Chapter 48 The Glow at the Negotiation Table

The restarted negotiations went much more smoothly.

Song Zhiyi's translations are as precise as a calibrated instrument; every term, every legal concept, and every subtle shift in tone is accurately conveyed by her. Even more remarkable is that she translates not only language but also culture.

When Abdul mentioned the "social benefits" of a certain investment project, Song Zhiyi translated and then softly reminded Huo Yanli in Chinese: "Mr. Huo, in the Arabic context, 'social benefits' often specifically refers to concrete feedback to local tribes and communities, not just macro-level social responsibility. I suggest you make it more specific in subsequent discussions."

Huo Yanli's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately adjusted the direction of his presentation, explaining in detail how many jobs the project would create for the local area, how many technicians it would train, and what community facilities it would build.

Abdul's expression visibly softened.

The negotiations moved to the core terms—the governance structure of the local joint venture. The Huo family demanded a controlling stake, but the other side insisted that local capital must have some decision-making power. The two sides reached a stalemate.

“We understand Hof’s technological and managerial strengths,” Abdul said, “but in our culture, cooperation must be an equal partnership, not a simple employment.”

After translating accurately, Song Zhiyi remained silent for a few seconds, then looked at Huo Yanli and said quickly in a voice only the two of them could hear: "His real concern may not be the controlling stake, but rather the issue of face. In tribal culture, being completely excluded from decision-making is a disgrace. I suggest considering setting up a local advisory committee, granting it nominal 'joint decision-making power,' but in practice, the Huo family would still dominate."

Huo Yanli gave her a deep look.

This is not just translation; it's strategic advice. And it's based on a deep understanding of the local culture.

After a moment's thought, he proposed a new plan: to establish a "strategic decision-making committee" composed of representatives from both sides. All major decisions would require consultation with the committee, but day-to-day operations would be handled by the Huo family's management team.

After listening to the translation, Abdul did not immediately express his opinion, but instead asked a few detailed questions. Song Zhiyi answered them one by one, and even when the other party mentioned the traditional deliberation rules of a certain tribe, she naturally added: "Yes, it's similar to the tradition of 'Majilis,' where the elders discuss together, but the final decision is made by the most respected person."

Abdul's eyes lit up: "Does Translator Song understand our traditions?"

"I had the opportunity to learn some things while working abroad," Song Zhiyi replied modestly.

The negotiations suddenly went smoothly afterward. Abdul seemed to have developed a certain trust in Song Zhiyi—a foreigner who understood and respected their culture was a rare find in this circle.

With the key deadlock broken, progress on other terms became smoother. After an entire afternoon, both sides reached a consensus on the main terms and agreed to sign a formal agreement a week later.

As Abdul stood up, he walked over to Song Zhiyi and said in Arabic, "You are the most outstanding professional today." Then he turned to Huo Yanli and added in English, "Mr. Huo, you have a remarkable translator. Please convey my respect to her."

Song Zhiyi simply nodded slightly: "It's my duty."

After the crowd dispersed, only she and Huo Yanli remained in the conference room.

She was organizing her notes and documents, her movements methodical and efficient. The buttons on her crisp suit jacket were undone, revealing the slightly damp collar of her shirt—four hours of intense simultaneous interpreting had taken a heavy toll on her physical strength.

"Song Zhiyi," Huo Yanli said.

She looked up, her eyes still showing lingering focus, but also a hint of weariness.

"Thank you for today."

“You’re welcome. It’s a task assigned by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.” She put the documents into her briefcase, glanced at her watch, and said, “If there’s nothing else, I need to go back to the ministry to return the documents and equipment.”

"I send you."

"No need, the department's car is waiting downstairs." She fastened her briefcase, pushed open the door, and left.

Huo Yanli stood there, looking at the mineral water bottle she had left on the table—a few Arabic letters were written on the bottle, keywords that she had jotted down while translating, now blurred by the water vapor.

He walked to the window and watched the evening traffic. His phone vibrated; it was a message from Ji Yun: "I heard your wife saved the day? Zhou Mubai is telling everyone she's a treasure."

He stared at the word "wife" for a few seconds, and for the first time, he didn't find it irritating.

As dusk settled outside the window, the city began to shimmer with a different kind of light. He suddenly recalled a moment during the negotiations when sunlight had brushed past the tip of her pen, casting a faint halo around her fingertips.

The light was very still and steady.

Just like her as a person.