Hong Kong films: From street thugs to Hong Kong financial tycoons

8 PM, The Peninsula Hotel.

A gentle sea breeze swept across Victoria Harbour under the night sky, but the atmosphere in front of the Peninsula Hotel was like a pot of boiling water, ready to explode at any moment.

Although Yaosheng Capital had given prior notice and hundreds of police cars had set up a long cordon around the perimeter.

But the paparazzi and financial reporters in Hong Kong, like sharks smelling blood, still crowded outside the police line, their long lenses flashing wildly.

There's no way around it, the scene tonight is just too damn scary!

"squeak--"

A stretched, bulletproof Lincoln pulled up smoothly in front of the red carpet at the hotel's main entrance.

The car door opened, and Intel's global president, Andy, stepped out with a grim face, a thick cigar dangling from his lips.

Following behind him were three elderly white men carrying silver briefcases; all three were Intel's top semiconductor physics experts.

"Mr. Andy, I never expected that even you would be alarmed by this absurd invitation."

A voice speaking English with a heavy accent came from the side.

Andy turned his head and saw Watanabe, the president of Toshiba, walking briskly with several Japanese engineers. Watanabe had an extremely hypocritical smile on his face, but his eyes revealed undisguised sarcasm.

"President Watanabe."

Andy snorted and exhaled a puff of smoke.

"I came to Hong Kong not to attend some damn technology summit, but to personally expose the century-old lie of an Asian fraudster."

"And let him know that provoking the great Silicon Valley will come at a price that will bankrupt him!"

"Haha, great minds think alike."

Watanabe pushed up his black-rimmed glasses, his face full of disdain.

"Our great Japanese Empire's semiconductor technology is currently unparalleled in the world, and even we are struggling to overcome the 1-micron barrier."

"This Hong Kong, which doesn't even have a single decent high-tech company, dares to claim it has developed 0.8 micrometers? It's practically insulting the intelligence of the entire world!"

"Let's go, let's bring our most sophisticated portable electron microscopes and take a good look at the industrial waste that Mr. Lin has carved out of plastic."

Two tech giants who usually fight tooth and nail in the business world have formed a rare united front due to their shared arrogance and prejudice.

Accompanied by their respective top expert teams and surrounded by a group of bodyguards, they strode confidently up the steps of the Peninsula Hotel.

However, the moment they pushed open the hotel's luxurious revolving glass door, their sneers froze instantly.

In the lobby, there were no welcoming ladies in cheongsams as I had imagined, nor was there any elegant piano music.

Instead, there was an extremely oppressive, almost suffocating atmosphere of terror and death.

Along the red carpet extending from the lobby to the banquet hall on the second floor, every two meters, stood a burly man with a crew cut, dressed in a pure black suit and wearing tactical communication headsets.

These people stood with their legs slightly apart and their hands hanging naturally at their waists. Their gazes, sharp as tangible blades, coldly swept over each of the foreign executives who entered the room.

The retired CIA bodyguards Andy brought tensed up instantly the moment they met the eyes of these burly men in black, and cold sweat broke out on their foreheads.

"Boss... something's not right."

The bodyguard captain lowered his voice and said in a trembling voice, almost touching Andy's ear, "These people are not ordinary security guards. The smell of blood on them is too strong. They are definitely suicide soldiers who have been on the battlefield."

"And they're definitely hiding powerful automatic weapons under their suits!"

Andy's heart skipped a beat as he recalled the terrifying rumor circulating among Wall Street executives about the bloody wooden crate delivery.

The ruthless man who dared to smash the bones of a corporate spy and send him back to New York is the host of today's banquet.

"What's the panic? This is Hong Kong, not a battlefield. Do you think he would dare kill us all in front of everyone?"

Andy tried to remain calm as he bit into his cigar, but his fingers holding the cigar began to tremble slightly uncontrollably.

A group of usually arrogant tech giants, now like lambs to the slaughter in a primeval jungle, reluctantly entered the enormous banquet hall on the second floor under the chilling gaze of hundreds of battle-hardened veterans.

Inside the banquet hall, the lights were so bright they were almost blinding.

There were no extra tables or chairs in the entire hall; in the center of the empty space, there was only the bulletproof glass display stand covered with red silk.

At the very front of the booth was a single, extremely large, throne-like mahogany armchair.

Lin Yao wasn't wearing a haute couture suit or an evening gown.

He was dressed in an extremely casual, even somewhat sloppy, white cotton casual outfit, and sat imposingly in that armchair.

Holding a purple clay teapot in his hand, he slowly sipped the tea from the spout.

Behind him, Chen Zheng, Lu Qiu, Peter, and more than a dozen core members of Yaosheng Technology lined up like a long snake, their aura extremely intimidating.

"Mr. Lin, what do you mean by this?!"

As soon as Andy entered, he saw that they hadn't even been provided with a chair, and he immediately felt extremely insulted. He strode to the booth and angrily pointed at Lin Yao.

"I turned down two multinational conferences worth hundreds of millions of dollars, flew for more than ten hours to get here, and you actually made us, a group of the world's top technology leaders, stand here like prisoners listening to you speak?"

Andy roared in exasperation.

Toshiba President Watanabe, his face also ashen, echoed in broken Chinese, "Mr. Lin, you Chinese have an old saying about hospitality. Your arrogant attitude is a serious provocation against the semiconductor industry of our Great Japanese Empire!"

Faced with the impotent rage of these tech giants, Lin Yao didn't even lift an eyelid.

He slowly finished his tea, then gently placed the teapot on the coffee table beside him, making a crisp clinking sound.

"Hospitality? That depends on whether you qualify as guests or not."

Lin Yao raised his head, and his deep, cold eyes, like an icy pool, reflected a chilling light that made one's heart tremble.

"I called you old folks all this way here, not to have tea and chat."

Lin Yao sat in the grand chair, leaning slightly forward. An absolute pressure, belonging to the dual tyrants of capital and technology, swept across the entire venue like a Category 12 hurricane.

"I'm here to deliver your death certificates."

The foreign executives in the room were all stunned by this extremely arrogant statement.

A death notice! Does this guy even know who he's standing in front of? These are the gods who monopolize the lifeline of humanity's information industry!

"You're insane! You're an utterly unreasonable lunatic!"

Andy was so angry he laughed. He suddenly waved his hand and pointed at the display stand covered with red silk.

"Stop bluffing. Didn't you claim to have developed a 0.8-micron chip? Show it to us!"

"If all you've got today is a piece of low-tech silicone junk, I guarantee that tomorrow Intel's legal team will make sure you lose everything in the international court."

"Since you're so eager to offer your face for me to hit, then I'll grant your wish."

Lin Yao chuckled and snapped his fingers at Lu Qiu behind him.

"Lu Qiu, lift it up and let these country bumpkins who have never seen the world open their eyes."

"Yes, boss!"

Lu Qiu was so excited that his face turned red. As a genius architect who had been ostracized by white people in Silicon Valley, being able to personally slap these former bosses in the face in Hong Kong today was more exhilarating than taking drugs.

Lu Qiu strode to the front of the booth and ripped off the piece of red silk.

In the center of the bulletproof glass case, on an exquisitely crafted black velvet tray, lies a round silicon wafer, eight inches in size, that refracts iridescent light under the lamplight.

That is the beauty of technology, the most dazzling jewel in the crown of human industry!

"Pshaw, it's just a cut silicon wafer. Who knows what's etched on it?"

President Watanabe curled his lip in disdain, turned around and waved to the Japanese experts behind him.

"Get the equipment up and magnify it ten thousand times! I want to see how they fake it!"

Not only Toshiba, but also the top physics experts brought by Intel and IBM pounced on them like hungry wolves.

They pulled out a state-of-the-art portable scanning electron microscope from the briefcase, firmly attached the probe to the bulletproof glass, connected it to a microcomputer screen, and began to conduct extremely rigorous microscopic inspections on the silicon wafer.

Andy stood aside with his arms crossed, sneering repeatedly. He had already prepared a hundred ways to mock Lin Yao, just waiting for the experts to give their verdict on the forgery. Then he could leave in a grand manner, nailing this Asian fraudster to the pillar of historical shame.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

The entire banquet hall was deathly silent, with only the extremely faint electronic buzzing of the microscope instruments.

Five seconds passed, and the Intel chief physics expert who was operating the instrument suddenly let out an extremely strange gasp, as if an invisible hand was tightly gripping his neck.

"Impossible... This is absolutely impossible..."

The old expert's body began to tremble violently, his old face almost pressed against the computer screen, and his sparse white hair shook wildly with his trembling.

"The edges of the photolithography, the precision of the wiring, no light leakage—a perfect etching process!"

As if he had lost his mind, the old expert suddenly pushed open the microscope, grabbed his hair tightly with both hands, and let out a shrill scream as if he had seen a ghost.

"My God, it's not 1 micrometer, it's 0.8, an extremely precise 800-nanometer process!"

"Moreover...moreover, the circuit logic on this isn't based on our x86 instruction set at all. It's a completely new, extremely streamlined and efficient underlying architecture that we've never seen before!"

Rumble!!!

The old expert's screams were like a series of thunderclaps exploding from the ground, triggering a super tsunami of level twelve in Andy and Watanabe's minds.

"What the hell are you talking about?!"

Andy's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He shoved aside the nearly collapsing old expert and rushed to the screen himself.

When his azure eyes looked through the extremely clear microscope screen and saw the densely packed, miraculously perfect 0.8-micron circuit diagrams etched onto the silicon wafer, he truly understood.

"Thump!"

The white CEO, who had held global semiconductor dominance for over a decade, suddenly collapsed onto the cold floor.

His lips trembled wildly, devoid of color, and all the arrogance and haughtiness in his eyes were shattered in that instant, replaced by a deep, soul-deep fear and despair.

"0.8 micrometers, a completely new instruction set architecture..."

Andy collapsed to the ground, muttering to himself in despair, as if the whole world had collapsed before his eyes.

"It's over, our multi-billion dollar production line is all turned into a pile of scrap metal..."

Meanwhile, Toshiba President Watanabe, who was standing next to him, rolled his eyes and fainted from fright.

Lin Yao sat in the armchair, looking down at the group of tech giants who had fallen from grace in an instant. He picked up his teacup and took a small sip.

"That sound is really pleasant to hear."