188: Chapter 188 Facts Speak Louder Than Words

"Is this what you call 'fraud'?" Zhang Cheng suddenly spoke. His voice was not loud, but it clearly carried throughout the venue via the microphone. "We don't deal in illusions. The New Myanmar Kyat is pegged 1:1 to the Chinese Yuan, its value is stable, and it is even more sought after than the US dollar on the black markets in Southeast Asia! Because behind us, we have tangible industrial output and the massive market of China!"

He stood up, walked to the front of the stage, and pointed at the reporter from The New York Times. "You said it was impossible just now? Then go ask the auntie selling skewers on the streets of Yangon. Ask her how many times her current income has multiplied compared to before! Previously, she earned 20,000 Myanmar Kyats a day and couldn't even buy a catty of meat; now, she earns 500 New Myanmar Kyats a day and can buy a cartload of rice!"

"This is—fact!"

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience once again.

Over this past year, the changes in Myanmar have been earth-shattering. The China-Myanmar Economic Corridor is fully operational, with railways and highways acting like veins, tightly connecting this country to the giant dragon in the north. Raw materials from China come in, processed goods from Myanmar go out, and the price difference and added value remain entirely on this land.

"In the past, we were poor because we were chaotic, and because we were being bled dry by others." Zhang Cheng's voice became deep and powerful. "Now, no one can suck our blood anymore! We generate our own blood, and we eat our own meat!"

After the meeting, Zhang Cheng met with several special guests in the lounge—the chairman of a large Chinese infrastructure group and several private entrepreneurs.

"President Zhang, this is truly shocking!" The chairman shook Zhang Cheng's hand, so excited that he was incoherent. "The speed of development this past year is simply a replica of the 'Shenzhen Speed'! Our group has decided to increase our investment! We want to build three more cement plants and two power stations in Myitkyina!"

"Welcome!" Zhang Cheng smiled as he poured tea for them. "As long as you are sincerely here to help us with construction, we will provide land, policies, and security guarantees! From now on in Myanmar, Chinese businessmen are VIPs. If anyone dares to lay a finger on you, I will chop off their claws!"

After seeing the guests off, Old K stepped out from the shadows.

"Master, that USA reporter was just on the phone in the restroom, crying to his headquarters that his article couldn't be sent out." Even on Old K's eternal iceberg face, a rare trace of mockery appeared. "He said if he wrote the truth, his editor would scold him as a 'Myanmar propaganda machine'; if he didn't write the truth, he couldn't bring himself to fabricate the lie that 'the people of Myanmar are living in deep misery and suffering'."

Zhang Cheng laughed heartily: "Let them struggle with it! This is what's called—walking on someone else's path, leaving them nowhere to go! We are going to use our tangible livelihood to slap them hard in the face!"

He walked to the window and looked at the brilliant night view of Naypyidaw outside.

"This is just the beginning." Ambition flickered in Zhang Cheng's eyes. "The economy has been boosted; next, it's time to change the minds of this group of people."

With the economic take-off, a more profound transformation was quietly taking place in Myanmar—'Sinicization'.

This wasn't something Zhang Cheng forced, but rather something the common people voted for with their feet.

In the center of Mandalay, an expensive English training institution had gone bankrupt, replaced by a 'Confucius Institute Branch' with hanging red lanterns and an antique, classic decor.

Early in the morning, a long queue had already formed at the entrance. In the line, there were not only teenagers, but also middle-aged people in their thirties and forties, and even women holding children.

"Hey, don't push, don't push! There are still application forms!" A gentle young man wearing glasses was maintaining order at the entrance. His name was Li Ming, a graduate from a second-tier university in China. He had been struggling fiercely to find a job back home, but as soon as he heard that Myanmar was recruiting Chinese language teachers with generous benefits and provided housing, he came immediately.

"Teacher, I want to sign up for that 'Business Chinese Crash Course'!" A local young man with dark skin squeezed to the front, waving the New Myanmar Kyats in his hand. "I work in a factory, and the foreman said that as long as I can pass the HSK Level 3 exam, my salary will immediately increase by one thousand!"

"I want to sign up too! I want to be a cashier at a supermarket opened by Chinese people, but they won't hire me if I can't speak Mandarin!"

"Teacher, my child is only three years old. Can I sign him up for an early education class? I want him to study abroad in China in the future!"

Watching this bustling scene, Li Ming felt wonderful. Back home, he was an 'unemployed youth in flexible employment due to the devaluation of academic credentials', but here? He was the respected 'Teacher Li', the 'guide' who held the key to the high-income class!

This scene was playing out in every city in Myanmar.

Zhang Cheng's 'Talent Attraction Plan' was exceptionally effective. Tens of thousands of unemployed Chinese university students and surplus teaching staff were attracted to Myanmar by high salaries and excellent benefits. They entered schools, factories, and communities, becoming the new force for promoting the Chinese language.

And on the cultural level, the subtle influence was even more astonishing.

In a teahouse in Naypyidaw, several locals were gathered around a large television, watching with great interest. What was playing on TV wasn't some Hollywood blockbuster, but the hit Chinese drama "The Knockout".

"Oh my, this Gao Qiqiang is too amazing! Is this what 'wanting to eat fish' means?"

"That Officer An Xin is the real good guy! Just like the police officers sent by our President Zhang!"

While drinking milk tea, they discussed the plot in broken Chinese. Nearby, several young people were holding their phones, scrolling through the special edition of "Myanmar TikTok"—the content was almost synchronized with the Chinese version, full of Chinese food, scenery, and funny skits.

"Look at this! Chongqing hot pot! It looks so delicious! When I have money, I must go to Chongqing to eat it once!"

"Stop dreaming, straighten out your tongue first! You couldn't even pronounce 'Four is four, ten is ten' correctly just now!"

This kind of cultural infiltration left those Westerners who were still trying to engage in "democratic export" through NGO organizations completely dumbfounded.

A USA cultural attaché tried to set up some kind of "English Corner" in a village, but only two stray dogs showed up all afternoon. He asked the village chief in a rage: "Why doesn't anyone come to learn English? English is the international common language, it is the bridge to the free world!"

The village chief puffed on his dry pipe, looking at him as if he were an idiot: "Can learning English get me into a factory? Can learning English help me sell fruit to Chinese bosses? No? Then what the hell is the point of learning it! Can freedom be eaten as a meal? We only want to make money now!"

This scene was recorded by Old K's people and placed on Zhang Cheng's desk.

"Hahahaha!" Zhang Cheng laughed so hard that tears were almost coming out. "This is called dimensionality reduction attack! Whatever universal values, in front of the hard truth of 'making money', they are all scum!"