Tech Giants: Starting from Bankrupt Companies

276: Chapter 276 Comprehensive Cooperation with Malaysia10:00 AM, Prime Minister’s Office, Kuala Lumpur.

Morning light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows into the Prime Minister’s office, casting long shadows on the mahogany floor.

Mahathir Ismail sat at his desk, his fountain pen hovering over the document, unable to bring it down for a long time.

He was 80 years old this year, his hair completely white, and his face covered in the furrows carved by time, but his eyes remained sharp—like an eagle, like a hunter, like all the political animals that had survived in this complex world for sixty years.

There were five documents on the table, each over a hundred pages long, with the Malaysian national emblem and the silver logo of Xingchen hot-stamped on the cover.

”Malaysia-Xingchen Comprehensive Industrial Cooperation Agreement”

Secretary of Defense Razak Hussein stood to the side, his palms sweating. He watched the hovering pen, feeling as if time had frozen.

Outside the window, the skyline of Kuala Lumpur became clear in the morning light—the Petronas Towers, KL Tower, Merdeka 118—those forests of steel and concrete were the testament to Malaysia’s fifty years of modernization.

But fifty years had passed; how much of the technology inside those skyscrapers belonged to Malaysia itself?

”Prime Minister,” Razak finally couldn’t help but speak softly, ”The American Ambassador sought me out late last night and spoke with me for three hours.”

Mahathir did not look up, his pen still hovering: ”What did he say?”

”He said... if Malaysia insists on comprehensive cooperation with Xingchen, it will affect the long-standing friendly relations between the two countries.” Razak’s voice was very low, as if repeating words he didn’t want to recall. ”He also hinted that they might re-evaluate military aid to Malaysia. They might cancel the follow-up maintenance contract for the F/A-18s. They might... no longer support our position on the South China Sea issue.”

Mahathir slowly raised his head.

Those eagle-like eyes looked at Razak, making his back feel cold.

”Military aid?” Mahathir laughed, a dry, raspy sound like wind in the desert, ”How much military aid does the United States give us each year?”

Razak opened his mouth: ”About... 20 million USD.”

”20 million.” Mahathir put down the pen, leaned back in his chair, and turned his gaze to the window, ”Do you know how much we are spending to buy Xingchen weapons?”

”8 billion.”

”8 billion USD.” Mahathir repeated the number, ”If the United States could give me 8 billion USD in aid, I would tear up the agreement immediately. Do they have it?”

Razak was silent.

”The F/A-18 maintenance contract?” Mahathir continued, ”The annual maintenance cost for those ancient planes is enough to buy two new JF-17s. The South China Sea issue? The United States’ support in the South China Sea is just sending an aircraft carrier to circle around, take a few photos, and then say at a press conference, ’We stand with Malaysia’.”

There was no anger in his voice, only exhaustion.

”They stand with us, and then what? When our fishermen were detained, where were they? When our oil and gas fields were occupied, where were they?”

Razak lowered his head, unable to answer.

Mahathir stood up and walked to the window.

Sunlight shone on his aged face, revealing the furrows carved by time, and also illuminated those eyes that remained sharp.

”Razak, do you know how old I am this year?”

”Eighty years old, Prime Minister.”

”Eighty years old.” Mahathir murmured, ”I was born in 1925. Back then, Malaysia was still a British colony called Malaya.”

He pointed to the Petronas Towers outside the window: ”That building was completed in 1998. I was already Prime Minister then. I watched it rise from the foundation to the topping out, just like watching this country stand up bit by bit.”

”But what stood up was the building, not the industry.”

He turned around, facing the five agreements on the desk.

”The British ruled us for 100 years; what did they give us? Rubber plantations, tin mines, ports—ports used to ship away the rubber and tin.”

”The Japanese occupied us for 3 years; what did they give us? Comfort women, coolies, bayonets.”

”The United States protected us for 50 years; what did they give us? 20 million USD in annual military aid, a few second-hand planes, and a free trade agreement that is always ’under evaluation’.”

His voice became low, as if talking to himself:

”Resources taken away, markets occupied, young people can only go work as maids, laborers, or screws on an assembly line. Every time I go to the Kuala Lumpur airport and see those young faces lining up to go abroad, my heart feels like it’s being cut by a knife.”

Razak’s eyes felt a bit sore.

He knew the Prime Minister was telling the truth. Malaysia exports over 500,000 laborers every year, going to Singapore to wait tables, to Japan as trainees, to Australia to pick fruit. Those young people should have been the future of this country.

”But Xingchen...” Mahathir’s gaze fell on those five agreements, ”Xingchen only took 7 days to give us a complete industrial system.”

He walked back to the desk and picked up the pen again.

”Mobile phone production line, with an annual output of 5 million units. In the future, ASEAN’s mobile phones can be made in Malaysia.”

”Car production line, with an annual output of 500,000 vehicles. In the future, the cars running on Malaysian roads will be cars made by Malaysia itself.”

”chip production line, 28 nanometers. The first autonomous chip line in ASEAN. From now on, we won’t have to look at others’ faces.”

He opened the fourth agreement, his eyes resting on the ”National Defense” page:

”Sabertooth HX-30 Main Battle Tanks: 48 units”

”Lynx Infantry Fighting Vehicles: 120 units”

”Peregrine Falcon Air Defense Systems: 12 sets”

”Xingchen to establish an equipment maintenance center in Malaysia”

”Razak.” Mahathir suddenly asked, ”Tell me, if Singapore knows we have these weapons, will they still point fingers from across the Johor Strait?”

Razak was stunned for a moment, then shook his head: ”No, Prime Minister.”

”If Vietnam knows we have a complete industrial system, will they still dare to fight over our fishing grounds in the South China Sea?”

”...They would not dare.”

”If the United States knows we don’t need their protection anymore, will they still give us 20 million a year to shoo us away like beggars?”

Razak did not answer, but he knew the answer.

Mahathir opened the fifth agreement to the last page.

”Xingchen Technical Training Center, training 3,000 engineers every year.”

”Malaysia to select and send students to intern at the Xingchen R&D Center.”

”Both sides to jointly establish the ’ASEAN-Xingchen Industrial Research Institute’.”

”3,000 engineers.” Mahathir murmured, ”3,000 a year, 30,000 in ten years. These people will come back to build Malaysia, instead of going to Singapore to wait tables.”

He raised his head and looked at Razak, something glistening in his eyes.

”I am eighty years old, Razak. This is my last time serving as Prime Minister. In my life, I have seen the British leave, seen the Japanese arrive, seen the Americans make promises, and seen Japanese investment. Each of them said they wanted to help us, each of them said they loved us.”

”But only Xingchen gave us the right to choose.”

The pen fell.

Mahathir Ismail.

Five agreements, effective simultaneously.

12:00 PM, Kuala Lumpur, Prime Minister’s Office of Malaysia Press Conference.

The press conference hall was packed with reporters.

Mahathir stood on the podium, with the silver logo of Xingchen and the Malaysian national flag standing side-by-side behind him.

”I have just signed a series of the most important cooperation agreements in Malaysian history.” He said to the camera, ”This is not betraying the country; this is building the nation.”

A Western reporter raised their hand: ”Mr. Prime Minister, the U.S. State Department just expressed ’disappointment’. How do you respond?”

Mahathir laughed, a childlike slyness appearing on that aged face:

”Tell them, disappointment is normal. It’s like pursuing a girl for fifty years, and she ends up marrying someone else—of course you’re disappointed.”

The whole room burst into laughter.

”But after the disappointment, you have to think about why.” Mahathir continued, ”Is it because you aren’t handsome enough? Not rich enough? Or because you only said you loved her with your mouth, but never gave her what she wanted?”

He paused, facing the camera, enunciating every word:

”Xingchen gave Malaysia what it wanted. A complete industrial system—not charity, but cooperation; not as a vassal, but as a partner.”

”So, let them be disappointed.”

When the news reached Hanoi, the Minister of Industry and Trade, Tran Tuan Anh, was eating lunch.

The secretary rushed in, the news of the Kuala Lumpur press conference flashing on the mobile phone screen.

”Minister, Malaysia signed it! 32 billion USD! Mobile phones, cars, chips, weapons, talent training—they got it all!”

Tran Tuan Anh put down his chopsticks, took the phone, and browsed quickly.

”Sabertooth tanks, Lynx infantry fighting vehicles, Peregrine Falcon air defense...” He murmured, ”This is going to arm Malaysia into a small hegemon of ASEAN.”

Three seconds later, he made a decision.

”Get me the Xingchen International Business Department, now.”

After the call connected, Tran Tuan Anh didn’t exchange pleasantries: ”I am Vietnam’s Minister of Industry and Trade, Tran Tuan Anh. We want the agreement that Malaysia signed, too. Mobile phone production lines, car production lines, the faster the better. The price is negotiable, the terms are negotiable, as long as Xingchen is willing to come.”

On the other end of the line, the Xingchen business representative was clearly stunned: ”Minister Tran, we need to prepare...”

”Don’t prepare.” Tran Tuan Anh interrupted, ”You send a delegation to Hanoi, and we will send a delegation to Shenzhen. We will proceed on both fronts. The Politburo of the Communist Party of Vietnam has authorized it; as long as the agreement content does not harm national security, we can handle it as a special case.”

After hanging up the phone, he said to the secretary: ”Tell the Prime Minister, Vietnam cannot fall behind Malaysia. Otherwise, in ten years, the right to call the shots in ASEAN will belong to Kuala Lumpur.”