Chapter 143 Transnational Telegraph, Hans's Test
Hans Schmidt.
mechanic.
This name, this address book, this network of contacts spanning Europe—these are the last and most mysterious trump cards that Su Wantang's mother left her.
In the 1980s, sending a private telegram to West Germany was akin to lighting a torch in the dark, attracting countless prying eyes. The risks were immense.
But now, she has no choice.
Haitang Technology, like a train that has sped off at high speed, has had its throttle firmly choked. It either stops and waits to die, or it takes a gamble.
She was never one to sit idly by and wait for death.
...
The next day, at Haitang Technology, in the factory manager's office.
"Miss, are we really going to do this?" Qin Zheng's expression was solemn. He had just received confirmation from Du Kangnian in Shanghai that it was indeed possible to send an encrypted telegram to West Germany through special channels in Hong Kong, but it would be time-consuming, labor-intensive, and could not guarantee absolute security.
"Otherwise what?" Bai Shu raised his eyes, his gaze as calm as a deep pool of water.
"Standing there and waiting to die, watching millions go down the drain, watching Professor Zhou and his colleagues pour their hearts and souls into a pile of worthless paper?"
Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable decisiveness.
Qin Zheng said no more, but simply straightened his back silently.
“Send a telegram to Du Kangnian.” Bai Shu’s fingertips tapped lightly on the table, making a soft tapping sound. “I will tell you the content, and you will write it down.”
"To Mr. Hans Schmidt."
"I am Bai Xiuzhu's daughter. I urgently need to purchase a batch of precision instruments. The list is attached. The price can be 30% higher than the market price."
Qin Zheng paused in his writing: "Miss, thirty percent? This..."
“Not enough,” Bai Shu shook his head. “Forty percent. Tell him that money is not a problem, I need it as fast as possible.”
She used the simplest and most direct method to reveal her two major bargaining chips: her mother's name and her substantial financial resources.
The telegram was sent from Beijing to Shanghai through the most secretive channels, then from Shanghai to Hong Kong Island, and finally, like an invisible carrier pigeon, it crossed thousands of miles and flew to distant West Germany.
For the next three days, a sense of anxious anticipation permeated the entire Haitang Technology company.
Zhou Jimin's team members all had dark circles under their eyes and walked with a slight limp, yet they couldn't help but glance towards the factory director's office. They didn't say anything, but the flicker of fire in their eyes didn't lie.
That is hope.
It was the only ray of light they saw after being pulled out of the abyss.
Finally, on the afternoon of the third day, a call came back.
The thin telegram paper, light as a feather, felt as heavy as a thousand pounds.
Qin Zheng almost held his breath as he handed the telegram to Bai Shu.
In the office, Zhou Jimin also rushed over upon hearing the news, nervously wringing his hands, barely daring to breathe.
Bai Zhu received the telegram.
On the paper, there was only one line of cold, printed Chinese characters, which seemed to carry a metallic chill.
"If I don't know you, I won't trade with you, and I won't reply."
Nine words, like nine sharp knives chilled to the bone, instantly pierced the hearts of everyone in the office.
"This...how is this possible..." The color drained from Zhou Jimin's face in an instant. He staggered back a step and grabbed the wall to keep from collapsing.
The nascent flame of hope was extinguished completely by a bucket of ice water, leaving not a trace of smoke.
It's over.
It's completely over.
“How could he… how could he do this!” A young researcher on the team finally couldn’t hold back, his voice trembling with tears.
"You don't want the money? We can definitely afford it!"
The office was deathly silent.
Only suppressed, desperate gasps could be heard.
Bai Shu stared at the nine characters, his face expressionless, only his peach blossom eyes growing darker and darker, like thick ink that could not be dissolved.
For the first time, she felt so clearly that money is not everything.
Faced with real barriers, the power of money is laughably fragile.
"Get out, all of you," she said, her voice revealing neither joy nor anger.
"Chairman Bai..." Zhou Jimin wanted to say something more.
"Get out," Bai Shu said again, his tone leaving no room for argument.
The group exchanged glances, and ultimately, filled with disappointment and despair, silently withdrew.
The office door closed gently.
The calm on Su Wantang's face finally receded like the tide.
She slowly, bit by bit, tore the telegram into pieces.
The problem isn't about money.
It's not in the mother's name either.
She... used the wrong way to knock on the door.
Su Wantang locked the door from the inside and told Qin Zheng to guard the door and not let anyone in.
After entering the space, he spent the entire afternoon spreading out all of his mother's belongings on the floor.
That rosewood cigar box, that dark brown leather-covered address book, and several of my mother's favorite books, including a copy of "Three Hundred Tang Poems" that she had copied herself.
She believed that since her mother had left Hans with this path, it could never be a dead end.
There must be a "key".
There must be that key to getting started!
Her gaze swept back and forth across the relics, her mind racing, trying to find even the slightest connection between these seemingly unrelated objects.
Time passed, second by second.
Her gaze finally settled on the handwritten copy of "Three Hundred Tang Poems".
The pages, slightly yellowed from years of frequent use, carry a pleasant scent of ink.
A scene long buried deep in her memory suddenly flashed through her mind.
That was a long time ago, before her mother, Bai Xiuzhu, passed away. One summer afternoon, she held her young daughter in her arms, pointed to an ancient book, and taught her an ancient encryption method with a smile.
"Tangtang, look, this is called 'jump word code'. As long as we agree on the 'key', the same words will have completely different meanings in the eyes of different people."
key!
Su Wantang's breath hitched!
She grabbed the address book with lightning speed and turned to the page with "Hans Schmidt" written on it.
Then, she picked up the book "Three Hundred Tang Poems".
Her heart began to pound uncontrollably.
What if... what if the "key" was Hans's name?
A crazy idea took shape in her mind.
She immediately began to decipher the information by comparing Hans's name in the address book with the poetry collection.
This is an extremely tedious and boring process.
She broke down the name "Hans Schmidt" into individual phonetic letters, and then, according to a specific pattern, mapped them to page numbers, line numbers, and word counts in the poetry collection...
She tried again and again.
fail.
It was another failure.
Sweat trickled down her forehead, wetting the hair at her temples, but she was completely unaware.
The whole world seemed to have disappeared.
All she could see were those densely packed Chinese characters and that string of German names.
After some time, when she failed again and was almost about to give up, a detail caught her attention.
In the address book, Hans's name is followed by an inconspicuous number "7".
seven?
A seven-character quatrain?
Su Wantang's spirits lifted, as if she had seen a glimmer of light in the darkness.
She immediately narrowed her search to all the seven-character quatrains in the poetry collection.
Once again, the key is "Hans Schmidt" to decipher the code.
Time, in the heat of intense focus, loses its meaning.
When she found the corresponding word in the book of poems based on the last letter, her finger suddenly stopped.
It was an extremely unremarkable seven-character quatrain describing the scenery of the frontier.
She put all the deciphered words together and rearranged them using German grammar.
A fluent German code word, carrying a certain chilling atmosphere, leaps off the page.
"Die Haitang-Blume blüht, der Adler breitet seine Flügel aus."
—When the crabapple blossoms, the eagle soars.
It's done!
Su Wantang leaned back in her chair, her whole body soaked in sweat, as if she had just been pulled out of the water.
But her eyes were frighteningly bright!
The blooming of crabapple blossoms represents her, a descendant of the Bai family.
And "the eagle spreads its wings"...
Su Wantang's pupils suddenly contracted.
Eagle...eagle...
Eagle's Nest!
What exactly is the relationship between this Hans and the "Eagle's Nest" organization?
Enemy? Friend?
Is the thread left by her mother a bright path to hope, or a trap that lures her into the abyss?
Countless questions churned in her mind.
But she had no time to hesitate.
This is her only option right now.
Even if it's a mountain of knives and a sea of fire, she has to get through it!
Su Wantang stood up, returned to her room, and let Qin Zheng in.
"Immediately send another telegram to Hans Schmidt in my name."
Qin Zheng was clearly taken aback.
"This time, the main text consists of only one sentence."
Looking out at the pitch-black night, Su Wantang spoke clearly and deliberately in German:
"Die Haitang-Blume blüht, der Adler breitet seine Flügel aus."
She knew that this response would determine the life or death of Haitang Technology, and perhaps even her own.
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