Returning to 1949, I decided to hand it over to the state.

It really was news from the south!

Although Jiang Fan had imagined countless times the scene of good news coming from the front line, he never expected that the other party would actually call him directly.

After all, as a person from later generations, he had already subconsciously come to believe that there were no mobile phones in 1949, and for a moment he even forgot about the existence of this old-fashioned hand-cranked dial telephone.

But he quickly followed He Xiying's instructions, taking three steps at a time, grabbing the receiver and pressing it tightly to his ear:

"Hey? Hello, can you hear me?"

There was a burst of static on the other end of the phone, which made Jiang Fan subconsciously turn his head.

Immediately afterwards, a very stiff Chinese voice came through:

"Heave-ho... Can you hear me...? I want to buy your weapons, is that alright?"

"However, my Chinese... isn't very good, please forgive me."

Foreigners?!

Just by listening to that accented and awkward intonation, you can tell he's a genuine foreigner.

Jiang Fan immediately looked up at He Xiying.

At this moment, He Xiying was staring at him intently. When she saw him looking over, she nodded, her lips moving silently.

"Hold on!"

Jiang Fan understood immediately, suppressing his surprise and adopting a calm tone, speaking fluent English into the microphone:

"Of course, sir."

"But please allow me to confirm first, are you inquiring about the procurement of the Dongfeng-01 missile?"

Upon hearing that Jiang Fan could speak fluent and authentic English, the person on the other end of the phone visibly breathed a long sigh of relief.

The harsh Chinese accent vanished instantly, replaced by fluent English:

"Oh God, thank goodness! Finally, someone can communicate with me in English. Thank you so much, sir!"

"Please forgive my abrupt use of Chinese just now; I simply wanted to express my utmost sincerity."

"Let me introduce myself first. My name is Guilliman, and I am a South African businessman in China. I am indeed very interested in the Dongfeng-01 missiles produced by your factory and would like to learn more about the specific procurement methods and prices."

A South African businessman?

Upon hearing this, Jiang Fan was secretly astonished.

In 1949, South Africa was still under the harsh rule of a colonial regime.

How could a foreigner come to China to do arms business under such extreme social conditions?

How extraordinary must one possess to achieve that?

But this also shows that this person's background is definitely not simple.

Therefore, Jiang Fan wisely refrained from probing the other party's background and went straight to the point:

"Hello Mr. Guilliman, my name is Jiang Fan, it's an honor to receive your call."

"Regarding the Dongfeng-01, what is your expected purchase price?"

Although Jiang Fan hadn't done any big business deals, he had certainly bargained before.

He was a master of negotiation: letting the other party make their move first was always the safest approach.

Once the opponent reveals their hand, the initiative is firmly in your hands.

However, Guilliman, who was able to transnational arms dealing, was obviously a seasoned veteran, and he could easily see through Jiang Fan's little tricks.

A soft chuckle came from the other end of the phone, followed by a slow and deliberate reply:

"Mr. Jiang, you are the seller and I am the buyer. Shouldn't you first provide a fair price so that we can continue our negotiations?"

That old black guy is pretty cunning.

Since that's the case, Jiang Fan decided to cut to the chase and get straight to the point:

"Mr. Guilliman, since we are all honest people, beating around the bush is just a waste of time."

"My target price for the Dongfeng-01 is £5 per missile."

"However, I have one hard condition: you must tell me where this shipment is ultimately going and who the buyer is. If it's being done for Americans, then our cooperation can only end here."

There was a two or three-second silence on the other end of the phone, followed by Guilliman's laughter, which was clearly tinged with contempt.

"Hehehe... Mr. Jiang, please rest assured on this point."

"As for my client information, I really cannot disclose it to you due to business confidentiality principles."

"But I can swear that every shell I sell will eventually land squarely on the heads of Americans and their allies. You can absolutely trust that."

Hearing this promise, Jiang Fan had a general idea of ​​what was going on.

It seems that the final destination of this batch of goods was most likely the Middle East, where they were sold to the Arab coalition forces that are currently locked in a fierce battle with Israel.

Now that political concerns are no longer an issue, the next step is a real price negotiation.

Just as Jiang Fan was about to stick to his price and refuse to budge, he heard a hint of difficulty in Guilliman's tone:

"However, Mr. Jiang, five pounds a piece is far too expensive."

"Based on the current gold price in the London market, £5 is roughly equivalent to nearly 20 grams of gold."

"You should know that at this price point on the current international arms market, you can buy a lot of obsolete regular military mortar shells from Europe."

"While your product is slightly more powerful than theirs, it lacks a comprehensive after-sales support system. Perhaps this pricing is unreasonable?"

20 grams of gold?!

Jiang Fan's heart skipped a beat.

Although he knew from his research that the pound sterling was a hard international currency for a long time after World War II, he never imagined that the pound sterling would be so valuable at this time.

£5 can be exchanged for 20 grams of gold!

That price is indeed quite high.

However, in the business world, there is no reason to lower your prices just because you have a high price; you must slowly test the other party's bottom line.

Jiang Fan quickly regained his composure and earnestly advised:

"Mr. Guilliman, gold is certainly valuable in times of peace and prosperity."

"But this is wartime, a battlefield like a meat grinder. A shell that can blow up an enemy building and bunker is much more useful than 20 grams of gold that you can't eat or drink."

"Money can be earned back, but if you lose your life, you lose everything. What do you think?"

But Guilliman, a seasoned arms dealer, was not buying Jiang Fan's empty promises and insisted:

"Mr. Jiang, I understand your point of view very well. But I am, after all, a businessman, and I must consider sufficient profit margins."

"To be honest, I need a very large quantity of this goods. If I don't lower the unit price, I simply won't be able to establish a transportation network. I'm approaching you with the utmost sincerity and hope you can offer a competitive price."

A large quantity? How large could it be?

Jiang Fan's eyes darted around, and he quickly started making plans in his mind.

Putting everything else aside, the manufacturing cost of this broken gas cylinder is less than a shilling; it's just sheet metal with a little homemade explosive.

If the other party wants a really large quantity, and you follow the strategy of low profit and high volume, then you will definitely make a fortune.

So he immediately turned his head, covered the microphone with his palm, and quickly reported to He Xiying beside him in a low voice:

"Factory manager, the foreign client is trying to lower the price, but he promised a very large quantity. What do you think is our bottom line?"

Standing to the side, He Xiying had already guessed the gist of the previous conversation from Jiang Fan's expression and snippets of conversation.

He was both surprised and delighted. He never dreamed that the tin can he had casually welded could be associated with gold.

Moreover, he knew exactly what the cost of this thing was; compared to gold, it was practically zero cost.

He forcefully suppressed his pounding heart, made a gesture towards Jiang Fan, and said:

"You have full authority to make decisions and take control, as long as you don't lose money."

As long as I don't lose money, it's fine?

That would be fantastic!

With the factory director's highest authorization, Jiang Fan felt completely confident.

He removed his hand from the microphone, returned to the call, and his tone conveyed a resolute determination born of painful reluctance:

"Alright, Mr. Guilliman, considering your sincerity and our desire to be long-term friends, let's compromise."

"3 pounds a piece, that's my absolute bottom line."

As soon as he finished speaking, Guilliman on the other end of the phone replied almost without hesitation:

"No, Mr. Jiang, two pounds a piece."

"I want a thousand!"