391: Chapter 391 Starlink Heavenly Court Global Coverage

In March, spring came exceptionally early to Shenzhen. In the global press hall of Xingchen Aerospace, all three thousand seats were occupied. A circular screen stretched from the floor to the ceiling, wrapping everyone in a massive dome. The screen was dark, with only whispers in the shadows. Then, the Earth lit up.

That azure planet slowly rotated at the center of the dome, with clouds, oceans, and continents all appearing lifelike. Then, points of light began to appear—not hundreds, not thousands, but twenty thousand blue points of light. From the equator to the poles, from East to West, they wove an airtight net across the orbits. The North and South Poles, the center of the Pacific Ocean, the depths of the Sahara, the summit of the Tibetan Plateau—every corner was covered.

Chu Tianming stood in the center of the stage, with this weaving sky-net behind him. The sixty-one-year-old CEO of Xingchen Aerospace had more white hair than last year, but his back was straight. "Today, Starlink 2.0 has completed its deployment. Twenty thousand satellites in orbit."

The large screen lit up, and technical parameters poured down like a waterfall:

Starlink 2.0 Technical Parameters

Satellites in Orbit: 20,000

Global Coverage: 100% (including poles, oceans, and deserts)

Download Speed: 1 Gbps

Latency: 15ms (Urban), 30ms (Remote)

Subscription: $39/month (Global Uniformity)

Positioning Accuracy: Centimeter-level (Open for Free)

IoT Coverage: Global

The three thousand people below held their breath. The representative from AT&T sat in the third row, fingers tightly gripping the armrests. The representative from British BT looked down at his phone, a message on the screen sent to headquarters: "The sky-net is complete." The representative from Japan's NTT stood up, the sound of the chair scraping the floor particularly piercing in the quiet hall. He looked at no one and walked straight toward the exit.

Chu Tianming smiled: "The subscription is 280 yuan a month. Cheaper than the broadband in your cities."

At 11:00 AM, the application demonstration began. On the large screen: a Maasai village in Kenya, Africa. Children sat around an acacia tree with several tablets in front of them. The signal bars were full. This was the first time a remote village in Sub-Saharan Africa had access to 1 Gbps broadband. The second scene: a drone landed precisely on a moving truck platform with an error of only three centimeters. The third scene: in the center of the Pacific Ocean, a buoy transmitted ocean data in real-time. Previously, there had been no signal here. The fourth scene: a UN humanitarian aid team established a communication station deep in the Congo rainforest, video calling the Geneva headquarters; the picture was so clear that the sweat on the other person's face was visible.

Chu Tianming said: "The final item—the United Nations has just procured the Starlink 'Tianting' emergency communication system to cover global humanitarian aid operations."

Thunderous applause erupted. Three thousand people stood to applaud, including those telecom representatives with ashen faces.

At 1:00 PM that day, the New York Stock Exchange. Before the opening bell had even finished ringing, AT&T's stock price had already begun to plummet. Eighteen percent, twenty percent, twenty-two percent. Verizon followed closely behind: fifteen percent, eighteen percent, twenty percent. T-Mobile dropped seventeen percent.

On the trading floor, traders in red vests screamed at the screens. An old broker who had traded telecom stocks for thirty years held his head in his hands: "I've seen the dot-com bubble burst, I've seen the financial crisis, but I've never seen a scene like this. Five hundred billion in market value gone in one day." The CNBC anchor's voice trembled: "Global telecom operators have seen five hundred billion dollars evaporate in a single day. This isn't a correction; it's a crash."

At 2:00 PM, the London Stock Exchange. BT fell 20%, Vodafone fell 18%, Orange fell 15%. At 3:00 PM, the Tokyo Stock Exchange. NTT fell 22%, KDDI fell 18%, SoftBank fell 15%. At 4:00 PM, the Frankfurt Stock Exchange. Deutsche Telekom fell 20%, Telefónica fell 18%, Telecom Italia fell 16%. Within a single day, the global telecom industry lost one-fifth of its market value.

That evening, in Hawthorne, California. In the SpaceX headquarters office, Elon Musk sat behind his desk. On the screen before him, the Starlink user churn report showed a shocking red curve—a 30% loss of users over the past three months. An assistant stood at the door, voice very soft: "Elon, Xingchen's 'Tianting' subscription is thirty-nine dollars, while ours is a hundred and ten. Users are asking why they should spend three times the money for slower internet."

Musk was silent for a long time, fingers tapping lightly on the desk. Then he looked up: "What about Amazon's side?"

The assistant hesitated: "Project Kuiper has also stopped. Bezos said—"

Musk stared at him: "What did he say?"

The assistant took a deep breath: "He said, it's not that we can't catch up, it's that we were headed in the wrong direction."

Musk was stunned. Then he laughed, a smile filled with bitterness, relief, and a rare trace of exhaustion: "The wrong direction. We're still building rockets, while they've already covered the sky with their net." He stood up and walked to the window. The Hawthorne sunset was fading, and the distant Pacific Ocean shimmered with golden light in the twilight. "Issue a statement. Starlink is pivoting—focusing on Mars communications. We're leaving Earth to Xingchen."

That night, Amazon officially released a video. Bezos stood before the camera, a Blue Origin rocket model behind him, his expression calm but his eyes dim: "After evaluation, Amazon has decided to terminate 'Project Kuiper.' It's not that we can't catch up to Xingchen, it's that we were headed in the wrong direction."

A reporter followed up: "Where did we go wrong?"

Bezos smiled bitterly: "We were still using 20th-century logic—using satellites to fill the gaps on Earth. Xingchen used twenty thousand satellites to redefine Earth's internet. It's not about filling gaps; it's total coverage. It's not a backup; it's the mainstream." He paused. "Congratulations to Xingchen. We admit defeat."

Twitter's servers were nearly overwhelmed. "Bezos admitted defeat!" " 'It's not that we can't catch up, it's that we were headed in the wrong direction'—that sentence is a gut punch." "Musk: I'm going to Mars. Bezos: I'm out. Xingchen: Do as you please."

The next morning, at the United Nations headquarters in New York. In the General Assembly Hall, representatives from 193 countries sat in circular seating. Secretary-General Guterres stood at the podium, the blue UN flag behind him.

"The United Nations announces the formal procurement of the 'Tianting' emergency communication system to cover global humanitarian aid operations." He paused. "This will save countless lives. In a disaster, communication is a lifeline. Hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis, wars—every minute without a signal could mean the loss of a life. From today, UN rescue teams can communicate with headquarters in real-time from any corner of the world."

Thunderous applause followed. Representatives from 193 countries stood to applaud, including those from the United States, Britain, and Japan—countries that only yesterday were trying to pass domestic legislation to restrict Xingchen's entry.

Lin Wan pushed open the door to Su Chen's office, holding a list. "One hundred and ninety-two countries have applied for access to 'Tianting,' including the US, UK, and Japan. Only North Korea is left."

Su Chen took the list, scanned it, and smiled: "Uniform subscription fees?"

Lin Wan nodded: "Uniform. Regardless of wealth, friend or foe. Two hundred and eighty yuan a month."

Su Chen walked to the window. The surface of Shenzhen Bay shimmered with golden light in the sunset. "Communication should be a human right, not a luxury. Water, electricity, air, and the internet—21st-century humanity cannot do without any of them."

Lin Wan stood beside him: "The US is also on the application list. They're still talking about sanctioning us."

Su Chen laughed: "Let them apply. Same speed, same fee. No discrimination, no special treatment. Communication is communication, regardless of friend or foe."

The next day, global media headlines were all about 'Tianting.' CNN: "'Tianting' deployment complete—Earth surrounded by Xingchen." BBC: "Twenty thousand satellites, 1 Gbps speed, thirty-nine dollars—Xingchen redefines the internet." The cover of The Economist featured a striking image—the Earth shrouded in a massive net of blue light points, with a single lonely satellite floating in the bottom right corner. The headline: "The Sky Belongs to Xinghuo" (The Sky Belongs to Xingchen).

Twitter's comment section exploded. "Twenty thousand satellites. Musk's Starlink only has four thousand. Xingchen is five times Starlink." "Thirty-nine dollars a month. I'm in New York, and broadband costs eighty dollars. Xingchen is cheaper than land-based broadband." "Centimeter-level positioning for free. GPS still charges. Xingchen is generous." "From today on, the Earth's internet is called Xingchen."

That night, in Shenzhen. Su Chen stood by the window, looking at the Shenzhen skyline. Lin Wan walked over and handed him a cup of tea. "One hundred and ninety-two countries have connected. Telecom operators have dropped twenty-five percent. Musk is going to Mars. Bezos has admitted defeat."

Su Chen took a sip of tea: "'Tianting' isn't a product; it's infrastructure. Like electricity, like water. Anyone can use it. But the standards—we set them."

Lin Wan looked at him: "That's called a monopoly."

Su Chen shook his head, his gaze distant: "A monopoly is exclusive, not letting others use it. We're letting the whole world use it. That's called a standard. From now on, anyone who goes online will do so through Xingchen. Not because we monopolized the market, but because we built the best network."

Outside the window, in the night sky over Shenzhen Bay, a satellite moved slowly. It was one of the twenty thousand, orbiting the Earth at 7.8 kilometers per second at an altitude of 550 kilometers. Below it, in a Maasai village in Kenya, children were using tablets to see the world. A buoy in the center of the Pacific was transmitting ocean data. A rescue team deep in the Congo rainforest was video calling Geneva. A research station under the Antarctic ice sheet was sending messages home to say they were safe.

Every second, hundreds of millions of data points flowed through these satellites. Earth, for the first time, was completely wrapped in a single network. Not fiber optics, not base stations, but a sky-net woven from twenty thousand stars. And the switch for this network was in an office in Shenzhen facing the sea.