Great Power Reclamation

Negotiations for ports in Southeast Asia are stuck in the final step. It's not that they can't agree on a price; it's that the other side has changed its negotiating representative.

The person who had been getting along well with me was suddenly transferred, and a new one came in. His surname was Chen, he had a Chinese face, spoke fluent English, but his attitude was much tougher than his predecessor's.

The new representative immediately overturned all the previously agreed-upon terms, saying they wanted to start over.

Ye Guigen sat on one side of the conference table, listened to the other party finish speaking, did not refute, picked up the water glass in front of him, took a sip, put it down, and then asked:
"Mr. Chen, may I ask where you previously worked?"

The other person was taken aback, not expecting him to ask that, and hesitated for a moment before saying, "I work as a regional director at XX Shipping Company."

Ye Guigen nodded and didn't press further. He stood up:

"Mr. Chen, that's all for today. I'll take a look at your new proposal when I get back."

A hint of surprise flashed across the other person's face, probably not expecting him to accept so readily. Ye Guigen turned and walked out, with Yang Chenglong following behind him.

The two returned to the hotel, closed the door, and Ye Guigen sat on the sofa, tossing the documents he had obtained at the meeting onto the coffee table.

"He works for that French shipping group."

Yang Chenglong was taken aback: "Didn't you say that French shipping group had already suffered a setback in East Africa? How dare they still reach out?"

“They have connections in Southeast Asia. This Mr. Chen was probably temporarily transferred here specifically to cause trouble.”

He paused for a moment, then said, "The other side doesn't want us to get the port, but they also don't want to openly break ties, so they sent someone else to buy time by renegotiating."

Yang Chenglong clenched his fists: "Then what do we do? Just wait it out with them?"

Ye Guigen leaned back on the sofa with his eyes closed: "Wait it out, that's a bad strategy. If they want to drag it out, we can't let them."

He opened his eyes, picked up his phone, and dialed a number. The phone rang a few times before being answered. Ye Guigen said into the phone:
"Uncle Lin, help me investigate someone named Chen Moumou. He's currently a port negotiation representative for XX country. Investigate his background, the more detailed the better, especially his relationship with his current company."

After hanging up the phone, Ye Guigen put it down and looked at Yang Chenglong:
"Strike at his vital point. His vital point is the contract. He signed a non-compete agreement with his former employer. If what he's doing now violates that agreement, his former employer can sue him. Once a lawsuit is filed on his desk, can he still sit at the negotiating table and waste time with us?"

Yang Chenglong looked at him, remained silent for a moment, and then smiled: "You already investigated, didn't you?"

Ye Guigen did not deny it: "I haven't checked. But I guessed it. His posture at the negotiating table was too upright, like a steel ruler. He didn't lean back in his chair, drink a drop of water, or unbutton his suit from beginning to end. A person who controls even his posture so meticulously is not here to do business, but to carry out a mission."

"His mission is to stall us until we miss our other targets, until we can't hold on any longer and have to give up on the port."

Yang Chenglong thought for a moment: "So what do you plan to do?"

Ye Guigen said, "Wait for Uncle Lin's news. Once we get the news, we'll go talk to his boss. Not about the port, but about this person."

Uncle Lin's message arrived that very evening. Ye Guigen's guess was absolutely correct: Mr. Chen had signed a two-year non-compete agreement, and his new position as a port negotiation representative happened to be right on the red line of that agreement.

Ye Guigen looked through the scanned copy of the agreement, then made a phone call. The call was to the CEO of the French shipping group.

The other end of the phone was Chinese. After a moment of silence, he said, "Mr. Ye, what do you want?"

Ye Guigen said, “I don’t want anything. Your man is stalling for time at my negotiating table. If you transfer him back, I’ll continue negotiating. If you don’t, I’ll send this non-compete agreement to his new boss. He’ll lose his job, and you won’t benefit either. It’s a lose-lose situation, there’s no need for that.”

The other party remained silent for a long time before saying, "Mr. Ye, you win. I'll move my people. I won't interfere in the port matters anymore."

Ye Guigen didn't say thank you and hung up the phone. Yang Chenglong, who had listened to the whole thing, asked, "He agreed?"

Ye Guigen put down his phone: "I agree. Negotiations will continue tomorrow. This time, no one will delay."

The next day, the original representative returned to the negotiating table. The other party politely apologized to Ye Guigen, saying that the previous personnel changes were "temporary adjustments" and had now been resolved.

Ye Guigen didn't mention the non-compete agreement or the French shipping group. He sat in the conference room, went over the previously agreed terms again, confirmed there were no problems, and then signed the agreement.

Yang Chenglong sat beside him, remaining silent throughout. Only after they left the meeting room and reached the parking lot did he speak:
"Given the truth, did you not sleep at all last night?"

Ye Guigen opened the car door: "She's asleep. She slept for four hours."

Yang Chenglong looked at the bloodshot in his eyes: "Is four hours enough?"

Ye Guigen got into the car but did not answer the question:

"Next destination, South America. Flight early tomorrow morning. Go back and pack your things."

Yang Chenglong closed the car door, walked around to the driver's seat, sat down, and remained silent for a while without starting the car. "Back to the roots."

"Ah."

"Next time you do something like this, call me."

Ye Guigen turned to look at him. Yang Chenglong's face was half-lit and half-shadowed by the streetlights outside the car window.

“I’m not here to be your follower. I’m here to work alongside you. You do your thing, I’ll do mine. You think, I’ll do. When it’s time to get physical, let me handle it. You’re too green for a fight.”

Ye Guigen looked at him for a few seconds, then said, "Okay. Next time you make a move, you go first."

Yang Chenglong started the car: "That's more like it." The car drove out of the parking lot and merged into the traffic in the night.

The plane landed in South America at four in the morning local time. Ye Guigen looked out the window and saw the airport runway lit up in the night, like a glowing ribbon.

He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, and heard Yang Chenglong ask him from beside him, "Are you asleep?"

Ye Guigen said, "No. I'm thinking about something."

Yang Chenglong asked, "What are you thinking about?"

Ye Guigen opened his eyes: "Think about this port. It's bigger than the one in Southeast Asia, and the competition is much fiercer."

Yang Chenglong said, "I'm not afraid of intensity. You're in charge of the calculations, and I'll handle the action."

Ye Guigen turned to look at him. Yang Chenglong's hair was a mess from the cabin air conditioning, and his face showed signs of fatigue from the long flight, but his eyes were bright.

Ye Guigen was silent for a moment, then said, "Jackie Chan, your grandfather is right."

Yang Chenglong was taken aback: "What do you mean?"

He said, "You're right to follow me."

Yang Chenglong didn't reply and closed his eyes. The cabin fell silent, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning. The plane taxied down the runway, slowing further and further until it came to a stop, and the cabin door opened.

A hot, salty wind swept in from South America. Ye Guigen stood up: "Let's go. Let's get to work."

The flight to South America landed at around 5 a.m. local time. It was still dark, and the airport lights were so bright they made my eyes water.

Yang Chenglong walked behind Ye Guigen, dragging two suitcases, one his own and one Ye Guigen's. Ye Guigen carried only a briefcase containing maps, draft agreements, and several bank credit certificates.

Yang Chenglong asked him, "Why don't you drag the suitcase yourself?"

Ye Guigen didn't even turn his head: "Because you're here to work, not to be the boss."

Yang Chenglong wanted to refute it, but found he couldn't, because it was the truth. He was there to work, not to be a boss. He dragged two suitcases behind him as they exited the airport.

A pickup truck came to pick them up, with two locals sitting in the back, wearing straw hats and grinning at them.

The driver was a chubby middle-aged man wearing a wrinkled shirt. He spoke in heavily accented English: "Mr. Ye? I'm from the port. Get in."

Ye Guigen glanced at the pickup truck, then at the two people in the truck bed, and without hesitation, opened the passenger door and got in.

Yang Chenglong threw two suitcases into the truck bed, climbed up, and sat between the two locals.

The car started moving, and it bumped along the way, throwing Yang Chenglong around. He was hit on the left and then on the right. A local on his left helped him up and said something in Spanish.

Yang Chenglong couldn't understand it, but he felt that the tone was saying "be careful".

He said "thank you".

The other person replied in Spanish, but Yang Chenglong still couldn't understand, so he smiled at him. The other person smiled back.

The port is to the south, a nearly two-hour drive away. The road is all dirt, full of potholes, and the pickup truck's suspension was long gone. Every time we went over a pothole, the people in the truck bed were thrown up like they were being ejected.

Yang Chenglong was jostled around until he was completely disoriented. The local man on his left saw that he was pale, patted him on the shoulder, and said a long string of Spanish.

Yang Chenglong took out his phone and opened a translation app. The other person spoke into the phone, and a line of text appeared on the screen:

"You'll get used to it."

Yang Chenglong turned the screen over to show him. After watching it, the other man burst into laughter and slapped him again, almost knocking him off the truck bed.

Upon arriving at the port, the negotiations went more smoothly than expected. Unlike Europeans, South Americans weren't in a hurry to look at the documents or discuss the terms; they ate first.

The hotel restaurant is large and tastefully decorated, with a wide variety of dishes on the tables, including red wine, roast meat, salad, and fruit.

The representative of the local port company was a man in his fifties named Rodriguez. He had a large beard, a round belly, and liked to slap the table when he spoke.

He said to Ye Guigen and Yang Chenglong in English, "Let's not talk business today. Let's eat first. We'll talk again tomorrow after we've eaten our fill."

Ye Guigen glanced at the bottle of red wine on the table, then at the smile on Rodriguez's face, and said, "Okay." Then he sat down.

The meal lasted three hours. Rodriguez ordered a lot of dishes: roast beef, roast lamb, roast sausage, roast corn, and a large plate of fried bananas.

While eating, he told Ye Guigen and Yang Chenglong about the history of the port and how it developed from a small fishing village into what it is today.

Getting carried away with the conversation, he even raised his glass to clink with Ye Guigen's and said a sentence in Spanish. The translator whispered beside him:
"Mr. Rodriguez said, 'This toast is to our friends who have come from afar.'"

Ye Guigen picked up his wine glass, took a sip, put it down, and then continued cutting the roast meat on his plate as if nothing had happened, pretending not to notice that the glass of wine opposite him had been forced down his throat.

Yang Chenglong wasn't as cunning as Ye Guigen. He drank the wine Rodriguez brought him, and his face turned red after a round of drinks.

Seeing that he could drink a lot, Rodriguez patted him on the shoulder and said in English:
"You're great! I trust you when we talk business tomorrow!"

Yang Chenglong, his face flushed and neck red, glanced at Ye Guigen. Ye Guigen was slowly and methodically slicing a piece of roasted meat, as if he were machining a precision instrument, calculating the angle of each cut.

Yang Chenglong wanted to ask him for help, but he didn't respond. He could only grin at Rodriguez:
“We’ll talk tomorrow. I trust you.” Rodriguez laughed heartily and poured him another glass.

After returning to the hotel after dinner, Yang Chenglong walked unsteadily. Ye Guigen, walking ahead, glanced back at him:
"Did you drink too much?"

Yang Chenglong leaned against the wall: "He said he wanted to offer a toast, so I couldn't refuse."

Ye Guigen didn't speak, but pushed open his door: "You'll sit next to me during tomorrow's negotiations. Talk less. Listen more. Don't nod if you don't understand. Once you get carried away, you won't be able to tell if the other party is sincere or not."

Yang Chenglong said, "Then you help me fend off the drinks."

Ye Guigen said, "I can't handle the alcohol. I have a bad stomach. But you go ahead, you can handle it."

Yang Chenglong did not refute, and leaned against the wall to return to his room.

The next day during the negotiations, Yang Chenglong indeed sat properly, with his hands on his knees and his back straight, like a newly planted poplar tree.

Rodriguez glanced at him and smiled: "How was your drinking yesterday?"

Yang Chenglong said, "Very good. Thank you for the hospitality."

Rodriguez nodded, then turned to Ye Guigen:
"Mr. Ye, your friend is an interesting person."

Ye Guigen said, "He is my partner."

Rodriguez said, "Partner? He drinks more than you do."

Ye Guigen ignored that remark, pushed the draft agreement aside, and casually moved on to the main topic.

The negotiations lasted for several days. The price, the terms, and the delivery time were all agreed upon, but one detail remained unresolved—the funding ratio for the port expansion. Both sides held their own opinions, and neither could convince the other.

Rodriguez insisted on increasing his share of the investment in the expansion, arguing that it was a way to maintain control.

Ye Guigen believes that this ratio exceeds a reasonable range, and the local government simply cannot afford such a large amount of money.

The two people sat in the conference room, one speaking English and the other Spanish, with the translator relaying the messages between them, sweating profusely as he did so.

Yang Chenglong sat next to Ye Guigen, watching the back-and-forth struggle all day, and finally couldn't sit still any longer.

He stood up, walked over to Rodriguez, took a bank card from his pocket, and placed it on the table. The card, given to him by Yang Geyong, contained all his savings.

Yang Chenglong pushed the card in front of him and said in broken English:

"This is my money. If it's not enough, I have more. I'll make up whatever amount you need."

Rodriguez looked at the card, then at Yang Chenglong. Yang Chenglong's gaze was calm, like a still lake in the Gobi Desert.

Ye Guigen remained seated, neither stopping him nor offering an explanation. Because Yang Chenglong, using the most foolish method, uttered the most valuable words.

Rodriguez was silent for a moment, then smiled and pushed the card back:
"I don't need your money. I've seen your attitude. I'll compromise on the proportion of investment for the expansion."

He took the draft agreement and signed his crooked Spanish name in the "Shareholding Ratio" column: "Happy cooperation."

As Yang Chenglong left the meeting room, he asked Ye Guigen:
Was I too impulsive just now?

Ye Guigen said, "Yes."

Yang Chenglong said, "Then why didn't you stop me?"

Ye Guigen said, "Because you acted impulsively, and he gave in."

He paused for a moment: "Next time before you act impulsively, give me a look first. If I can't read your mind, then go ahead and do it."

Yang Chenglong thought for a moment and said, "Okay."

Then he asked, "What does your eye color look like?"

Ye Guigen glanced at him: "That was the one just now."

Yang Chenglong didn't press the matter, because he hadn't seen it at all. (End of Chapter)