Chapter 52 Japan dares to imitate? Then let them all crumble!

"When 'Red Star · Gentle Breeze' was at the Canton Fair, Section Chief Wang was already asked to apply for international patents." (See Chapter 32)

"The patents were approved long ago."

Lin Xi's voice was as steady as if he were discussing today's weather.

"But a cross-border lawsuit takes at least half a year!" Harrison was almost moved to tears with anxiety.

"By the time the lawsuit is won, summer will be over!"

"The opportunity will have long passed!"

"Then let them sell."

The other end of the phone went silent instantly, leaving only Harrison's heavy breathing, as if he had heard some unbelievable joke.

"Lin... are you crazy?"

"I'm not crazy." Lin Xi lightly tapped his fingers on the desk, making a series of steady sounds.

"Robert, do you really think that five-blade fan is something anyone can just manufacture?"

"What do you mean?"

Lin Xi directed a cold smile at the air.

"The NACA4412 airfoil is indeed a good thing."

"But when I was designing the mold, I left a 'stress concentration point' at the base of the blades." (See Chapter 31)

Lin Xi's voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chill that made one's scalp tingle.

"That special dual-curvature structure—if you don't use my exclusive formula of high-toughness plastic and combine it with 110MPA high-pressure injection molding for instantaneous shaping to eliminate internal stress..."

"Ordinary ABS plastic simply won't hold up."

"Those idiots at Triangle Electric only copied the appearance but don't understand materials science."

"Calculating based on a rotational speed of 1200 RPM, after about 300 hours of operation—which is roughly a month of use for an average household..."

Lin Xi paused, then casually delivered the final half of the verdict:

"Their fan blades will snap cleanly from the base like glass."

Dead silence followed on the other end of the line.

Harrison felt a chill down his spine, a cold air rushing from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

He had originally thought this was just a business game.

He hadn't expected that this seemingly gentle young man from the East had already dug a grave for all potential copycats right on the product design blueprints.

What was this?

This wasn't doing business; this was laying a curse!

"In a month, the first batch of 'Triangle' fans will collectively self-destruct in the living rooms of Lighthouse Country families."

Lin Xi twirled the soda bottle in his hand.

"When that time comes, Walmart will be faced with an overwhelming wave of returns and claims."

"While Sears Department Store holds the only authentic product..."

"We will be the saviors!"

Harrison's voice trembled as he finished the sentence, a state of wild joy following extreme fear.

"My God, Lin..."

"You are simply a devil!"

"A lovely devil!"

"This is called 'Oriental Magic'." Lin Xi hung up the phone.

In the livestream room, the bullet chat turned into a uniform wall of [Holy Crap].

[I'm kneeling! This guy is playing five moves ahead!]

[Physical anti-counterfeiting? This is what you call physical anti-counterfeiting!]

[The Japanese are going to lose everything down to their underwear this time!]

[The Streamer's move is too sinister... but I love it!]

Before Lin Xi could even enjoy this moment of satisfaction, the screeching of a Jeep's brakes sounded outside the door.

Xiao Wu, the guard from the General Command Headquarters, rushed in drenched in sweat, his face looking worse than the sandstorm outside.

"Engineer Lin! Quick! Elder Qian has summoned you urgently!"

Xiao Wu lowered his voice, his tone anxious.

"The atmosphere is wrong. Vice President Zhang slammed the table. I heard the First Ministry of Machine Building Industry sent a letter complaining about us!"

Lin Xi narrowed his eyes, stood up, and straightened his collar: "Let's go."

...

The General Command Headquarters conference room was filled with smoke.

The atmosphere was so oppressive it was hard to breathe.

Elder Qian sat in the main seat, expressionlessly flipping through documents.

Vice Commander Zhang Zhengguo held a cigarette, his brow furrowed deeply.

Wang Bin, the Director of the Power Room, looked worried, glancing at the door from time to time.

Lin Xi pushed the door open, stood at attention, and saluted.

"You're here?"

Zhang Zhengguo slammed the document in his hand onto the table with a sharp 'crack'.

"See for yourself!"

"The complaint letter from the First Ministry of Machine Building Industry has reached the top!"

"They say you, Lin Xi, are running an 'independent kingdom'!"

"They say the Red Star Service Cooperative is expanding uncontrollably and disrupting the national fan price system through an OEM model!"

"Resulting in multiple old state-owned factories having backlogged inventory and facing the risk of shutting down production!"

Zhang Zhengguo took a deep breath.

"Kid, have you made too big a mess?"

"We are in aerospace. You've smashed the rice bowls of the machinery sector; how can they not be desperate?"

Wang Bin tried to smooth things over from the side: "Old Zhang, Lin Xi was also doing it to generate income for us..."

"You can't generate income like this!" Zhang Zhengguo interrupted.

"Now the superiors want us to rectify this immediately!"

Dead silence filled the conference room.

This was a heavy accusation.

At this delicate point in the transition from a planned economy to a market economy.

The charge of 'disrupting the market' could be minor or severe.

On a small scale, it was improper management; on a large scale, it was sabotaging economic construction.

Everyone's gaze was fixed on Lin Xi.

Lin Xi didn't panic; his expression didn't even change.

He walked to the table, picked up the complaint letter, glanced at it, and tossed it back.

"Vice President Zhang, this label doesn't fit."

Lin Xi's voice was calm and powerful.

"I haven't smashed their rice bowls; I'm feeding them."

"As for disrupting the market..."

"If letting the common people buy better products at one-fifth the price is called disruption, then I have disrupted it."

"You're still being stubborn!" Zhang Zhengguo's eyes widened.

"I'm not being stubborn; I'm seeking truth from facts."

Lin Xi pulled a thick ledger from his military satchel and placed it gently on the table.

"The First Ministry says I have illegal gains? Then let's settle the accounts."

Lin Xi opened the ledger and tapped his finger on the first row of numbers.

"The Red Star model isn't about snatching rice bowls; it's about collecting taxes."

"What taxes?" Elder Qian looked up, his gaze sharp as a knife through his lenses.

"Technology taxes." Lin Xi straightened his back and looked around the room.

"Red Star doesn't use state production capacity; we only export standards, molds, and patents."

"Whether it's Huashang Factory or Hongfeng Factory, for every fan they produce, no matter who they sell it to, they have to pay me."

"For overseas exports, 300,000 units are already locked in orders, and it's expected to reach 800,000 by the end of summer."

"For each unit, I collect a 10 USD patent fee."

"For the domestic market, the expected sales are 2.5 million units."

"For each unit, I collect a 2 RMB technical service fee."

Lin Xi paused, his voice suddenly rising a notch:

"With this back and forth, those factories that were on the verge of bankruptcy are now alive, the workers have wages, and the state has tax revenue. And as for us..."

"If nothing unexpected happens, after this summer passes."

"The income of the Red Star Service Cooperative will exceed—"