Official title: Refused to stay at the university, started his career in a rural town.

After leaving Liu Xiangdong's office, Yang Fan was still thinking about the mobile phone.

Operators, base stations, patents.

After a long talk with his senior, Liu Xiangdong, Liu agreed with his assessment and supported him in pursuing the development of PHS phones.

Before his head came out, he was still teasing him.

"You little rascal, you've gone back to fleece the professor again."

"What do you mean by 'wool-pulling'? I need to go back and learn!"

Yang Fan took leave from the county government and had his office book the earliest train ticket to Jingzhou.

It was afternoon when Yang Fan arrived in Jingzhou. The sycamore leaves at the school gate were just beginning to turn yellow. He bought a box of milk and a bag of oranges from a fruit stand and carried them toward the office building.

The door to Su Huaishan's office was ajar. Yang Fan was about to knock when he heard voices coming from inside.

"I've checked the data for this coefficient of thermal expansion curve; all three sets of samples match perfectly. If this isn't a problem with the material itself, what else could it be?"

It was Wang Minhua's voice; her voice wasn't loud, but every word was delivered firmly.

"At this materials science conference, I must say, and I must make it clear to everyone, that this thing is unusable!"

Yang Fan pushed open the door and entered. Su Huaishan was sitting behind his desk, and Wang Minhua was sitting on the sofa with several charts spread out on the coffee table in front of them. The two of them looked up at the same time.

Su Huaishan took off his reading glasses and smirked. "Hey, Lao Wang, look, our street thug from Handong University is here again."

Wang Minhua pushed the chart aside, glanced at the carton of milk and the bag of oranges in Yang Fan's hand, and chuckled. "Little Yang, last time it was delicacies from Qingping, this time it's oranges from the stall at the entrance—your standards have been downgraded."

Yang Fan placed the items on the side of the coffee table and rubbed his hands together. "Professor, it's not about the price of the items, but about the thought that you two are on my mind."

"Stop pretending." Su Huaishan tapped him with his pen. "Last time you said you were just coming back for a visit, and then you had Professor Fang write your thesis. This time it's just another 'visit'? Tell me, which professor have you set your sights on this time!"

Yang Fan stood in front of the two men, so embarrassed by their teasing that he scratched his toes. If the teasing had continued any longer, he might have managed to dig out a three-bedroom apartment.

Wang Minhua leaned back on the sofa, a smile on her face, but her tone was indifferent. "Go ahead and speak, as long as it's not something illegal."

Yang Fan sat down on the sofa and briefly mentioned the withdrawal of investment from Shunfa Textile in Ninghe County. Then, he changed the subject and talked about industrial upgrading, mentioning Xiaolingtong (a type of mobile phone).

"They've already brought PHS technology from Japan over the Han River. The terminals are cheap, and the tariffs are only a third of those for mobile phones. If Ninghe could attract a terminal manufacturing company, we could establish the foundation for an electronics industrial park—"

"You want the school to help you research this thing?" Su Huaishan interrupted him.

"It's not about helping me, it's about helping our country." Yang Fan leaned forward slightly.

"Let me tell you something. The PHS technology currently used by Xiaolingtong (a type of mobile phone service) is from Japan, and they hold all the core patents. Communication chips, protocol stack software, base station control—we have to pay patent fees to them for each of these three things. Patent fees can account for 20% to 30% of a single Xiaolingtong phone."

Wang Minhua's eyebrows twitched slightly.

"But Xiaolingtong hasn't been rolled out nationwide yet." Yang Fan lowered his voice and spoke faster. "If our school can develop the chip design and protocol stack before then—even if it's just a prototype—then when Xiaolingtong really becomes popular, those terminal manufacturers will have to buy technology and licenses from us."

"By then, with the school holding a bunch of patents, our industrial park won't be filled with production lines that others have discarded."

"Most importantly, this way we won't have to let Japan earn our precious foreign exchange!"

The office was silent for a few seconds.

Su Huaishan took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with the corner of his shirt. Wang Minhua picked up her teacup, but didn't drink from it, and put it down again.

"How long have you been researching this industry?" Wang Minhua asked.

"When I was sorting out the industrial base in the county, I went through some materials and read some of the latest journals."

Su Huaishan put his glasses back on and stared at Yang Fan for two seconds. "Do you know what expertise Handong University has in wireless communication?"

Yang Fan did not respond.

"No," Su Huaishan answered himself. "Old Sun from the Communications Institute did work on it, but his focus was on military applications."

Wang Minhua stood up, walked to the window, and stood still.

"I know about PHS. I went to a conference in Japan last year, and NTT people showed me their base station equipment." He paused, "Their technical foundation is solid. But the problem you mentioned exists—the patent fees are not low."

"And the operators also bear a heavy burden," Yang Fan added.

"PHS base stations only have a coverage radius of a few hundred meters. To cover an entire city, the number of base stations would need to be several times that of mobile phone base stations, and maintenance costs would increase exponentially. Operators are currently in an ambiguous position—if they push it out, the return on investment is disproportionate; if they don't, the public really needs cheap wireless calls."

Su Huaishan picked up his teacup and blew away the tea leaves. "So how do you plan to solve the problem with the telecom operators? If they don't build base stations, no matter how many PHS phones you produce, they're just scrap metal."

"We can't rely on the operators to do this all by themselves," Yang Fan said, stubbing his cigarette into the ashtray.

"The county level is the most suitable starting point—first deploy a batch of facilities in key urban areas such as the administrative center, hospitals, and train stations, with operators contributing part of the funding, the county contributing part, and enterprises covering the remaining portion."

"With the 'three-three system,' the base station density is insufficient, and the signal will indeed be poor—but PHS was originally intended to supplement landline phones, not replace mobile phones, so there's no need to deploy base stations all over the mountains in the early stages."

Wang Minhua and Su Huaishan exchanged a glance.

"Did you come up with this yourself?" Wang Minhua asked.

"When Qingping was developing its fruit-picking area, three forces worked together," Yang Fan nodded. "The government provided the platform, businesses performed the show, and schools supported us in developing the technology."

Su Huaishan nearly spat out his tea with a chuckle. "You're quite the impolite one."

Wang Minhua didn't laugh. He sat back on the sofa and tapped his fingers twice on his knee.

"Old Wang, what this kid said is indeed quite important. We need to get Professor Sun Jiapei to listen to it on the communications side." Su Huaishan turned to look at Yang Fan. "Don't rush off. I'll have someone call Professor Sun. If he thinks it's worthwhile, we'll discuss it further."

Su Huaishan picked up the landline on the table and dialed a number. "Old Sun, come to my office. Yes, now."

After hanging up the phone, he glanced at Yang Fan. "Don't cry if Lao Sun says it's hopeless."

Yang Fan didn't reply, but just rubbed his hands together again. The bag of oranges on the coffee table was being dried by the sun outside the window, and the light on the orange peels shimmered.

Footsteps came from the stairwell, unhurried, leather shoes clicking on the terrazzo floor, getting closer and closer.