Live Stream 1980: Netizens Teach Me How to Make a Rocket by Hand

Guangzhou Liuhua Road Exhibition Hall, International Long-Distance Travel Zone.

Hans practically rammed into the room, his hands trembling as he dialed the overseas number.

"Frankfurt pick-up! Urgent! Quick!"

The brief dial tone, lasting only a dozen seconds, sounded like an eternity to this burly German man.

His shirt was soaked through and clung tightly to his back; it was cold sweat from being frightened.

What he just witnessed in the exhibition hall was like a heavy hammer blow, shattering all his professional pride.

"This is the Polish technical department," came the lazy German voice from the receiver.

"I am Hans!"

"I need to speak with the CEO! Immediately!"

Hans roared into the microphone, his voice cracking with extreme excitement.

After several twists and turns, the president's displeased voice finally came from the other end:

"Hans, you'd better have a reason to explain your outburst."

"Is it because Chinese rice wine is so delicious?"

"Boss, I saw God..."

"No, it's a machine created by Satan!"

Hans held the microphone, his teeth chattering.

"Calm down, did the Chinese build a flying saucer?"

"Or did you rub a giant out of the magic lamp?" the president asked, still with a mocking tone.

"It's even more terrifying than that!"

Hans stared intently at the direction beast of Hall C in the distance.

"They created a miniature motor that can rotate at 12000 revolutions per minute!"

"And there's also 0.04 mm electroformed blade mesh!"

"That's because our lab is still just fantasizing on blueprints..."

"No, it was preliminary research! They've built a physical prototype!"

There was a three-second silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a sneer:

"Hans, are you out of your mind because of the heat?"

"This is a plot from a science fiction novel."

"Damn it! I touched it with my own hands! It's real!"

Hans's veins bulged, and he growled in a low voice, each word seeming to be squeezed out from between his teeth:

"What's worse, that cunning Van der Sar, Philip, was also there!"

"If we don't acquire this technology, Polan will be nothing but scrap metal in a junkyard within next year!"

"It will be swept into the dustbin of history like trash!"

The laughter from across the ocean abruptly ceased.

Instead, there was a deathly silence, followed by rapid breathing and the sound of documents being turned over.

Half a minute later, the CEO's cold and authoritative voice rang out:

"Hans, I don't care what method you use."

"Buy it outright, steal it, or bring that Chinese man back."

"What's the bottom line?" Hans swallowed hard.

"If it's true... there's no bottom line."

The CEO's voice carried a chilling murderous intent:

"If we still can't get it at all costs..."

"You don't need to go back to Germany, just jump into the Pearl River and feed the fish."

Click.

A busy signal came through.

Hans slumped against the scorching glass wall, panting heavily.

Through the reflection in the glass, he saw Van der Sar walking out from the other side not far away, his face equally pale.

Their eyes met in mid-air.

Just moments ago they were allies joking with each other, but in the face of absolute interests, they instantly became mortal enemies.

To survive, it's a fight to the death.

……

Inside the exhibition hall, the Seventh Ministry of Machinery Industry's booth.

Although the crowd dispersed, the lingering feeling of "something big had happened" still lingered in the air.

Lin Xi sat behind the counter, seemingly resting with her eyes closed, but in reality, the live stream chat in front of her was flooded with comments.

[It's here! A classic business spy drama!]

Those two foreigners ran faster than rabbits; they must have gone to call for backup!

What does the anchor say about this? Is it a sale to Paulaner or Philippe?

[Selling? The streamer is definitely up to no good! Stay tuned for the next installment!]

Just then, a hairy hand silently reached into the counter.

While flipping through the fan's instruction manual, a gold-embossed business card was slipped under the product brochure.

Lin Xi didn't even lift her eyelids.

Hans, with his back to Section Chief Wang, spoke urgently in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"Tonight at 8 PM, Taipingguan Western Restaurant."

"Just the two of us, don't bring anyone else. We have a big deal."

After saying that, without waiting for Lin Xi's reaction, he turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

Lin Xi picked up the card with two fingers, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"The fish has taken the bait."

……

Night falls at Taiping Restaurant in Guangzhou.

This was probably the closest place in Guangzhou in the 80s to the luxurious lifestyle of the West.

The dim crystal chandelier, the deep red velvet curtains, and the aroma of buttered steak and money filled the air.

Section Chief Wang, dressed in a suit, sat next to Lin Xi, feeling extremely uncomfortable.

Looking at a dish on the menu that costs tens of dollars, he felt his heart clench.

"Manager Lin, this...this is too extravagant!"

Section Chief Wang muttered to himself, his palms sweating, "This meal is going to cost me half a year's salary."

"Don't worry, someone's paying." Lin Xi slowly cut the "Prime Minister's Steak" in front of him.

On the other side, Hans had long lost the arrogance he had during the day.

He poured Lin Xi an expensive glass of French red wine with great care, his wrinkles swaying as he smiled like a blooming chrysanthemum.

"Mr. Lin, is this beef to your liking?" Hans raised his glass.

"Cheers to our great friendship that is about to begin!"

Lin Xi didn't touch the glass, but just looked at him quietly, her eyes so clear that they made Hans feel uneasy.

"Mr. Hans, my time is very precious."

"Since you say you have a big deal, let's stop beating around the bush and just name your price."

Hans's smile froze; he hadn't expected this young Chinese man to be so unpredictable.

He put down his wine glass, took a deep breath, took out a pre-filled check from his briefcase, and pushed it in front of Lin Xi.

"Great! I love dealing with smart people."

Hans's eyes sharpened, revealing his true intentions.

"The Polan Group is very interested in the technology behind your 'Cyclone' shaver."

"Especially the motor and blade manufacturing processes."

"It's a number." Hans held up one finger.

One million US dollars.

"We'll buy out all your technical drawings and patent rights."

Clang!

Section Chief Wang's hand trembled, and his fork fell onto the plate with a crisp sound.

One million! And in US dollars!

In an era where even those with ten thousand yuan can walk with impunity, this is an astronomical figure that is enough to take one's breath away!

Hans noticed Section Chief Wang's loss of composure, and a barely perceptible hint of contempt flashed in his eyes.

Indeed, no Chinese person doesn't love money.

They're just a bunch of country bumpkins who've never seen the world; just bury them in money.

"And," Hans lowered his voice, his tone full of seduction.

"This money can be transferred to a private account at a Swiss bank, and it will be completely untraceable."

"Mr. Lin, as long as you nod, you can live like a king in any country in the world."

Luxury cars, mansions, beautiful women... everything you could want.

The live stream chat exploded instantly, with the screen filled with exclamation marks.

Holy crap! A sugar-coated bullet!

Is this the corrosive effect of capitalism? It's terrifying! I definitely couldn't withstand it!

[Wake up, upstairs! Buying out a monopolistic technology for the next few decades for a million dollars? That's like throwing money at a beggar!]

If the streamer agrees, I'll unfollow them on the spot!

This is our Brother Lin! Do you think he'd even look at these paltry sums?

Lin Xi didn't even glance at the check, and didn't even falter in her rhythm of cutting the steak.

He elegantly forked a piece of beef and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly and carefully.

Hans's expression shifted from smugness to confusion, then to anxiety, and finally, fine beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead.

"One million?"

Lin Xi finally swallowed the beef, picked up a napkin to wipe her mouth, and said in a flat tone:

"Mr. Hans, are you insulting me?"

"Is this another insult to the Polan Group's judgment?"

"Or do you think that the wisdom of the Chinese people is only worth this much money?"

"Mr. Lin, don't be too greedy."

Hans's face darkened, and his tone became threatening.

"This is already an astronomical price."

"How much foreign exchange reserves does your country, China, currently have?"

"This money is enough to buy ten small factories like yours!"

"The affairs of the nation are our affairs." Lin Xi put down his knife and fork and leaned forward slightly.

An invisible sense of oppression instantly enveloped the dining table, and the gentle and refined young man's eyes were now sharp as knives.

"As for the technology..."

Lin Xi tapped her fingers lightly on the table, speaking slowly and deliberately, her voice soft yet resonant like thunder:

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hans."

"All of Red Star's core technologies belong to the Seventh Ministry of Machinery Industry and are classified as top secrets of the state."

He gave a polite but distant smile:

"We only rent, we don't sell."