Tech Giants: Starting from Bankrupt Companies

284: Chapter 284 Southeast Asian UpheavalThe Istana, Singapore

The atmosphere was starkly different.

The curtains of the oval conference room were tightly drawn, and the lights were dim. The maps on the walls, the data on the screens, and the documents on the table were all shrouded in an oppressive silence.

Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong sat at one end of the long table, his expression solemn. Opposite him sat the U.S. Ambassador to Singapore, David Thornton—55 years old, with meticulously combed blonde hair and a sharp suit, the quintessential image of an American diplomat.

The large screen displayed the policy Malaysia had just announced:

”Malaysia will halve import tariffs on Spark products, effective immediately.”

Lee Hsien Loong’s fingers lightly tapped the tabletop, a habitual movement when he was anxious.

”Mr. Ambassador,” he began, his voice low, ”with Malaysia leaning entirely toward Morning Star, the balance of the entire ASEAN will be broken. We need more than just economic cooperation; we need explicit military guarantees.”

Thornton nodded, well-prepared. ”The White House has already approved it—the number of U.S. Navy vessels allowed to rotate through Changi Naval Base will double, increasing from the current two to four. The sales license for the F-35 can also be accelerated, with the first batch of 12 to be delivered before 2025.”

”Not enough.”

Thornton was stunned.

Lee Hsien Loong looked him straight in the eye and said word for word, ”What we want is written confirmation of a nuclear umbrella.”

A deathly silence fell over the conference room.

A nuclear umbrella.

Singapore had never dared to formally mention these two words. Once put in writing, it would mean Singapore formally became part of the United States’ ’extended deterrence’—just like Japan and South Korea. It was equivalent to publicly announcing that Singapore stood under the protection of the U.S. nuclear arsenal.

This would completely infuriate neighboring countries, especially Malaysia and Indonesia.

Thornton remained silent for a long time.

”Your Excellency,” he finally spoke, his voice becoming cautious, ”once this step is taken, there is no turning back. How will Malaysia react? How will Indonesia react? How will China react?”

Lee Hsien Loong looked out the window.

Outside was the Singapore River, its waters shimmering in the sunlight. On the opposite bank was the financial district with its dense clusters of skyscrapers, the pride of Singapore—the financial center of Southeast Asia and the world’s third-largest foreign exchange trading hub.

But further away was the direction of the Strait of Malacca.

Cargo ships were passing through. Half of them came from China.

”We already have no way back,” Lee Hsien Loong said. ”Malaysia’s choice forces us to make one. We either lean entirely toward the United States, or in the coming decades, we watch as Morning Star’s industrial system turns the entire ASEAN into its backyard.”

He turned back to face Thornton.

”Singapore has no resources, no hinterland, and no population. All we can rely on is our geographical location—the throat of the Strait of Malacca—and American protection.”

”If even American protection is not explicit, how can we attract capital, retain talent, and maintain prosperity?”

Thornton was silent for a long while before finally nodding.

”I will convey this. But Your Excellency, please understand—Washington needs time to evaluate this decision.”

”How long?”

”At least one month.”

Lee Hsien Loong closed his eyes.

One month.

For Singapore, one month was too long.

At the same time in Hanoi, at the Vietnamese Prime Minister’s Office.

The atmosphere in the conference room was completely different—not oppressive, but urgent.

Vietnamese Prime Minister Nguyen Xuan Phuc sat at one end of the long table, a cigarette between his fingers. Amidst the swirling smoke, his brow was furrowed.

”Malaysia has secured a complete chip production line.” The Minister of Industry’s voice was excited, the documents in his hand trembling. ”28 nanometers! The first in ASEAN! Meanwhile, we are still importing second-hand equipment! Scraps discarded by Japan!”

”Their car factories can roll a vehicle off the line every 90 seconds,” the Minister of Transport added, his voice dry. ”Our domestic car brand, VinFast, can only build 30 units a day, and they frequently break down.”

”Their mobile phone factories have an annual capacity of 5 million units,” the Minister of Information continued. ”Our local brands can’t even sell 1 million units.”

Nguyen Xuan Phuc took a deep drag on his cigarette and then crushed the butt in the ashtray.

”Has the team sent to Shenzhen departed?”

”The flight left an hour ago. Led by Vice Minister of Industry and Trade Nguyen Van Cuong, there are 15 people in total.”

”Tell them—” Nguyen Xuan Phuc stood up and walked to the window, ”keep a low profile, and the terms are negotiable. What we want is not just to buy equipment, but a complete transfer of technology. chip lines, car lines, phone lines—negotiate for as much as you can.”

The Foreign Minister hesitated. ”Prime Minister, will this offend the United States?”

Nguyen Xuan Phuc turned back, his gaze sharp.

”Can the United States give Vietnam a 28nm chip production line?”

The Foreign Minister was silent.

”Can the United States give us a car factory with an annual output of 100,000 vehicles?”

The Foreign Minister remained silent.

”Can the United States train engineers for us, establish R&D centers, and transfer core technologies?”

The Foreign Minister finally spoke, ”No.”

Nguyen Xuan Phuc gave a bitter smile. ”Then shut up.”

He looked out the window again. On the streets of Hanoi, the flow of motorcycles was like a woven tapestry, a daily sight in Vietnam. But further away was the direction of the South China Sea.

”The Americans always say they want to help us defend our rights in the South China Sea,” Nguyen Xuan Phuc murmured. ”But their way of helping us is to sell weapons, send warships, and rope us into confronting China.”

”But what we want is not confrontation; it’s development.”

”28nm chips are development. If Su Chen can give us what we want, we don’t mind becoming the second Malaysia. As long as the people can lead prosperous lives, Vietnam can cooperate with any country or enterprise. We are a government of the people, not a U.S. vassal.”

1:00 PM, Shenzhen Bao’an International Airport.

The special plane of the Vietnamese economic and trade delegation landed on the runway.

Fifteen people filed out. Leading them was Nguyen Van Cuong, who stood on the air stairs and took a deep breath.

Seven days ago, this was the exclusive passage for global CEOs—the presidents of Boeing, Airbus, Siemens, Apple, and Samsung had been coming and going from here.

Today, it was Vietnam’s turn.

Outside the terminal, a black business van was already waiting. Standing by the door was a middle-aged man in a dark suit—Chen Mo, Vice President of Xingchen International. 42 years old, a graduate of Tsinghua’s School of Economics and Management, he had worked in Huawei’s overseas marketing department for ten years before being headhunted by Su Chen last year.

”Minister Nguyen, welcome,” Chen Mo said, extending his hand and greeting him in Vietnamese.

Nguyen Van Cuong was taken aback for a moment, then shook it. ”Your Vietnamese is very standard, VP Chen.”

”When I was at Huawei, I was responsible for the Vietnamese market,” Chen Mo smiled. ”Please get in the car. President Su is waiting for you.”

The motorcade left the airport, speeding toward Nanshan District along the Guangzhou-Shenzhen Expressway.

Outside the window, Shenzhen’s cityscape flashed by: office buildings in the technology park, active construction sites, and a never-ending stream of traffic.

Nguyen Van Cuong watched, entranced.

”I first came to Shenzhen in 1991,” he said softly. ”Back then, this place was still a small fishing village. Our Hanoi was much more prosperous than Shenzhen.”

”Twenty-seven years have passed. We are still in the same place, while Shenzhen has become a global technology center.”

Chen Mo did not respond. He knew that at this moment, letting the Vietnamese people experience it for themselves was more persuasive than any words.

The arrival of the Vietnamese delegation signified that Su Chen’s strategy of exporting his industrial system had succeeded. As more and more developing countries joined the Morning Star system, they would become dependent on Morning Star’s equipment, production lines, and Spark’s chips and materials.