347: Chapter 347 Nvidia's Choice

In Santa Clara on December 20th, the sky was as gloomy as a gray lead plate.

Inside the Nvidia headquarters building, the atmosphere was even more oppressive than outside the window. In the corridors, employees spoke in low voices, their faces filled with anxiety that was hard to hide. A long line formed at the coffee machine in the breakroom, but no one was laughing. Everyone held their phones, the screens displaying the news that broke their hearts.

Jensen Huang sat alone in his office.

The fifty-five-year-old Nvidia founder wore his signature black leather jacket, but at this moment, the jacket no longer symbolized the pride of Silicon Valley; instead, it looked like the tattered armor of a warrior.

Outside the window, traffic on Highway 101 was as busy as ever. The people in those cars would not know what was happening inside this office.

On the screen in front of him was Nvidia's stock price chart.

$280.

$250.

$200.

$180.

$150.

$135.

A desperate downward line, like a death pronouncement on an EKG.

The secretary knocked and entered, her voice very soft: "Mr. Huang, the board meeting starts in half an hour."

Jensen Huang nodded without turning around. After the door closed, he looked out the window and murmured to himself, "It took me twenty-five years to take it from zero to two hundred and eighty. Xingchen took three months to knock it back to one hundred and thirty-five."

Outside, a red Tesla drove by, quickly disappearing into the traffic. In the conference room, twelve directors sat around a massive oval table.

No one spoke. The air was thick with a silence that was oppressive to the extreme. Finally, someone spoke up. It was a white-haired old man who had been on Nvidia's board for fifteen years and was one of Jensen Huang's earliest investors.

"Mr. Huang, Nvidia needs new leadership."

His words were like a stone thrown into stagnant water, sending out ripples.

Jensen Huang looked at the man, his expression unsettlingly calm: "Who?"

The old man opened his mouth but didn't say a name.

Another director chimed in: "We can conduct a global search."

Jensen Huang laughed.

There wasn't a hint of mirth in that smile, only a bone-deep exhaustion: "Search? Who has the ability to lead Nvidia out of this quagmire right now? The stock is at one hundred and thirty-five, and we've been beaten by Xingchen until we can't even fight back. Whoever comes will fail."

The conference room fell silent once again.

Another person spoke, a trace of desperation in their voice: "Then what solution do you have?"

Jensen Huang was silent for three seconds.

Then he stood up, walked to the window, and turned his back to everyone: "Let me go to Shenzhen one more time. One last time."

No one objected.

In Shenzhen on January 5th, the sun was bright and the weather was as warm as spring. The Xingchen Headquarters building at One Shenzhen Bay glistened in the sunlight, its glass curtain wall reflecting the blue sky and white clouds. The palm trees downstairs swayed gently in the breeze, showing no sign that this was the center of a global tech war.

Jensen Huang stepped out of a black Mercedes-Benz. He wore that black leather jacket, but this time, he didn't look like a conqueror, but like a defeated general coming to sue for peace.

He looked up at the building and was silent for three seconds. The last time he came, he still held onto illusions. This time, only despair remained.

In the same conference room, Jensen Huang sat in the same position. Opposite him, Su Chen sat in the same way. But the atmosphere was completely different. Last time, Jensen Huang still wanted to talk about 'cooperation,' wanting to carve out territory and preserve his empire. This time, he had nothing left.

Jensen Huang spoke first, his voice raspy as if he hadn't slept in three days: "Mr. Su, Nvidia is willing to accept any terms."

Su Chen looked at him without speaking.

Jensen Huang repeated himself, his tone heavier: "Any terms."

Su Chen was silent for three seconds.

Then he spoke, his voice as calm as if discussing the weather: "Mr. Huang, Xingchen wants a twenty percent stake in Nvidia. Not an acquisition, but a strategic investment. The price will be based on current market value."

Jensen Huang's expression changed for a split second, but he quickly regained his composure and nodded.

Su Chen continued: "The CUDA ecosystem must be open to Xingchen. Developers from both sides can share toolchains."

A flash of pain appeared in Jensen Huang's eyes. CUDA was his lifeblood, the culmination of twenty years of Nvidia's accumulation. But now, it had to be handed over.

He nodded again.

Su Chen stated the third condition: "Jointly define the next-generation GPU architecture. Xingchen will provide the AI core, and Nvidia will provide the graphics core."

Jensen Huang finally spoke, his voice gravelly: "Is twenty percent of the shares too much?"

Su Chen shook his head. "Mr. Huang, Nvidia's current market value is one-tenth of Xingchen's. A twenty percent stake is just a financial investment for Xingchen. But for Nvidia, it is a chance to survive."

Jensen Huang looked into his eyes for a very long time. In those eyes, there were twenty-five years of pride, three months of despair, and the struggle of the present moment. Finally, he reached out his hand.

"Deal."

The two hands gripped each other. No flashbulbs, no applause, only the silence of two men.

On January 15th, simultaneous press conferences were held in Shenzhen and Santa Clara. In Shenzhen, the auditorium at Xingchen Headquarters was packed with three thousand seats. Reporters had come from all over the world, their cameras aimed at the stage.

In Santa Clara, the auditorium at Nvidia's headquarters was equally crowded. American reporters, analysts, and investors all wanted to witness this historic moment for themselves.

On the large screens, Su Chen and Jensen Huang appeared simultaneously.

Su Chen spoke first, his voice calm and confident: "Today, Xingchen and Nvidia announce a strategic alliance."

Jensen Huang followed, his voice carrying a hint of relief: "We will jointly define the next-generation GPU architecture."

Su Chen: "Developers can use both the Pangu and CUDA ecosystems."

Jensen Huang: "Xingchen-Nvidia will provide the strongest power for global AI computing."

Below the stage, reporters recorded frantically.

Someone raised their hand; it was a reporter from The Wall Street Journal: "Mr. Huang, does this mean Nvidia has bowed its head to Xingchen?"

Jensen Huang was silent for three seconds.

Then he smiled, a smile with a calmness that had seen through everything: "It's not bowing. It's a choice. Choosing to cooperate, to walk into the future together—the era of AI."

Another reporter raised their hand, this time from China: "Mr. Su, why did Xingchen take a stake in Nvidia? Xingchen could have gone it alone."

Su Chen shook his head: "Go it alone? Nvidia has twenty-five years of graphics technology accumulation and an ecosystem of millions of developers. These are things Xingchen could build itself, but it would take ten years. Ten years is too long; AI cannot wait."

He paused: "Cooperation is the best choice. Xingchen provides the AI core, Nvidia provides the graphics core. Together, we will build the strongest GPU."

After the press conference, Jensen Huang stood alone by the floor-to-ceiling window at Nvidia's headquarters. Outside, the traffic on Highway 101 was still busy. But now, as he watched those cars, he was no longer thinking about competition, but about the future.

His phone rang. It was a text message from Su Chen:

"Welcome to the sea of stars. Next, let's change the world together."

Jensen Huang looked at it for a long time, then replied: "Twenty-five years ago, when I founded Nvidia, I wanted to change the world. Today, I finally have the chance."

He put down his phone and looked out the window.

The sun was setting, dyeing all of Silicon Valley golden.