice was very steady, "don't panic."

"Tell him we aren't spies."

"We are technical officials representing the Chinese government to conduct an official procurement assessment."

Tu Zhi pointed to the large red seal on the letter of introduction.

That was the protective charm Lin Xi had specifically asked the Ministry to issue before they left.

"Translate this exactly: We are currently looking for a gearbox supplier for a domestic heavy truck project."

"We originally thought ZF was a good choice."

"But now it seems your company's service attitude makes us doubt your sincerity for cooperation."

Tu Zhi paused and added a final blow:

"If he doesn't cooperate."

"We will note in the inspection report: This enterprise has voluntarily waived its eligibility to enter the Chinese market."

Lu Ning was stunned.

Will... will this work?

But seeing Tu Zhi's certain gaze.

But seeing Tu Zhi's certain gaze, he could only brace himself and translate those words.

The Germanic man, who had looked so fierce just a moment ago.

Upon hearing keywords like "official procurement," "Chinese market," and "waive eligibility."

And seeing the document stamped with the bright red national emblem, his expression instantly froze.

In the eyes of Germanic people in this era.

An official endorsement from the East.

Often meant national-level orders worth hundreds of millions, as well as the most reliable credit.

That was a potential major client!

The Germanic man's face changed at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Arrogance vanished.

In its place was a professional, even slightly fawning, respect.

He handed the letter of introduction back to Tu Zhi with both hands.

Leaning forward slightly, he gave a bow:

"Honorable gentlemen, I am very sorry; it was my misunderstanding."

"Please forgive my rudeness."

He made a "please" gesture, his face covered in smiles:

"Please, feel free to visit."

"If you need anything, I can explain the gear ratio parameters of this gearbox in detail for you."

Tu Zhi put away the letter of introduction and winked at the dumbfounded Lu Ning.

"See that?"

Tu Zhi whispered,

"Manager Lin taught me that when dealing with foreigners, sometimes you don't need to argue."

"Showing the national flag is more effective than anything else."

Lu Ning nodded blankly, feeling a crack appear in his worldview.

...

Leaving the ZF booth, the group's aura had clearly changed.

That sense of cautious probing had vanished.

It was replaced by the composure of someone thinking, 'I'm the buyer, who's afraid of who?'

They came to a CNC system booth from the Lighthouse Country.

It was crowded here, under a huge "Cincinnati" logo.

Several blonde-haired, blue-eyed staff members were handing coffee to white businessmen and distributing exquisite full-color brochures.

Zhou Jianjun stopped in his tracks.

He was most interested in CNC systems.

However, as their group approached the console.

The staff members, who had been chatting and laughing, immediately retracted their smiles.

A white technician with a handlebar mustache.

Quietly swept a stack of brochures from the counter into a drawer.

He put on a cold, business-like face.

He didn't even look Zhou Jianjun in the eye.

He just glanced with his peripheral vision and said coldly:

"Sorry, we're out of brochures."

"The demonstration hasn't started yet. Please do not cross the red line over there."

This was blatant differential treatment.

A Frenchman next to them had just received a brochure and was flipping through it noisily.

Lu Ning grit his teeth; this kind of soft knife was even more uncomfortable than the Germanic man's roar earlier.

"Engineer Zhou..."

Lu Ning whispered in persuasion,

"They've always felt that Chinese people don't understand high technology."

"They think giving us materials is a waste."

"Let's bear with it. When that group of people leaves, I'll try again..."

Zhou Jianjun, however, shook his head.

He wasn't angry; he didn't even spare a glance at the arrogant technician.

He walked straight to the CNC machine tool that was idling for display, ignoring the so-called "red line."

In the instant before the technician was about to snap.

Zhou Jianjun reached out and lightly tapped his knuckles twice on the X-axis servo motor casing of the machine tool.

Tap, tap.

The sound was crisp.

"Lu Ning, translate."

Zhou Jianjun's voice was icy.

"Ask him, was the X-axis repetitive positioning accuracy of this machine tool measured under no-load or under load?"

"Is the resolution of the linear scale 5 microns or 1 micron?"

"Also."

Zhou Jianjun pointed to the jumping coordinate values on the screen.

"Can your servo system's dead-zone compensation parameters handle this kind of non-linear friction?"

"When it crossed the quadrant just now, I saw a 0.02-second pause on the Y-axis."

Lu Ning was stunned; these terms were too professional.

It took him a lot of effort to convert them into the foreign language in his head.

When that string of extremely tricky questions, which pointed directly at the core weaknesses of the equipment, was thrown out.

The white technician, who had been looking down his nose at them, froze entirely.

An expert!

This was definitely an expert!

Only someone who had actually worked on the R&D of CNC systems.

Could spot a problem like a "quadrant crossing pause" at a glance, which would only be exposed under extremely high precision.

The technician looked Zhou Jianjun up and down.

The Chinese man wearing an ordinary suit and glasses.

In his eyes now.

He was no longer a poor tourist looking for free materials, but an unfathomable technical heavyweight.

Arrogance instantly collapsed, replaced by vigilance and respect—

In the industrial world, technology is the only universal currency.