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

Chapter 94: Transoceanic Fax with Unfair Terms – Silicon Valley Tycoon's Mentality Collapses

Hong Kong, Central, headquarters of Yaosheng Capital.

Like a bear that had received a large jar of honey, Fatty Wang, clutching Lin Yao's casually agreed-upon sequel plan, left the president's office with profuse thanks.

When they left, they closed the door carefully, as if afraid of disturbing their boss's peaceful and strategic mind.

The office returned to silence. Lin Yao walked to the window, picked up a watering can, and slowly watered the precious Su Guan He Ding bonsai.

Water droplets dripped slowly down the emerald green leaves, hitting the soil with a soft sound.

His movements were so slow that if someone were watching, they might even find it torturous, but in Lin Yao's eyes, this was called cultivating inner strength.

In the financial markets, the worst thing you can do is to be impatient and impulsive.

The trap has been set, the net has been cast, and all that's left is to wait for the prey to run headlong into the net and die. If you rush to hurry them down now, you'll only be putting yourself at a disadvantage.

"A 30% ecological tax —"

Lin Yao put down the watering can, looked at the shimmering sea outside the window, and a playful smile appeared on his lips.

He understood this better than anyone else; what did it matter if he lost a little money on the hardware?

Once the rule of adding 30% commission to the Loongson system is established worldwide, even if he does nothing all day, as long as there are people on Earth using computers for work and games, they will have to obediently transfer money to Lin Yao's account.

This isn't business; this is seizing control of the global technology industry's money-printing power.

At the same time, across the ocean, in Silicon Valley, California, the headquarters of the giant unicorn graphics software company.

As the leading professional graphics processing software company in North America, Giant Unicorn has always been a force to be reckoned with in the industry.

Their president, Smith, is an arrogant white elite who, even when attending meetings at Microsoft or Apple headquarters, acts with his nose in the air and is incredibly conceited.

But today, the atmosphere in Smith's office was so tense it was almost suffocating.

Smith was wearing an expensive custom-made shirt, and his tie was loosely undone.

He paced back and forth behind his desk like a raging lion, his handmade leather shoes making a dull thud on the carpet.

"Beep beep beep squea quack quack"

The international fax machine in the corner suddenly rang, displaying an A4 sheet of paper with a dark gold dragon watermark from Yaosheng Technology.

It was slowly expelled by the machine.

The female secretary, who had been standing to the side barely daring to breathe, quickly ran over in her high heels, picked up the fax paper that still held the warmth of the ink, and glanced at the English title on it.

"Boss, boss—"

The female secretary's voice was trembling.

"We received a reply from Hong Kong; it was the 'Loongson Ecosystem Developer Agreement' sent by Yaosheng Technology."

Smith stopped abruptly, snatched the paper, and stared wide-eyed.

"Hmph, that Asian guy surnamed Lin finally replied!"

Smith sneered and plopped down in the large leather boss's chair.

"I've said it before: even if they develop that graphics system, ultimately they'll still have to rely on large software companies like us to develop applications for them, right?"

"Without our graphics software, all he could do with that crappy computer he bought would be play that zombie game!"

""

He muttered to himself as he looked down at the contents of the agreement.

"Firstly, the Loongson SDK development toolkit is available for free download worldwide —"

Upon seeing this, Smith paused for a moment, then burst into a maniacal laugh filled with a sense of superiority.

"Hahaha, I knew it. This Lin Yao is a country bumpkin in the hardware industry. He doesn't understand the rules of the software industry at all."

"He's even giving away core development tools like the SDK for free? He's desperate, trying to get us to quickly increase the number of applications on his system!"

The other executives nearby also breathed a sigh of relief and showed smug smiles.

"Yes, boss. Since he's giving it away for free, we'll reluctantly have our programmers work overtime for a month to port our software to the Loongson system."

"Consider it an act of charity, giving Asians some technical assistance."

Smith crossed his legs smugly, picked up the hot coffee on the table, took a sip, and continued scanning downwards.

"Secondly, all third-party software must undergo security certification by Yaosheng Technology —"

"Skip the normal nonsense."

Smith's gaze fell on the last paragraph of the fax paper, the third one.

"Article 3: Yaosheng Technology will unconditionally deduct 30% of all sales revenue generated globally from all third-party software developed based on the Loongson Windows system —"

"puff--!

""

Smith's mouthful of scalding hot coffee sprayed like a fountain all over the face of the executive opposite him.

"Cough cough cough, what is that?!"

Smith choked on his coffee and coughed violently, tears and snot streaming down his face. He wiped the coffee stains from his mouth, held the fax paper up to his eyes, and practically glued them to the paper.

Thirty percent, or is it an unconditional deduction from sales revenue?

He checked the 30% five times to make sure he hadn't misread the decimal point or was not hallucinating.

In an instant, Smith's entire body cracked open.

"Fuck, fuck squid!!!"

Smith sprang from his chair like a cat whose tail had been stepped on, grabbed the white porcelain coffee cup on the table, and smashed it against the wall.

With a bang, the cup shattered, and coffee splattered everywhere.

"Robbery! This is blatant robbery!"

Smith was yelling hysterically in the office, his face contorted with bulging veins, as red as a boiled pig's head.

"Who does Lin Yao think he is? We employ hundreds of top-notch programmers, we spend tens of millions on marketing, and we go out to find clients and provide after-sales service."

"What has Yaosheng Technology done? He just sits there and asks to take 30% of my gross profit?"

"This isn't business; this is writing robber logic into the contract. Does he really think he's God?"

The senior executives in the office were stunned when they saw the numbers on the agreement.

Taking a 30% cut of their turnover is practically like drinking their blood, eating their flesh, and then using their bones to make soup.

While the software industry boasts high profit margins, it can't withstand having a third of its major resources cut off right from the start.

"Boss, this absolutely cannot be signed!"

A bearded executive, his face flushed, shouted, "This is an absolute disgrace! If we sign this, how will we ever be able to hold our heads high in Silicon Valley again?"

"We work so hard to earn a hundred yuan, and we still have to kowtow to Lin Yao and pay him thirty yuan in protection money? Why should we!"

"Yes, we won't sign!"

Smith was so angry he was trembling and slammed his hand on the desk.

"Call the company's legal department immediately. I'm going to sue them. I'm going to file a lawsuit against Yaosheng Technology in federal court for monopolistic practices. I'll make their unfair terms and conditions completely worthless in the United States!"

Just as Smith was clamoring to assemble a legal team and prepare to fight Yaosheng Technology to the death.

"Bang!"

The solid wood door to the office was suddenly kicked open from the outside.

The sales director of Giant Unicorn Company, a middle-aged, overweight man who usually wore a suit and had slicked-back hair, rushed in as if he had been pulled out of the water, covered in sweat.

"Boss, something terrible has happened!"

The sales director leaned against the door frame, panting heavily, clutching a newly compiled weekly sales report tightly in his hand.

Smith, already furious, turned and yelled, "Can't you see I'm angry? Even if the sky falls, wait a minute!"

"Boss—the sky has truly fallen—"

The sales director swallowed hard, his legs went weak, and he slumped onto the sofa. His eyes were vacant, and his voice carried a chilling despair.

"Boss, our sales figures for the North American region have dropped to zero for the past three days."

The office fell into a deathly silence.

"What did you say?"

Smith froze, his anger frozen in mid-air, looking somewhat comical. He wondered if there was something wrong with his ears.

"It's back to zero."

The sales director held up the financial report in his hand, his hand trembling.

"Not only have new orders dropped to zero, but all three hundred large enterprise procurement contracts that we had already negotiated and were scheduled to be delivered next month have been unilaterally cancelled by our clients in the past 48 hours."

"How is this possible?!"

Smith rushed over and grabbed the sales director by the collar.

"They don't use drawing software anymore. What do they use to work? Do they draw by hand?"

"They don't use our DOS version anymore."

The sales director had a long face.

"Those business owners said that their companies had just switched to Loongson microcomputers from Yaosheng Technology yesterday. The employees had used the graphical interface and mouse operation, and no one wanted to memorize those complicated keyboard commands anymore."

"The client said that if we cannot provide a Windows version of the software that can run perfectly on the Loongson system within a month, they will switch entirely to another micro studio called Pixelpoint."

"Pixels?"

Smith's eyes widened.

"That makeshift team with less than ten people, what right do they have to compete with us for clients?"

"Boss, they may be few in number, but they're obedient."

The sales director was almost in tears.

"I just asked around and found out that the studio got the free SDK toolkit for Loongson last night."

"Their boss signed the 30% commission agreement overnight and is now leading a few people to work frantically to develop the Loongson version of the drawing software."

"Customers don't care how advanced our technology is; all they care about is whether they can open the drawing icon on the Loongson system!"

Boom!

These words struck Smith like a bolt from the blue.

He loosened the sales director's collar and staggered back two steps like a deflated balloon.

He finally understood why Lin Yao dared to so blatantly write down the outrageous figure of 30% in the contract.

Because Lin Yao wasn't afraid of them not signing. The terrifying sales of 300,000 Loongson microcomputers had completely changed users' operating habits in just a few days. This was a bottom-up coup.

You won't sign?

Yes, some small companies that are on the verge of bankruptcy are willing to sign.

Once others establish themselves in Loongson's ecosystem, even if their products are terrible, they can still outlast these old-era giants who are stuck with the DOS system by relying on the smoothness of their systems.

Lin Yao didn't force them to pay with a knife. He simply held the knife to their necks and then smiled as he handed them a pen.

This is a blatant conspiracy, a massacre that shows no regard for reason!

Smith slowly turned his head and looked at the "Loongson Ecosystem Developer Agreement" on the table, which was stained with coffee.

That thin sheet of fax paper felt as heavy as a mountain to him at that moment.

If they don't sign, the company won't even be able to pay its employees' salaries next month and will have to close down.

If I sign, I'll have to be a slave to that young capitalist in Hong Kong every single day from now on.

Smith slowly walked to his desk, his movements as stiff as a seventy or eighty-year-old man.

With trembling hands, he pulled the gold pen he usually used to sign multi-million dollar deals from the pen holder.

The pen tip kept slipping on the paper, and it took Smith a whole minute to finally sign his name in a crooked and awkward way.

The moment he finished signing, his hand loosened, and the gold pen fell onto the table and rolled into the carpet.

"Send it over—"

Smith closed his eyes, squeezing out two tears of humiliation from the corners of his eyes, his voice hoarse and completely distorted.

"Give all the programmers in the company a death order: they must finish the software even if they have to sleep at the office—"

"We—give up."

And the same scene is playing out repeatedly in major software companies throughout Silicon Valley, Seattle, and even Europe on this day.

Those once arrogant tech giants, faced with this flimsy fax, finally lowered their heads, lined up, and signed the agreement, essentially selling themselves into servitude.

An invisible, trillion-dollar ecological web, under Lin Yao's leisurely pace, has finally locked down the entire world.