Chapter 319 Production Technology Exists on the Production Line (Bug Fixing): You've Lost Your Confidence
Punonin was destined never to be intimate or loving with Ivanov.
Because this time, Secretary Fang's visit to Moscow was not for sightseeing, but to seek cooperation.
At the welcoming banquet on the evening of her arrival in Moscow, she directly told the mayor of Moscow her request—to introduce technology.
One is mechanical manufacturing and heavy industry technology.
As a province with a strong industrial base, Jiangdong hopes to introduce advanced machinery manufacturing technology to improve the level of its local equipment manufacturing industry.
Heavy machine tools, construction machinery (such as excavators and cranes), and precision machining technologies are of strategic significance to the upgrading of the machinery industry in Jiangdong.
Another area is new materials and laser technology, which are applied to electronics, optical instruments, and high-end manufacturing to drive industrial innovation.
Secretary Fang spoke frankly, and Mayor Luzhkov didn't hold back either.
After the welcoming banquet, he directly invited Ivanov, Punonin, and his confidants into his study and told them about the matter.
From a theoretical perspective, such important matters concerning Moscow's municipal policies should be decided by the Moscow government.
Neither Ivanov, the businessman, nor Punonin, the tax police major general, had the right to speak on this matter.
But theory is one thing, what leadership team does Moscow actually have?
Luzhkov was like a Siberian tiger; he peed around Moscow and then claimed it as his territory.
What doesn't he have the final say on?
Punonin cursed inwardly, thinking that the damned old fox had done it on purpose, deliberately calling him and Ivanov over so they could put on a showdown.
Only now did he feel a pang of regret. He shouldn't have been so tough from beginning to end; he should have softened his stance and given Ivanov a way out.
This way, they won't have to make such a scene in the open and cause such an ugly situation, which would affect the overall picture.
But now that things had come to this, Punonin could not back down; he had to make his stance clear and turn the tide.
“Absolutely not.” He said firmly, “Especially machine tools and precision machining. The Chinese may say they’re for civilian use, but they can’t possibly not use them for military purposes.”
He reminded everyone in the study, "Don't forget about Toshiba's machine tools!"
The Toshiba MBP-110S nine-axis five-linkage CNC propeller milling machine, which caused a great stir in the 1980s, was also said by the Soviet Union to be for civilian use when it was imported.
The result? The Soviet Union used this to improve its submarine manufacturing technology, causing the Americans to suffer a great loss.
Moreover, as far as he knew, the Soviet government was also trying to reverse engineer the core technology of nine-axis five-linkage CNC machine tools in order to achieve independent production and research and development of similar high-end machine tools.
If the Soviet Union hadn't collapsed later, this might have been accomplished.
Now, how could Punonin dare to let China play the role that the Soviet Union did back then?
Without a doubt, Ivanov opposed his opposition.
"My view is exactly the opposite; I think it's better for China to introduce it."
He seemed quite familiar with Luzhkov's study, shifting lazily on the sofa before revealing a strange smile. "After all, apart from China, not many countries are willing to import our technology outside of military industry."
He spread his hands and said, "COCOM was originally targeting socialist countries. How many socialist countries are left now? Of the remaining socialist countries, who has the ability to introduce, digest, and absorb our technology?"
Punonin had no choice but to retort: "What you said about it being purely for civilian use and not being applied to military industry is just empty talk."
Ivanov glanced at him calmly, then turned his gaze to Mayor Luzhkov and shook his head: "Our Major General seems to be confusing things. The Jiangdong Provincial Government and the Beijing Government are two different things. Military industry—"
He raised his finger, gesturing towards Beijing, saying, "This is a matter for the central government of China, and has nothing to do with local governments."
Punoning was so angry he almost laughed. He didn't know if his childhood friend, whom he had watched grow up, was genuinely naive or blinded by greed, which was why he said such a presumptuous thing.
"It has nothing to do with the local government?!"
Ivanov nodded and said seriously, "Last year, China carried out financial and tax reforms, which had a significant impact on both the central and local governments."
He empathetically provided his compatriots with some background information: "Previously, China's financial situation, what they called a 'financial Soviet Union,' was characterized by fragmented governance. If, back then, local governments, with their independent kingdom mentality, wanted to develop the military industry, that was somewhat understandable. But now—"
He shook his head. "Local governments are all busy making money. Nobody wants to touch things like military industry, which involve national defense. It has to be handled by the central government. After all—"
He laughed. "Whoever takes the most money should do more work."
Punonin still objected: "That's all wishful thinking on your part. The Communist Party doesn't care about the gains or losses of any one place or individual; they can..."
The tax police major general was unable to finish his sentence before he abruptly stopped.
Previously, the KGB forbade discussions of the capitalist free world; now, the opposite is true, and "GCD" has become a strange taboo word.
Ivanov's lips curled upwards, forming an almost mocking arc.
He shrugged and stood up from the sofa: "It doesn't matter. Major General, please don't be nervous. Even if Moscow rejects Jiangdong's request to import technology, they won't pester us. In machine tools and precision machining, Japan's technology is at least better than the Soviet Union's, so they can always choose another option."
Punonin repeatedly warned himself not to lose his temper, but he was still enraged by Punonin's nonchalant and sarcastic attitude.
He narrowed his eyes, almost gritting his teeth: "If Japan were willing to transfer technology, she wouldn't have had to travel all the way to Moscow."
This "she" truly encompasses a wide range; heaven knows whether he's referring to Wang Xiao or Secretary Fang.
Ivanov was blunt: "Major General, I must remind you of something, namely that there is a technological gap. In June, Wuzhou Oil Company and Japan's Mitsui jointly built an oil refinery. Mitsui provided the JX-900 Mark II process from 1990. By the time the refinery went into operation, there was only a five-year technological gap."
He pointed out the dark window, "Can the technology that the Soviet Union left to Russia, whether it be machine tools or precision machinery, reach the level of Japan in 1985?"
Punonin was genuinely amused and stood up abruptly, his gaze piercing Ivanov like a needle: "According to you, why does the Jiangdong Provincial Government go to such lengths instead of directly importing Japanese technology? Are they not satisfied with the long march and have to continue on the long road?"
"In order to show goodwill, respond to the attitude of their central government, and build good relations with Russia."
Ivanov was blunt: "Now the east bank of the river has too many light industrial products to sell to Moscow, but what can Moscow sell to the east bank? You have to find something for them to exchange for something of equal value."
Punonin was genuinely amused and exasperated: "Then Moscow should really thank the Jiangdong Provincial Government for its understanding."
Ivanov replied seriously, "You can thank me in person."
Mayor Luzhkov had been sitting in his chair trimming his cigar ever since he brought up the topic, offering only his ears.
Now he witnessed Ivanov's infuriating power and couldn't help but chuckle: "It seems that our factory owner is quite understanding of the Jiangdong Provincial Government."
Ivanov nodded readily: "Of course, I do business with the Chinese, and I need to penetrate the Chinese market, so I definitely need to understand them."
Punonin couldn't help but sarcastically remark, "Entering the Chinese market? Are you planning to use Moscow's technology, or your three-wheeled motorcycle?"
Ivanov looked much more relaxed than him, with a completely carefree expression: "Transferring technology is the mayor's business. Getting the ZIL truck factory's three-wheeled vehicles into the Chinese market is indeed my job."
The usually talkative and cheerful deputy mayor couldn't hold back his laughter and exclaimed, "Oh, my Mr. Ivanov, China shouldn't be short of three-wheeled vehicles."
Everyone present clearly understood that the three-wheeled vehicle was actually invented by the Chinese themselves. Chinese businessmen in Moscow introduced it to the ZIL truck factory.
Is the apprentice now trying to steal the master's job?
Ivanov nodded solemnly: "We may well catch up later. As long as the three-wheeled vehicles produced by our truck factory have our advantages."
He stepped forward and pointed to the world map hanging in the study. "Here, China's three-wheeled vehicles are concentrated in the Central Plains. And here—"
He moved his finger up a little, "The cold Northeast region is our target sales area. Because our engines are more cold-resistant and freeze-resistant, and better suited to the climate requirements of the Northeast region."
In the study, everyone looked astonished. Even Mayor Luzhkov, who never showed his emotions, was surprised: "You still want to sell the three-wheeled motorcycle to Northeast China?"
“Of course.” Ivanov said confidently. “The Changchun FAW was originally built with the assistance of the ZIL Truck Factory. People in Northeast China have a high acceptance of Soviet cars, which is our advantage.”
As he spoke, he frowned. "The ZIL truck factory has 100,000 employees, and just paying their wages every month makes me dizzy. The three-wheeled vehicles must be sold all over Russia, all the CIS countries, Eastern Europe, and even the whole of Europe, as well as Northeast China, in order to sustain the survival and development of such a large factory."
The vice mayor found it unbelievable. Don't be fooled by how he bragged about the three-wheeled vehicle in front of Secretary Fang; that was just diplomatic etiquette and politeness.
Aside from destitute people who desperately want a car, he couldn't think of any other better option than buying a three-wheeled vehicle.
Punonin retorted sarcastically, "Then I must praise you for having a clear goal and a bright future. The Gir Truck Factory, the industrial jewel of Moscow, is actually going to rely on tricycles to go to Europe! Thank God, not bicycles."
“Otherwise, what do you think we can rely on?” Ivanov retorted. “Of the 7,000 supporting enterprises established during the Soviet era, 40% went bankrupt after 1992. Of the 5,600 parts in the classic ZIL-130 truck, 23% need to be imported.”
He couldn't stand the stupid politicians. "Do you think the closure of a factory is just the disappearance of that factory? No, it's the loss of a link in the entire industrial chain, making it impossible to function properly anymore. Do you know how difficult it is to rebuild that industrial chain? A market economy can't be like the planned economy era, where a factory only produces one type of part to supply another factory!"
Luzhkov certainly had ill intentions and was deliberately trying to escalate the conflict between Ivanov and Punonin, but he certainly didn't want to see the two of them fighting in his study.
Especially when one side is a tax police major general.
So he didn't hesitate to step in and act as a peacemaker: "Alright, alright, my young sir, I know it's not easy for you to run a factory. So, will the main business that Jill Truck Factory will be promoting from now on be three-wheeled vehicles?"
“At least in the short term.” Ivanov frowned deeply, thinking about the myriad issues at the factory. “The production of three-wheeled motorcycles requires few and simple parts. Only under these circumstances can I guarantee a continuous supply chain. Moreover, three-wheeled motorcycles are cheap, so everyone can buy them outright without installments.”
Given the ruble's poor exchange rate, making installment payments in Russia would be a death sentence for any business.
Ivanov couldn't help but complain, "The biggest reason why Russia's industry has collapsed so badly is that everyone is still living in the illusion of Soviet glory, instead of being realistic and doing what they can do now."
Luzhkov finally put down his cigar, clapped his hands, and stood up: "Very good, I know I didn't misjudge you. Mr. Ivanov, you are the one who can make the industrial heart of Moscow beat strong again."
Ivanov showed no signs of being flattered, proud, or excited by the praise; in fact, his brow remained furrowed, not even relaxing slightly.
"But achieving this goal is not something that Moscow alone, or even Russia alone, can accomplish. This is because of our geographical limitations and our high labor costs."
He pointed to a map of Europe, "Western Europe can transfer technology to Eastern Europe to reduce labor costs, use parts produced in Eastern Europe, complete the final assembly in Western Europe, and export them all over the world. Who can we do that with?"
He gestured with his finger around Ukraine, Belarus, and other former Soviet countries, saying, "They're no longer fit for that role, yet they still want to take over technology from Europe and America."
Ivanov's hand finally returned to Jiangdong's position. "Our window of opportunity is very small. We can only take advantage of our relative technological advantage and reduce production costs as much as possible in these few short years to strive for a larger market."
He sighed. "If we're lucky enough, this space we've secured can in turn benefit our technological research and development, creating a positive cycle. If we're unlucky—"
His voice turned sad, "Even if the technology becomes completely outdated and is eliminated, it can still support the factory for a few years, and with the accumulation of those years, it can continue to delay for a few more years."
Silence fell over the study, even Punoning, who was usually a contrarian, remained silent.
He was acutely aware of how serious the loss of scientific research talent was.
But while Moscow can throw outsiders into concentration camps, it cannot stop anyone from leaving Moscow.
Ivanov wearily rubbed his temples and looked away from the world map: "I've only done what I can, so I hope Moscow can open up its technology to the east of the river so that a supply chain for parts can be established."
He nodded to everyone in the study, and finally said goodbye to Luzhkov: "It's getting late, I have to go back. I have work to do tomorrow. Goodbye."
With that, he turned and left the study.
He didn't deliberately puff out his chest, but his back remained straight.
Punonin watched his departing figure, nodded to the mayor in return, and took his leave.
Early August in Moscow is no longer as hot as it was in July, especially at night. The night breeze carries the scent of lavender that has not yet faded and the coolness of early autumn.
Punonin had to hurry up to catch up with Ivanov: "Ivanov, wait a minute, I think we need to talk."
Perhaps it was the fatigue from a busy day that made him lethargic, or perhaps the scent of lavender truly had the effect of soothing the nerves and calming the mind, but instead of turning around like a hedgehog and directly confronting him, Ivanov calmly asked, "What do you want to talk about?"
With a thousand words on the tip of his tongue, Punonin suddenly didn't know which sentence to say first, and was even stunned for a moment.
He let out a long sigh, as if that would release the frustration and anxiety in his heart.
"Get in the car, let's talk in the car."
Ivanov nodded and headed towards his car.
Punonin insisted, "Get in my car. My car is safe and won't be monitored."
These words were truly offensive, completely belittling the bodyguards' abilities.
But Ivanov had no interest in getting bogged down in the details and simply nodded in agreement.
After the car door closed, Punonin earnestly advised, "Ivan, don't harbor any illusions and regard Luzhkov as the inheritor of the Soviet spirit. He is the Tsar. With your intelligence, you should have seen through it long ago. He treats Moscow as his own little territory."
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ivanov interrupted him. “If you treat it as your own land, at least you can manage it well.”
Punonin stared at him in astonishment: "Ivan, this is regression! A regression in history! Do you want to go back to the Tsarist era?"
Ivanov shook his head, looking at him with a complicated expression: "Vlamikil, let's not talk about Luzhkov anymore, I want to talk about you."
Seeing the other person's confused expression, he said, word by word, "You were silent in front of me just now, didn't you know what to say? You didn't know how to start because you had nothing to say."
He gestured for the other person to let him finish speaking. "Vlamikil, please think carefully. More than half a year has passed since January. What have you done? Don't talk about those metaphysical empty words. Tell me, what have you actually done?"
"If you can't answer that, then—"
Ivanov shook his head. "I think I can understand why you were completely dominated by Luzhkov tonight, and why he was in complete control."
“It’s not because he’s older, or because of his higher position, or because of his closer relationship with the President.”
"But he was doing real, concrete things. No matter what methods he used or how he did it, he was doing real things for Moscow."
"So he is confident and doesn't need to think about whether what he's doing is right or wrong. He just needs to see the results."
"And what about you? What about all of you?"
Ivanov shook his head, his face showing sadness and heartache. "You are clearly younger than him, and you should be the ones getting things done. But to this day, you have done nothing. Plan after plan have been made, but none of them have been implemented."
Punonin instinctively began to defend himself: "Because of obstruction, huge obstruction like Luzhkov's. Countless people like him treat state property as their own private property and refuse privatization by the whole people. So even the most perfect plan cannot be implemented."
Ivanov retorted, "So you didn't stop Luzhkov, and just stood by and watched? He was obstructed, but he was still able to continue his plan according to his own ideas. That's his ability, an ability you don't have!"
Ivanov pressed the handle, pushed open the door and got out of the car. He turned his head one last time to look at Punonin, his eyes filled with heartache. "Vlamikil, please look at yourself in the mirror. I can no longer see the confidence on your face. All I can see is anxiety and confusion."
He closed the car door and strode towards his own car.
Punonin sat in the car, like someone watching from outside a movie screen, watching him open the car door and get in, watching the high-class bulletproof limousine shoot off onto the road like an arrow and disappear into the Moscow night.
The tax police major sergeant slammed his fist on the steering wheel and started the car.
It's fortunate that Wang Xiao didn't see this scene, otherwise he would definitely have hallucinated the loss of his beloved wife.
Moreover, she lacks empathy and doesn't believe that the domineering CEO has discovered true love, which is why he humbled himself.
He lowered his head simply because he finally realized that he wasn't as powerful as he had imagined, and that he lacked the ability to control the other party.
What's wrong with a superior bowing their head temporarily for their own benefit? They'll surely get their money back with interest later.
Now, looking at Ivanov, who had just returned to the commercial street after a busy day, she felt a bit of pity for her young wife and urged her, "Hurry up and take a shower and go to bed."
Ivanov was still staring blankly at the moon outside the window when he blurted out out of the blue, "Do you think I can really run for parliament?"
Wang Xiao's heart is breaking.
Look what this damned Moscow has driven people to! A businessman with such humanity has been forced by wolves and tigers to run for a position like parliament—a position only inhuman beings should be qualified for.
She reached out and grabbed Ivanov's hand: "It's okay, if we don't want to do it, we don't have to. Don't make ourselves suffer."
“How can this be considered a grievance?” Ivanov smiled. “I’m going to take a shower; I’m almost stale.”
Wang Xiao raised her arm, sniffed herself, and thought, "Oh my god! She's going to spoil too."
After leaving the banquet, she didn't rest either; she still had to report to Secretary Fang.
She returned only ten minutes earlier than Ivanov.
Throughout the entire process, Wang Xiao never asked whether the Moscow city government was willing to transfer the technology.
Because it doesn't matter even if Mayor Luzhkov is unwilling.
Chinese businessmen were able to become shareholders in the Jill Truck Factory, revitalizing a large, struggling factory.
Aren't other factories envious? Don't they want to receive the same rain?
Production technology itself exists on the production line.
Its true owners are never bureaucrats sitting in their offices smoking cigars, but rather the oil-stained hands on the assembly line.
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[Shrug] Good morning! [Keep it up!]
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