Tech Giants: Starting from Bankrupt Companies

293: Chapter 293 Negotiations in Progress - Military Industry and DefenseThe afternoon sunlight filtered through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden spots on the long oak table.

Outside, the Moskva River flowed quietly as a cruise ship slowly passed by. However, the atmosphere inside the room was even more solemn than it had been in the morning.

The Russian Minister of Communications, Dubovik, opened the file in front of him and pushed it toward Fan Sizhe.

His finger pressed against a map, tracing a line from Moscow to Vladivostok, spanning nine time zones.

”Russia’s land area is seventeen million square kilometers. From Kaliningrad to Kamchatka, fiber optic cables must cross six mountain ranges, twelve major rivers, and three hundred kilometers of permafrost.”

He looked up, his gaze sharp:

”In the Soviet Union era, we used copper cables. In the nineties, we switched to European fiber optics. After the year 2000, we used Huawei equipment. Now, the United States is sanctioning Huawei, and Ericsson and Nokia might follow suit.”

He closed the file:

”We cannot allow our communication lifeline to be held in the hands of those who might cut off our supply at any moment.”

Fan Sizhe did not speak.

He stood up, walked to the window, and with his back to everyone, watched the Moskva River outside.

The negotiation hall was so quiet that the ticking of the wall clock could be heard.

Thirty seconds later, he turned around.

”Xingchen’s equipment uses entirely self-developed chips. 28-nanometer baseband, 16-nanometer core network—from tape-out to packaging, it is 100% autonomous.”

He walked back to his seat and looked directly at Dubovik:

”The United States can sanction any company that uses American technology. But they cannot sanction Xingchen. Because our technology has nothing to do with them.”

Dubovik’s eyes lit up.

”You mean, the United States can’t sanction it?”

Fan Sizhe nodded:

”Theoretically, they can sanction companies that use Xingchen equipment. But if the Russian government mandates its use, American companies will only have two choices—either exit the Russian market or drop the sanctions.”

Dubovik smiled.

In that smile, there was relief, but also mockery.

”That’s good. Let them choose.”

He pushed over another file, which was filled with dense technical proposals.

”Xingchen will form a joint venture with the Russian State Telecom Company to deploy 5G base stations across Russia. The first phase will cover thirty cities including Moscow, Saint Petersburg, Yekaterinburg, Novosibirsk, and Vladivostok. The second phase will cover another seventy.”

”Total investment is eight billion dollars, to be completed over three years.”

Fan Sizhe took the file and scanned it quickly.

Numbers, sites, spectrum, bandwidth, redundancy design... every item was clearly written.

He looked up: ”Investment ratio?”

Dubovik: ”Xingchen will invest four billion dollars for a 50% stake. The Russian State Telecom Company will invest four billion dollars for a 50% stake.”

Fan Sizhe’s fingers tapped lightly on the tabletop twice.

”Management rights?”

Dubovik pondered for two seconds: ”Joint management. A board of seven members: four from the Russian side and three from Xingchen. Major decisions require a two-thirds majority to pass.”

Fan Sizhe looked toward the other end of the long table.

Su Chen sat there and had not spoken the entire time.

At this moment, he nodded slightly.

Fan Sizhe closed the file.

”Agreed.”

Dubovik reached out his hand.

Two hands shook together.

Outside, a cruise ship on the Moskva River happened to pass by, and the sound of its horn drifted in faintly, as if playing a prelude for this moment.

The next morning at 9:00 AM, Kremlin Negotiation Hall.

The Russian Minister of Industry, Manturov, closed the folder in front of him and looked up.

”Russia’s machine tool industry was once second in the world during the Soviet Union era.” His voice was low, carrying a hint of nostalgia. ”The heavy machine tool plant in Kazan, the precision machine tool plant in Ulyanovsk, the heavy machine tool plant in Kolomna—now, 80% rely on imports.”

He paused for a moment.

”We want to rebuild.”

Gao Mingxuan, opposite him, did not speak. He stood up, walked to the display screen by the wall, and pulled up a 3D model of a Xingchen machine tool.

”Heavenly Work Five-Axis.” He pointed at the first model as the machine tool on the screen rotated slowly. ”Positioning accuracy of 0.001 mm, repeat positioning accuracy of 0.0008 mm. Aero-engine blades, precision molds, medical devices—this is for you.”

He switched to the second model.

”Taishan Gantry. Eight-meter span, five-meter machining height, 180 tons in weight. Wind turbine blade molds, ship propellers, large aerospace structural components.”

Finally, the third model appeared.

A true behemoth. The numerical labels on the screen showed: machining diameter of twelve meters, load capacity of 300 tons.

”Xingtian Ultra-Heavy Duty Turn-Mill Composite Machine Tool.” Gao Mingxuan turned to face the Russian delegation. ”Nuclear submarine main shafts, aircraft carrier propellers, turbine rotors. Only three companies in the world can make equipment of this level. Now, Xingchen is the fourth.”

Manturov stared at the screen, his pupils contracting slightly.

”This one.” His voice became even lower. ”We need this most. At least ten units per year.”

Gao Mingxuan shook his head.

”Xingtian’s current annual production capacity is only twenty units. We can sell five to Russia.”

Manturov frowned and was about to speak when Gao Mingxuan raised a hand to stop him.

”But position-tracking chips must be installed, and they can only be used in designated factories.”

Manturov’s brow furrowed into a knot.

”This...”

”This is Xingchen’s uniform management for ultra-heavy equipment.” Gao Mingxuan’s voice was as calm as if he were stating the weather. ”To prevent technology from flowing to third parties. All customers are subject to the same conditions. Saudi Arabia, Iran, Malaysia—all the same.”

Manturov turned to look at Borisov.

Borisov leaned slightly and looked toward Putin, who was sitting in the observation seats.

The sunlight hit Putin’s face; he squinted slightly and then nodded gently.

”Accepted,” Manturov turned back. ”But the Russian side must have access to the chip data at any time.”

”Agreed,” Gao Mingxuan nodded.

Manturov opened the second file.

”Five Xingtians, ten Taishans, thirty Heavenly Works. Total amount is approximately 400 million dollars.” He paused. ”In addition, we need Xingchen’s help to renovate our existing machine tool plants. The Kazan plant, the Ulyanovsk plant, and the Kolomna plant—three in total.”

Gao Mingxuan pondered for a moment.

”Renovation is possible. But Xingchen’s CNC system must be used.”

Manturov’s hand stopped on the file.

The CNC system—the brain of the machine tool. If they all switched to Xingchen’s system, it would mean that control over Russia’s machine tool industry would partially transfer to Xingchen’s hands.

He looked at Vladimir Sergeyevich.

Vladimir Sergeyevich did not look at him. He was looking at the cruise ship on the Moskva River outside the window.

Silence lasted for five seconds.

Then Vladimir Sergeyevich spoke, his voice soft, but everyone heard him clearly:

”Use Xingchen’s system. It’s five years faster than developing our own.”

Manturov closed the file.

”Agreed.”

He reached out his hand.

Gao Mingxuan shook it.

The negotiations continued.

Outside, the sunlight slanted through the tall windows, casting golden spots on the dark walnut table. Outside, the Moskva River flowed quietly, with an occasional cruise ship passing by, leaving a white wake behind it.

But the air inside the window was as cold as if it had frozen.

Shoigu sat in the center of the long table, his sixty-year-old shoulders still broad, his military uniform crisp and his chest covered in medals. He didn’t flip through the file in front of him; he just stared at Gu Xinghe opposite him.

Three seconds.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

This was the oldest weapon at the negotiation table—silence.

Gu Xinghe did not avoid that gaze. He placed both hands flat on the table and leaned his body slightly forward, like a leopard ready to pounce.

Finally, Shoigu spoke:

”CEO Gu, Russia needs Xingchen’s military technology. In three directions.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but every word was like a nail being driven into a wooden board.

”First, allow Xingchen to acquire partial equity in Russian military enterprises—the Kazan Helicopter Plant and Uralvagonzavod.”

He paused.

”Second, joint development of the next-generation fighter jet—Sukhoi Design Bureau plus MiG Design Bureau plus Xingchen Defense.”

”Third, procurement of Xingchen’s active-duty equipment—Lynx V-25 Infantry Fighting Vehicles, sabertooth hx-30 main battle tanks, Peregrine Falcon air defense systems, comet air-to-air missiles, and war mastiff robot dogs.”

After he finished, he leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands on the table.

Waiting for a response.

Gu Xinghe did not answer immediately. He opened the folder in front of him, looked at it for three seconds, and then closed it.

”Minister Shoigu, I will respond to each one.”

His voice was steady, as if reporting the weather.

”First, acquisition is possible. But Xingchen’s stake needs to exceed 51%, and management rights belong to Xingchen. The original management can remain, but major decisions require Xingchen’s approval.”

Shoigu’s brow furrowed slightly.

”Second, joint development is possible. But core avionics, radar, and AI systems will be led by Xingchen. Russia will be responsible for aerodynamic design, structural strength, and power systems.”

Shoigu’s brow furrowed deeper.

”Third, equipment can be sold. But all exports must be approved by the Chinese government. Xingchen does not sell offensive weapons to conflict zones.”

After Gu Xinghe finished speaking, he also leaned back in his chair.

The two looked at each other.

The room was so quiet that the sound of the second hand on the antique wall clock could be heard.

Shoigu spoke, his voice even lower than before:

”CEO Gu, are you trying to control the Russian military industry?”

His gaze became sharp, like a reconnaissance before an impending charge.

Gu Xinghe did not flinch. He looked directly into Shoigu’s eyes:

”No. It’s about establishing common standards.”

He stood up, walked to the window, and pointed outside.

”Minister Shoigu, do you see that river?”

Shoigu did not turn his head.

Gu Xinghe continued:

”The Moskva River. It flows through this city, joins the Volga River, and finally flows into the Caspian Sea. The cities, factories, and farmlands along the way all rely on it for connection.”

He turned to face Shoigu:

”Future warfare is also a river. Ammunition, data, maintenance, and command must all flow smoothly. If our two militaries’ equipment has incompatible ammunition, non-integrated data links, and non-shared maintenance systems, then they are two separate rivers that cannot flow together.”

He walked back to his seat:

”What I want is not to control the Russian military industry. What I want is—in the future, our tanks can use your fuel. Your planes can carry our missiles. Our command system can receive your data. This is true strategic collaboration.”

He paused:

”If Russia just buys equipment, it’s just an ordinary customer. If Russia is willing to build a system with us, it’s a strategic partner.”

Shoigu fell silent.

He turned to look at the other end of the long table.

Vladimir Sergeyevich had been sitting there the whole time, not interrupting, just listening quietly.

At this moment, he spoke slowly:

”Shoigu, CEO Gu is right.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but every word carried weight.

”We aren’t here to buy things. We’re here to build a system.”

He looked at Su Chen:

”Mr. Su, is this your intention?”

Su Chen nodded:

”Future warfare is not one nation against another. It’s one system against another system. The systems of China and Russia should be compatible.”

Vladimir Sergeyevich stood up.

He walked to the window, and with his back to everyone, he looked at the Moskva River outside.

The sun was setting, and the river’s surface was dyed golden-red.

He was silent for a full thirty seconds.

Then he turned around.

”Based on those words alone, I agree to this round of negotiations.”

Shoigu was stunned: ”President...”

Vladimir Sergeyevich raised his hand, a small movement, but it carried unquestionable authority.

”Shoigu, do you think I don’t know what you’re thinking?”

He walked back to his seat and sat down: ”You want to preserve the independence of the Russian military industry. You want to research, produce, and have the final say yourself.”

He looked directly into Shoigu’s eyes: ”But the prerequisite for independence is being alive.”

”Without cooperation, how many years can we survive? Five? Ten? And then be left twenty years behind by Xingchen and the West. By then, if we want to cooperate, they won’t even include us in the game.”

He paused: ”By cooperating now, we can still get a seat at the table. If we don’t, we can only watch others eat.”

Shoigu fell silent.

He looked down at the documents in front of him, the clauses crawling before his eyes like ants.

Five seconds.

Ten seconds.

Twenty seconds.

Finally, he looked up: ”I agree.”

His voice was very soft, but in this quiet room, everyone heard him clearly.

The corners of Vladimir Sergeyevich’s mouth curled up slightly before he returned to a calm expression.

”Then let’s sign.”

The sunlight filtered through the window, casting golden spots on the eight agreements.

Outside, the Moskva River continued to flow quietly.

Flowing toward the Caspian Sea.

Flowing toward places even further away.