Chapter 260 Not a Betrayal, But a Resurrection: Winter Will Always Pass

Inside the office, the heating pipes hissed, and peeling plaster fell in a tremor.

A display case of medals from the Brezhnev era leans against the corner of the wall, its glass cracked like a spider web, reflecting the scattered КР580 chips on the desk.

They are like a pile of abandoned silver pupils, silently watching their powerless creator.

Petrov was pinned to the sofa, still breathing heavily; his violently heaving chest was a testament to his inner turmoil.

Wang Xiao looked at the elderly scientist, who was over sixty years old. He was wearing a dark blue suit, and the cuffs of his sweater were worn. He could faintly smell the scent of mothballs.

Frankly speaking, although Russian research institutions are generally struggling, it's not easy for the head of one to live such a modest life.

Because power is too easily monetized.

Those who uphold professional ethics and do not seek personal gain deserve respect.

Wang Xiao slightly raised his eyes, and Nikolai and Xiao Gao immediately released the director's hands, but their eyes did not relax for a moment.

Good heavens, this is a highly intelligent scientist. If he were determined to commit suicide, there would be countless eyes watching him.

Wang Xiao pushed his wheelchair forward, approaching the coffee table in front of the sofa, and gently pushed the old photos in the metal box toward Petrov: "Sir, the КР580 chip on your desk is the result of reverse engineering the Intel 8080 in 1983, isn't it? At that time, the West asserted that the Soviet Union would never be able to produce integrated circuits of the same precision, but you used the calculation results of БЭСМ-6 to slap the arrogant face of the Western world."

Petrov was taken aback; he never expected that this capitalist from the East would be able to utter such tales about the glory of the Soviet microelectronics industry.

The smiles of myself and my colleagues in the photo were brighter than the summer sun over the Black Sea, but now, we've all gone our separate ways.

He didn't even have the courage to touch it again.

Wang Xiao pushed the wheelchair once more, bent down with difficulty, picked up the pistol on the ground, skillfully removed the magazine, pushed it in front of Petrov, and looked directly into his eyes: "Sir, the production number of this Makarov pistol is 1983—the same year that the КР580 chip was born. They should both be weapons to protect ideals, not tools to end them."

“Ideals?” Petrov’s expression was a mixture of laughter and tears. “What ideals are left? Where are the ideals?!”

Like an enraged old bear, he swung his hand downwards forcefully, knocking over the metal box and pistol on the coffee table. The photograph fell to the ground, the gun barrel pointing downwards.

With a heavy thud, a Soviet-made pistol from 1983 killed the spirited young man of that year.

Wang Xiao withdrew his gaze and looked up at the astonished Petrov: "Sir, ideals cannot be killed, and the ideals of Soviet science and technology will never die."

Petrov bent down to pick up the photo, but abruptly pulled his head back.

The scientist, with graying temples, stared at her warily, seeing right through her intentions: "Don't try to be nice. You're all the same, vultures, only interested in devouring the corpses of Soviet technology."

Wang Xiao shook his head: "No, sir, you are wrong. Soviet technology is not dead yet, so what corpse is there? As long as defenders like you are still around, Soviet technology will not die."

Petrov seemed shocked, remaining stunned for a full half-second before letting out a cold laugh: "The Soviet Union is dead, and everything that belonged to the Soviet Union is long dead."

“Really?” Wang Xiao pushed his wheelchair forward again, picking up the gun and photos from the ground. “On December 25, 1991, when Gorbachev announced the death of the Soviet Union, the Western media’s headline was ‘The End of History.’ But is that true?”

She suddenly grabbed the BECM-6 computer manual from the table and slammed it down next to Makarov's pistol. "No, at least the Americans don't think that way. They disassembled the Soyuz spacecraft and revised the Apollo program's technical manual overnight—sir, do you know why?"

Wang Xiao lowered his voice, his fingertips lightly tracing the stamped mark of the Collective Labor Medal on the title page of the manual, "Because the docking system you developed, verified by three hundred research institutes and eight thousand engineers, saved 47% more fuel than NASA's. This is Soviet technology, the Soviet technology created by the great social collectivism!"

Petrov, as if struck on a sore spot, suddenly erupted in fury: "What else do you want? The Americans bought Mikhail's brain, the Koreans emptied Zelenogler's machine tools, and now, is it the Chinese's turn? Don't even think about it!"

Nikitin was terrified and rushed forward to hug Petrov tightly: "Sir, my Academician, relax, please don't get agitated, your blood pressure, your blood pressure."

Petrov's forehead veins throbbed violently, making those who saw him fear that his blood vessels might burst at any moment.

His face was flushed, and even in the dead of winter, sweat beaded on his temples. He squeezed out two words through gritted teeth: "Don't even think about it!"

Wang Xiao shook his head: "Sir, I will not poach people. What I want has never been your brains, but the systematic methodology you have refined with collectivism—something the West can never steal."

Petrov seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world: "Collectivism? The Soviet Union is dead, where is the collectivism? Look—"

He pointed out the window, “My students are trading transistors for black bread. We can’t even use silicon single-crystal furnaces anymore. There’s no collectivism left.”

Without hesitation, Wang Xiao said, "Two million US dollars. Use it for technical consulting fees to pay everyone's back wages and to repair the silicon single crystal furnace. Use the rest to buy old lathes from the Leningrad Machine-Building Plant—you know better than the Koreans how to revive them. I guarantee that the patent rights will still belong to the research institute."

However, the scientist's strong sense of pride was too easily offended, and he instantly became agitated again: "Use capital to corrupt Soviet technology? Delusion! Siberian wolves never share food with vultures!"

Wang Xiao retorted without hesitation: "The collapse of the Soviet Union was not because scientists accepted US dollars, but because the Kremlin forgot the value of scientists. Now, the Soviet Union's science and technology are at their most dangerous point. It is our duty to save it and promote it immediately! There is no other way."

Petrov shook his head: "No, there is another way."

He suddenly pulled out his pen and pressed it against the carotid artery in his neck, while forcefully tearing the technical manual to shreds with his other hand. "Now, my blood will splatter in Pravda, letting the whole world see how Russia kills its own scientists!"

Everyone present was stunned, and Nikolai and Xiao Gao and others were even more ready to act.

Is this an ordinary pen? No. It's a pen gun, usually only used by secret agents.

They knew that a clever mind had a thousand ways to kill itself in front of everyone, making it impossible to guard against.

Wang Xiao was the first to get angry, sneering, "I'm very disappointed, Mr. Petrov. I misjudged you. Only cowards would flee without a fight and choose death. True warriors will always fight to the last moment. Soviet technology doesn't need martyrs; it only needs defenders!"

Petrov refused to put down the pen gun pressed against his carotid artery: "The battle is over, the Soviet Union has lost."

"No, the battle is still ongoing."

Wang Xiao raised her hand, and Liu Ba immediately handed her a document.

The document, bearing the official seal of the Pudong Administrative Committee, is titled "Request for the Establishment of a China-Russia Science and Technology Cooperation Demonstration Zone."

The writing style completely imitates the Soviet-era "Five-Year Plan Task Book".

“You see, we can work together to restore the golden triangle of ‘design bureau-research institute-factory,’ but this time—”

Wang Xiao's fingertips traced the Shanghai map on the document. "The battlefield is here, and the enemy is time."

She looked up and clearly stated her request: "We need your gallium arsenide process to manufacture radiation-resistant chips—not for missiles, not for any weapons, but for the robots in China's future 100,000 nuclear power plants."

She looked at him earnestly. "Sir, would you rather Soviet technology be reborn from the ruins of Chernobyl, or perish in the smog of Moscow?"

Ivanov's feelings were very complicated, extremely complicated.

It wasn't because he remained a wallflower throughout the entire negotiation process. He was self-aware enough not to try to assert himself or make his presence felt when it wasn't appropriate.

What truly filled him with mixed feelings was—

As he left the research institute, he couldn't help but remark to Wang Xiao, "Wang, compared to you, I feel like a fake Soviet."

Good heavens, he doesn't understand anything about the КР580 chip or reverse engineering the Intel 8080.

Lebedev's famous quote: ЭВМнетолькомашина, этобудущеечеловечества.

Yes, he should have been able to recite it completely when he was in school, because you have to quote famous sayings when writing essays.

However, he has been out of school for many years.

And the king was able to recount all of this in great detail.

Wang Xiao was drinking water. She didn't refuse Petrov's chocolate; it was a matter of dignity that an old scientist had to be respected.

But honestly, Russian chocolate is just too sweet. Even when served with Georgian tea, it's still excessively sweet.

"I memorized it beforehand." Wang Xiao asked curiously, "Don't you memorize things before the exam?"

"No, no, no, I wasn't quoting a famous saying," Ivanov wailed. "Those chip engineering projects are completely baffling to me."

“It was memorized too.” Wang Xiao said suspiciously, “Didn’t you notice that my way of speaking was wrong? When do I usually speak like this? My God, those long sentences, I wrote them down in advance, memorized them, and then burned them.”

For today's negotiation, she prepared three sets of talking points: one for fame, one for profit, and one for indifference to fame and profit.

She revised the wording and style of each version no less than eight times.

Because she couldn't afford to lose, she had to acquire Soviet technology; it was her biggest trump card and the secret weapon that allowed her to gain the support of her domestic government.

Ivanov nodded sincerely: "Your Majesty, when you were in school, you must have been the teacher's favorite and the students' enemy."

That's terrifying—a horrible existence that whips itself.

Wang Xiao rolled her eyes at him and smiled slightly: "Dear sir, I think you should also master these things."

Thankfully, he wasn't her subordinate, but her partner; otherwise, she would have definitely nagged him: "We're already counting on the Academy of Sciences to make money, how dare you not do any homework?"

Ivanov chuckled dryly, showing no sign of guilt.

The most important thing in life is to recognize your own position.

For example, he only needs to provide Wang with ample emotional support and assurances from his Russian network of connections.

But being a poor student, he quickly changed the subject: "Hey, Wang, when did you get the official document from Shanghai? I don't remember it at all."

Wang Xiao's gaze fell on the official document, his smile unchanged: "We'll get it soon."

"God!" Ivanov nearly jumped up.

He thought he was already incredibly audacious, but little did he know that Wang was the one who got something for nothing.

She told the governments in Beijing and Shanghai that she had secured cooperation from the Russian Academy of Sciences and requested policy support.

She told the scientists at the institute that she had obtained policy proposals from the local government in China and requested cooperation.

Actually, she didn't have anything in her hands when she appeared!

"There will be milk, and there will be bread." Wang Xiao didn't feel that she had done anything outrageous.

Every project needs a breakthrough to move forward. Instead of endlessly arguing about who should take the first step, it's better to skip that step altogether.

Brave people are always the first to enjoy life.

Even if the Shanghai Municipal Government is truly unwilling to issue this official document, she can directly approach the Jiangdong Provincial Government.

The Jiangdong Provincial Government would likely be quite pleased.

Leaving aside the chip aspect, even just considering the research data on liquid crystal molecule orientation, the Soviet Union's research data from the 1980s, although lagging behind the world's top level, could circumvent Japanese patents.

Furthermore, she could also obtain the blueprints for vacuum coating equipment, which could be used in the production of ITO glass.

Whoever takes this deal will benefit the local area for at least thirty years.

What about the 3,000 mu of land in Shanghai? Sigh, can't we survive without high technology? Land itself is a huge asset.

Ivanov blinked hard; he should have realized it sooner.

Because in the king's eyes, all beings are equal.

She could use the speculators in Moscow to lure Chinese businessmen in Bucharest, creating the impression that countless people were scrambling for shops in Beijing; and conversely, she could create the atmosphere that shops in Shanghai were being snapped up like crazy.

She dared to do the same thing between the Chinese local government and the Russian Academy of Sciences.

Ivanov took a deep breath, then suddenly realized something: "So, you're in a hurry to go to Shanghai again?"

“Of course.” Wang Xiao’s calculations were very precise. “February 9th is Lunar New Year’s Eve, and most workplaces will be closed on that day.”

Ivanov's eyes widened like a bull's, and his nostrils flared like a bull's nose: "Your Majesty, don't forget, you have a broken bone."

“I know,” Wang Xiao emphasized considerately. “I asked the doctor, and the fracture won’t affect my ability to fly. Also, do you really think Moscow’s winter is suitable for recuperating? It’s too cold, all snow and ice. Shanghai is different; it’s normal for it not to snow for more than a decade in winter.”

If he weren't in the car, Ivanov would definitely be running around in circles in a panic.

"But Wang, aren't you afraid your parents will find out you're injured?"

Wang Xiao said nonchalantly, "Oh, it's nothing unusual to break a bone while ice skating in winter. They wouldn't make a fuss over something so trivial."

Ivanov was so angry that he turned his head away and just stared at the gray, gloomy sky outside the window, feeling naturally sullen.

Wang Xiao reached out and patted his arm lightly: "Hey, Ivanov, I'm not suited to stay in Moscow. Punonin is just busy right now, but once he's done with things in Romania, he'll definitely be keeping a close eye on me. Rather than that, I'd rather step back first."

Ivanov still felt wronged: "You've abandoned me again, Your Majesty, how could you abandon me?"

When facing his partner, Wang Xiao always displays several times more patience than usual: "Because I need you to protect me in Moscow."

The bodyguards all turned their attention to their surroundings.

What else can they do? Their boss has the nerve to say it, but they have no face to listen.

When the car returned to the villa, Wang Xiao was carried into the warm and cozy house.

The housekeeper believed fire was more reliable than electricity and even lit the fireplace. This greatly worried Ivanov, who feared they would suffer carbon monoxide poisoning in the house.

Wang Xiao drank the white fungus, pear, and goji berry soup and then started making phone calls again.

Well, it's not that she's a workaholic, but it was a call from the Chinese Embassy in Romania, so she had to give them face and answer it.

The counselor first exchanged pleasantries, inquired about her health, and then actively recommended a skilled traditional Chinese medicine doctor to her. His family had a secret family recipe, and the ointment applied to the fracture site would prevent bone pain even after it healed and the weather changed.

After that formality was over, the counselor finally got to the point: "Mr. Wang, about the Chinese businessmen in the container market, well, it's the dead of winter, almost Chinese New Year, they're all having a tough time."

Wang Xiao immediately and without hesitation switched to a pitiful mode, thinking, "They have it tough, but do you think it's easy for me?"

If it weren't for them making her angry, she had originally planned to spend the New Year in Bucharest and bring her parents there.

As a result, her uncle's family was forced to lay low and go home early for the Chinese New Year.

If she hadn't been so angry that she ran away, she wouldn't have been in such a hurry to board that plane, and she almost lost her life.

The counselor was extremely embarrassed, but he also knew perfectly well that the vendors in the container market were being dishonest.

But then again, the work at the embassy isn't as glamorous as people imagine; often, it involves dealing with trivial matters.

With so many Chinese businesspeople coming to the embassy demanding justice for them, the embassy couldn't just kick them out.

Isn't that deliberately creating conflict, as if afraid outsiders won't laugh at China?

Therefore, when it's time to compromise, they have to compromise.

The counselor, settling for second best, said, "Actually, they know they were wrong. So, is there really no hope for the stalls in the container market?"

"They're all gone, they've all been rented out."

The counselor conceded further: "If that really doesn't work, what about shops in Beijing's electronics market?"

“They’re gone.” Wang Xiao said without hesitation. “If we had given them to them earlier, they wouldn’t have wanted them. They’ve all been snatched up by now.”

The counselor was at a loss: "Then Mr. Wang, you have to think of a solution. It's the New Year, and so many people are crying and blocking the embassy every day. It's not a good look. Hey, you're such a big boss, what difference does it make whose money you make? For the sake of money, why bother with them?"

Wang Xiao thought about it and actually became tolerant and generous: "Since you've said so, how could I not give you face? Oh, I'm not complaining, but the squeaky wheel gets the grease, right? You all just force someone like me who doesn't cry or make a fuss."

The counselor chuckled again before finally getting Wang Xiao's reply. He then turned and went out to tell the eager Chinese businessmen, "Alright, I've talked myself hoarse for you, but the shops are indeed gone."

He couldn't help but complain, "You guys are really reckless. Prime shops are incredibly valuable. Okay, stop complaining. There are three options, all bonds. One is a bond issued by Beijing Electronics City, another by Shanghai Electronics City, both secured by shop rental income. They're both in US dollars. The Shanghai one is 5 years with an annual interest rate of 12%, and the Beijing one is 3 years with an annual interest rate of 10%. The third one is a special bond for subway construction issued by a company under the Jiangdong Provincial Government, also 5 years with an annual interest rate of 12%."

Chinese businessmen immediately expressed their dissatisfaction: "That's too low. Romanian government bond interest rates are still 45%."

The counselor could only patiently explain to people: "But this is Ley, and when it depreciates, 45% is a loss."

The Chinese businessman remained unconvinced: "Then I might as well lend it out; 8% monthly interest is the minimum."

The counselor thought to himself, “You’re talking about usury right in front of the embassy. Should I thank you for not treating the embassy like an outsider?”

But he still forced a reminder: "Once you release them, you have to be able to guarantee you'll get them back. Let me make this clear upfront: the Romanian police won't help you collect the money, and our embassy can't do that either."

He added, "Actually, the annualized rate of return on this bond isn't low."

The leading Chinese businessman disagreed: "What can this little bit of interest do?"

The counselor was annoyed; indeed, human greed is insatiable.

He didn't bother with further words, only reminding them: "If you want to buy, then make plans as soon as possible. The issuance quota in Shanghai is 50 million US dollars, and the total is 30 million US dollars. Once it's sold out, there's nowhere else for you to buy. Okay, go back and discuss it yourselves."

Some Chinese businessmen were timid. Only after the leader had left in a huff did they cautiously ask the counselor, "What if the Chinese yuan depreciates again? It dropped so much last year."

The counselor explained, "The principal and interest of the bonds are pegged to the US dollar, and the agreement stipulates that a goods-for-compensation clause will be activated if the exchange rate of the Chinese yuan falls below 8.7. You can wait a bit, the contract sample will be faxed over soon, and you can make a decision after you've reviewed it. This matter doesn't necessarily have to be settled today."

He was impressed by Wang Xiao's business acumen; even if she didn't give people shops, she could still extract money from their pockets without stopping her.

$80 million in bonds, issued just like that, and they can collect so much money all at once.

With this money, she can develop her 40-acre plot of land in Beijing's Second Ring Road however she wants.

Wow, rich people are really something, each one knows how to use other people's money to make money for themselves.

Compared to her, those idiots who only know how to traffic drugs and people are truly both stupid and vicious.

His gaze swept over today's Romanian newspaper, Libertarian, which contained only two news articles.

One article states that Minister Luo Wenhua, feeling ashamed of his mismanagement of the welfare home, which resulted in poor living conditions for orphans, voluntarily resigned.

The other article is even simpler: the Deputy Minister of the Interior suffered a sudden heart attack and died at home early this morning despite all efforts to save him.

What is the truth? Romania certainly cannot afford to lose face like this.

The counselor put down his newspaper and looked out the window.

In the bleak winter of northern Balkans, the sun in Bucharest peeked out from behind the clouds, hinting at a touch of warmth.

Winter will always pass, and spring will always come, won't it?

————————

Good morning, have a great weekend!