290: Chapter 290 Three-Day Talks

After the banquet concluded.

Vladimir Sergeyevich stood up. "Walk with me."

The two of them stepped out of St. George's Hall, crossed the corridor, and arrived beneath the walls of the Kremlin.

Moonlight spilled over the ancient stone bricks. In the distance, the shimmering ripples of the Moskva River were faintly visible. Across the river, the golden dome of the Cathedral of Christ the Saviour gleamed in the night.

The two walked slowly along the city wall.

Vladimir Sergeyevich pointed toward a portrait—it was Tsar Alexander I, hanging on the corridor wall.

"He wanted to develop Siberia back then too. He sent countless expeditions, only to have them bring back a few maps and some mammoth tusks. Why?"

Su Chen did not answer.

"Because there was no technology," Vladimir Sergeyevich said. "Under Siberia's permafrost lies 40% of the world's rare earths, 30% of its natural gas, and 20% of its oil. But the extraction costs are too high, and transportation is too difficult. In Alexander's era, they could only use horse-drawn sleds; a round trip took three years."

They continued walking forward.

"And now?" Su Chen asked.

"Now there is the Arctic Sea Route," Vladimir Sergeyevich said. "Global warming is melting the ice. From Shanghai Municipality to Hamburg, taking the Arctic route is nearly 4,000 nautical miles shorter than going through the Suez Canal. The savings in fuel, time, and insurance—that's all money."

"But the Arctic Sea Route needs icebreakers, navigation, communication, and supply stations along the way. Russia has all of those. But what we need is better technology and lower costs."

Su Chen understood. "Does Mr. President want Xinghuo to operate the Arctic Sea Route?"

Putin stopped in his tracks and turned to look at him.

"When speaking with a smart man, there's no need to beat around the bush."

He continued walking:

"Control over the Arctic Sea Route must be shared between both parties. This is non-negotiable. However, the operating rights can be given to Xinghuo. You have the world's best shipping management software, the most advanced maritime technology, and a team that understands the market best."

Su Chen fell silent for a few seconds.

"That is negotiable."

Vladimir Sergeyevich nodded. "During tomorrow's negotiations, my team will show the utmost sincerity. I accept your 'three red lines.' But on this point regarding the Arctic Sea Route, we must hold it together."

He extended his hand.

Su Chen shook it.

Under the moonlight, the two men's hands gripped firmly.

The two sides exchanged words for thirty minutes, after which Su Chen's motorcade drove out of the Kremlin.

Lin Wan asked in a low voice, "How did the talk go?"

Su Chen looked out the window. "Vladimir Sergeyevich is more pragmatic than I expected. He knows Russia's hole cards, and he knows Xinghuo's bottom line."

"And those three red lines..."

"He accepted them. But he added one condition: the Arctic Sea Route is to be jointly managed."

Lin Wan mused, "That means Xinghuo's reach will extend into the Arctic Ocean."

Su Chen said nothing.

Outside the window, Moscow's night was deep and vast.

In the distance, the spires of the Kremlin stood silhouetted against the moonlight.

This thousand-year-old capital had made a decision tonight.

And that decision would change the Arctic, change Siberia, and change the power landscape of the entire Eurasian continent.

The next morning at 9:00 AM, in the Kremlin negotiation hall, located on the second floor of the Senate Palace.

The room wasn't large, but the ceiling was extremely high, and the windows faced the Moskva River. On the wall hung the national emblem of the Russian Federation—the double-headed eagle, one head facing west, one head facing east.

On both sides of the long table, the teams from both parties took their places.

The Russian lead: Deputy Prime Minister Borisov, sixty-two years old, sat in the center of the long table. Behind him were the Minister of Energy, Minister of Industry, Minister of Communications, Secretary of Defense, Minister for the Development of the Far East, and Minister of Economic Development—twenty-three people in total.

The Xinghuo lead: Su Chen, twenty-eight years old, sat on the opposite side of the table. Behind him were the eight CEOs and Lin Wan—nine people in total.

Though outnumbered, they were not lacking in presence.

Borisov opened with a booming voice, "Mr. Su, we have prepared forty-seven projects across eight major fields. We hope to finish discussing all of them within three days."

Su Chen nodded. "Then let us begin."

Session One: Materials

Russian Lead Negotiator: Minister of Industry Manturov

Xinghuo Lead Negotiator: Spark Materials CEO Wu Yi

Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of the negotiation hall, the Moskva River shimmered like crushed silver in the morning light.

The long table was covered with a deep green velvet cloth, with mountains of documents piled on both sides. The twenty-three Russians sat packed together, their epaulettes and medals glinting under the lights. There were only nine people on the Xinghuo side, but their aura was not inferior in the slightest.

Manturov was the first to speak. He was in his early fifties, with broad shoulders and a bluish stubble on his chin—a typical descendant of Soviet industrial cadres.

"Russia imports three million tons of high-performance engineering plastics and five hundred thousand tons of metal-matrix composites annually," his voice boomed, as if shouting in a factory workshop. "We hope Xinghuo will establish a production base in Krasnoyarsk to achieve import substitution."

Wu Yi opened the folder in front of him. He was forty-five years old, wearing rimless glasses, with long fingers that flipped through pages with the precision of a surgeon.

"Krasnoyarsk—the heart of Siberia," he looked up, his gaze calm. "It has the Trans-Siberian Railway, the Yenisei River port, and the Krasnoyarsk Hydroelectric Power Station. There is sufficient power and convenient transportation. It can be built."

Manturov's eyes narrowed slightly.

Wu Yi continued, "An annual production of one million tons of engineering plastics and five hundred thousand tons of metal-matrix composites. A total investment of eight billion dollars. Completion in five years."

Manturov leaned forward, his elbows pressing onto the table:

"Conditions?"

Wu Yi closed the folder:

"Raw materials are to be supplied by the Russian side. Rare earths, titanium, magnesium, and aluminum are to be priced at 70% of the international market rate."

Manturov's brow furrowed, and he tapped his finger on the table:

"70% is too low. We sell these materials to Europe and China as well. 70% is practically giving them away for free."

Wu Yi remained unfazed. He picked up the water glass in front of him, took a sip, and then set it down.

"In exchange—" he paused, looking directly at Manturov, "Xinghuo will grant the Russian side authorization for the civilian use of third-generation advanced high-strength steel. This covers applications for automobiles, construction, and oil and gas pipelines."

Manturov's finger stopped moving.

Oil and gas pipelines.

Those words were like pressing a pause button.

Russia's oil and gas pipelines have a total length exceeding 250,000 kilometers, enough to circle the Earth six times. Maintenance and replacement require over a million tons of specialty steel every year. Previously, this steel was imported from Germany, Japan, and Ukraine.

Following the sanctions, Germany stopped selling, Japan raised prices, and the factories in Ukraine no longer supplied them.

Manturov slowly turned his head to look at Deputy Prime Minister Borisov, who was sitting at one end of the long table.

Borisov was in his early sixties, with graying hair and a cold, stern face. He was an old subordinate of Vladimir Sergeyevich, having followed the president since the Saint Petersburg era. At this moment, he showed no expression, only nodding slightly.

The movement was small, but everyone saw it.

Manturov turned back and took a deep breath. "The authorization for third-generation steel—does it include technical data?"

Wu Yi shook his head.

"It does not include formulas or process parameters. It only includes usage specifications, welding techniques, and quality inspection standards. It essentially means you can buy our steel and process it yourselves without waiting for our certification for every batch."

Manturov was silent for three seconds.

Then he extended his hand. "Deal."

The two hands gripped each other tightly.

Flashbulbs went off. The Russian recorder pressed a heavy stamp onto the document.

Wu Yi let go and sat back down.

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

Ninety minutes.

The first session of negotiations had taken ninety minutes.

Outside the window, the Moskva River continued to flow silently.