Telephone Appointment

Chapter 152 Telephone Appointment

The phone rang twice, then I answered it.

"President Lin," Chen Wei'an's voice came through the receiver, crisp and clear, "It's rare for you to call me first. What happened?"

Lin Dong leaned back in his chair: "Can't we fight if there's nothing wrong?"

"Yes, I can," Chen Wei'an smiled, "but you're not that kind of person."

Lin Dong didn't respond to that question: "How's it going over there?"

"It's going well," Chen Wei'an said. "Business is progressing smoothly, the cooperation with the Rossi family is stable, and Jackson has been a great help. I'll send the financial statements to Uncle Cai later."

"Okay," Lin Dong said. "You're in charge of all the business over there. Spend the money you need to spend, don't try to save any for me. Leave the profits there, don't transfer them back."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

Lin Dong felt happy; he trusted her and had entrusted the entire North America to her.

But the disappointment was also a disappointment, which meant that the better she did, the harder it would be for her to leave San Francisco.

She probably didn't even figure it out herself—whether she was more happy or more disappointed.

"Okay," she said, her voice a little softer than usual. "I'll handle it."

Lin Dong didn't linger on the topic: "I called Anderson today. He has the goods, but there are too many for us to handle."

"How much?" Chen Wei'an asked.

"One hundred million."

Chen Wei'an didn't exclaim or hesitate; she simply asked, "So, what are the arrangements, Mr. Lin?"

"Could you contact Wu Ming for me? Arrange a time to meet," Lin Dong said. "As for Jamal, give me his contact information, and I'll call him myself."

"Okay," Chen Wei'an said. "I've contacted Wu Ming and will call you. I'll send you Jamal's contact information after I hang up."

Lin Dong thought for a moment and then said, "I'm not going to San Francisco this time. Please keep an eye on the goods over there."

""

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

"Okay," Chen Wei'an said. "Yes, Mr. Lin, I'll handle it."

The voice was the same, the tone was the same, but Lin Dong sensed something different.

He didn't say anything.

"Okay then. Send me Jamal's contact information first, and I'll call them."

"it is good."

It's over.

Chen Wei'an sent a text message with a phone number and the following line: Jamal, Head of Projects at Gulf Capital. We've kept in touch since the last transaction; there shouldn't be any problems.

After reading it, Lin Dong dialed the number.

It rang a few times, then I answered.

"Mr. Jamal, I am Lin Dong," Lin Dong said.

Jamal's voice came through the receiver, in English with a Middle Eastern accent: "Mr. Lin, it's been a long time."

"haven't seen you for a long time"

Jamal's tone was polite but not warm, consistent with his usual style: "Mr. Lin, what's the matter that you're calling about?"

"We have a shipment," Lin Dong said. "More than last time."

Jamal didn't ask about the quantity or the price, he only asked, "What specifications?"

"Same as last time. The strategic part will still follow the same plan as last time," Lin Dong said.

Jamal was silent for two seconds.

They acquired 35% of the last batch of strategic materials, and the quality exceeded expectations, with smooth distribution channels. There's no reason to refuse this renewed cooperation.

"Okay," Jamal said. "How much?"

Lin Dong reported the numbers and explained the allocation plan.

Similar to last time, Jamal took the lion's share, Lin Dong took a portion, and Wu Ming handled the rest.

Jamal listened without hesitation: "Okay. The specific plan, will it be the same as last time?"

"Yes," Lin Dong said, "but I'm not going to San Francisco this time. I'll leave the security to Chen Wei. You can just send someone over to coordinate."

"No problem," Jamal said. "I'll arrange it."

We chatted for a few more minutes, confirmed the time and process, and then hung up.

Lin Dong placed his phone on the table, a slight smile curving his lips.

Jamal is all set; this shipment is at least 80% sorted out.

Even if the rest are sold as loose stock, they won't have trouble selling; it's just a matter of time.

However, since the last collaboration went quite well, I still need to give Wu Ming a heads-up.

As he was thinking, his phone vibrated again. It was a message from Chen Wei'an: Wu Ming has been contacted. His assistant relayed that Mr. Wu is also in Shenzhen and asked if he had time to have lunch together.

Lin Dong glanced at the time; it was 10:30.

There's enough time at noon.

He replied with two words: "Okay."

He sent another message: "Give me Wu Ming's phone number."

Chen Wei'an replied with a string of numbers instantly.

Lin Dong dialed the number.

It rang a few times, then I answered.

"Mr. Wu, I am Lin Dong," Lin Dong said.

"Hey, Brother Lin!" Wu Ming's voice came through the receiver, carrying the warmth characteristic of an old-fashioned businessman. "Long time no see! What made you think of calling me?"

Lin Dong leaned back in his chair: "Brother Wu, are you in Shenzhen?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Wu Ming said with a smile. "I just arrived last night to inspect a few projects. You're really well-informed."

"Vivian told me," Lin Dong said. "Why didn't Brother Wu call me when he came to Shenzhen? He could at least have shown me some hospitality."

"Oh, you're busy," Wu Ming said. "I heard your company is doing very well, and I didn't want to bother you."

"No matter how busy I am, I can still find time for a meal," Lin Dong said. "Brother Wu, are you free at noon? I'd like to treat you to lunch."

"I'm free, I'm free." Wu Ming smiled. "You decide on the place."

"Okay, see you in a bit."

At noon, Lin Dong arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early. When Wu Ming arrived, he was wearing a dark gray casual suit without a tie, and seemed much more relaxed than when they last met in San Francisco.

"Brother Lin!" Wu Ming strode over, extending his hand. "Long time no see, you look much better."

Lin Dong shook hands: "Brother Wu looks quite well too."

The two sat down. The waiter brought tea, and Wu Ming took a sip, looking around. "Shenzhen is really changing every day. The last time I was here was a year ago, and it's changed again this time."

"Brother Wu, what projects are you looking at in Shenzhen this time?" Lin Dong poured him tea.

"I'm looking at everything," Wu Ming said. "Real estate, technology, logistics—Shenzhen is developing so fast. I think it will become one of the country's economic centers in the future." He paused, then remarked, "This city has potential."

Lin Dong's heart skipped a beat. As expected of a seasoned businessman, such foresight. No wonder he was able to capitalize on the first wave of the aluminum market boom in his previous life.

"Brother Wu, you have a keen eye." Lin Dong picked up his teacup. "If you have any good projects, remember me!"

Wu Ming looked at him and smiled, a smile that held a deeper meaning: "Brother Lin, you know what, I actually came to Shenzhen this time and found a project that I've taken a liking to."

Lin Dong raised an eyebrow: "Oh? Tell me about it."

"The tech atmosphere in Shenzhen is getting stronger and stronger," Wu Ming said, putting down his teacup. "Especially the mobile phone industry, which is developing very rapidly. I took a walk around and found more than a dozen mobile phone companies, big and small."

"Shenzhen mobile phones are pretty good," Lin Dong said. "Brother Wu, which one do you think is the best?"

Wu Ming looked at him with a hint of a smile in his eyes and said slowly, "I have my eye on a company called Oriental Technology."

Lin Dong paused slightly as he held the teacup.

He lowered his eyelids, took a sip of tea, his face expressionless, but inwardly he cursed the old fox.

"Brother Wu, you're joking." Lin Dong put down his teacup. "Isn't that my company?"

Wu Ming smiled, a smile that held a hint of probing, yet also a touch of seriousness: "Yes, Brother Lin. I've done some research on the mobile phone business in Shenzhen—most of them are just copying foreign designs, and knock-off phones are everywhere."

I've made some inquiries, and it seems like you're the only one working on something new.

Lin Dong didn't respond.

He knew perfectly well how Wu Ming knew.

It wasn't leaked by his own employees, but the supply chain can't hide it. He's purchased so many things—screens, batteries, chips—if someone's willing to investigate, they'll always find clues. This old fox, he's really thorough in his investigations.

"Brother Lin," Wu Ming leaned forward, "have you considered financing? Or rather, investing?"

Lin Dong's gaze softened. So that's what he was planning.

"It's a small business," Lin Dong said. "I haven't thought that far ahead about financing."

Wu Ming smiled and began to discuss terms.

They talked about his resources, his channels, and how he could help Lin Dong open up the market in Hong Kong.

Every suggestion sounds tempting, and every suggestion makes sense.

Lin Dong refused them one by one, neither hastily nor aggressively.

He didn't want anyone to invest in his company. He wanted to be in complete control, and he wouldn't agree to any conditions Wu Ming offered.

The company isn't in a situation where it absolutely needs financing; if it did, trouble would ensue. Money can save lives, but it can also turn someone into a puppet. That's not what he wants. Besides, another batch of aluminum is about to be ordered, so there's absolutely no need to worry about funding.

After speaking for a while, Wu Ming saw that Lin Dong remained unmoved, and the smile on his face slowly faded. He looked at Lin Dong, his gaze changing, as if he were re-evaluating the man.

"Brother Lin," Wu Ming's voice lowered, carrying a hint of something else, "you know, I still have some connections in Hong Kong. To make the mobile phone business truly successful, relying solely on the mainland market isn't enough."

Lin Dong understood the implication. It wasn't a request for cooperation; it was a threat.

He picked up his teacup, took a slow sip, then put it down, looking at Wu Ming with no change in his expression: "Brother Wu, Jamal has already taken care of the aluminum. I came here today to talk to you about this batch of goods."

Wu Ming was taken aback. He looked at Lin Dong for a few seconds, then smiled. His smile held a hint of helplessness, but also a touch of admiration. This young man was unyielding; he was no pushover.

"Okay." Wu Ming picked up his teacup and clinked it against Lin Dong's. "Let's make money together. I have no problem with the aluminum."

Lin Dong nodded. He knew Wu Ming had compromised.

There's nothing we can do about him, and we don't want to break ties, so we'll give him face and not make things difficult for everyone.

He also understood—it didn't matter if they couldn't secure funding, as Shenzhen had more than just Oriental Technology as a mobile phone company.

Wu Ming simply had faith in him and wanted to build a good relationship, hoping for another opportunity. Just like this aluminum transaction, didn't he also approach Wu Ming, with whom he had a good previous collaboration?

"Then it's settled," Lin Dong said. "The plan remains the same. I'll let you know when the goods arrive."

"Alright." Wu Ming raised his teacup. "It's a pleasure doing business with you."

The two touched hands and drank tea.

The atmosphere warmed up again.

Wu Ming started chatting about interesting things in Hong Kong, with Lin Dong occasionally chiming in. The two became fast friends, talking animatedly. Dishes were served one after another, and the wine was opened. Wu Ming's face flushed slightly, and he became more talkative.

"Brother Lin," Wu Ming said, holding his wine glass, his tongue a little thick, "let me tell you, my daughter just came back from England this year. She's studying finance. She's beautiful and smart. Whenever she goes to Hong Kong, I'll introduce you two."

Lin Dong's lips twitched. This old bastard was trying to take advantage of him.

"Brother Wu," Lin Dong raised his glass, "let's drink."

Wu Ming laughed heartily, didn't mention his daughter again, clinked glasses, and downed his drink in one gulp.

After finishing their meal, the two stood at the restaurant entrance. Wu Ming patted Lin Dong on the shoulder: "Brother Lin, next time you go to Hong Kong, be sure to give me a call."

"Definitely," Lin Dong said.

Wu Ming's car merged into the traffic, its taillights flashing twice in the afternoon sunlight, then turned the corner and disappeared.

Lin Dong stood at the restaurant entrance, his hands in his pockets.

The April wind blows, neither too hot nor too cold, carrying a bit of dampness; it comes from across the sea.

Wu Ming's last words sounded like a casual remark—his daughter had returned from England and was studying finance. But Lin Dong knew that this old fox wouldn't say anything useless.

It wasn't a genuine attempt to introduce his daughter; it was a way of conveying a message. At this stage of business, profit alone wasn't enough; personal connections had to be added.

The daughter is just a pretext; the real reason is to show affection.

He looked away, opened the car door, and got in.

Zheng Hao glanced at him in the rearview mirror: "Brother Dong, shall we go back to the company?"

"Go back.

""

The car drove out of the parking lot and merged into the main road.

Lin Dong leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

Jamal is all set, Wu Ming is all set, we're waiting for news from Anderson.

Once the goods arrive, sell them, and you'll have money in your account.

Before the press conference, funding shouldn't be a problem. But the problem now is—distribution channels. After the press conference, where will the phones be sold? Who will sell them? He recalled what Wu Ming had just said—

"The technological atmosphere in Shenzhen is becoming increasingly strong."

That old fox wasn't looking at phones; he was looking at the market.

What he saw wasn't a mobile phone, but a distribution channel.

He opened his eyes: "Ah Hao, go to Huaqiangbei."

Zheng Hao paused for a moment, then glanced at him in the rearview mirror: "Huaqiangbei?"

"Um.

"6

Zheng Hao didn't ask any more questions, turned the steering wheel, and took another road.

I went to Lindong in Huaqiangbei, looked around for a while, and then left.

After walking for a while, we stopped in front of a mobile phone repair stall.

The boss was a young man, even younger than him. He kept his head down, the soldering iron in his hand touching a small motherboard, wisps of smoke rising from it. He squinted, not looking up.

Lin Dong stood there for a few seconds, then left.

He went back to the car and closed the door.

He opened his eyes: "Back to the company."

Zheng Hao started the car. Lin Dong took out his phone and sent a text message to Uncle Cai: "Help me check the situation of mobile phone channels in Shenzhen. Offline stores, agents, wholesale markets, I need them all."

Uncle Cai replied instantly: "Okay."

Lin Dong put down his phone and looked out the window.

The streets of Shenzhen recede from the car window: skyscrapers, construction sites, scaffolding, banners, and pedestrians.

The city is under construction, growing, and rushing forward like crazy.

He was the same.

When Lin Dong drove back to the company building, he opened the car door and was about to get out when his phone vibrated.

Uncle Cai's text message: "President Lin, I've compiled the channel information and sent it to your email. Also, several distributors contacted us before, wanting to become our mobile phone distributors. I haven't replied yet; we'll wait for your decision."

After reading it, Lin Dong typed a few words: "Let's make an appointment. See you next week."

He put his phone in his pocket and walked into the building.

The elevator ascended, and the doors opened.

The corridor was quiet; some people were typing on keyboards at their workstations, while others were making phone calls.

Lin Dong walked down the corridor, pushed open the office door, sat down, and turned on his computer. He stared at the screen for a few seconds without moving, his mind still on the distribution channels.

He picked up a pen from the table and wrote a few words on a sticky note: channels, stores, agents, press conference.