Chapter 493: Advancing Functional Phones

November 18, 2000, the coldest morning since winter began in Shenzhen.

In the conference room of Building No. 3 at the Nanshan R&D Center, the heating was turned up high, and a thin layer of mist clung to the floor‑to‑ceiling windows.

Through the haze, the outline of Fenghuang Mountain in the distance could be seen, looking in the morning light like a coiled giant beast.

Only eight people sat around the long conference table.

Li Yaozong sat in the head seat, a thick report spread out before him.

To his right was Zhang Wei, the fifty‑year‑old head of the chip division, with the projector's light reflecting off his lenses.

To his left was Xu Jiaming, the head of the electronics plant, twirling a worn‑out Hero fountain pen in his hand.

Further down were a few young faces — Zhao Ming from the software department, in his early thirties, wearing black‑framed glasses; Liu Jianguo from the communications department, forty, his hair already half white; and Chen Feng from the chip design team, just past thirty, with bloodshot eyes from sleepless overtime.

Li Yaozong looked around and spoke.

"Everyone, I've called you here today for one matter."

He paused, then nudged the report forward.

"Wanshang, we need to make a functional phone."

The conference room fell silent for a few seconds.

No one was surprised.

Because everyone present knew that this day would come sooner or later.

Since Li Ping'an set the "Five‑Year Plan" in 1993, Wanshang has been paving the way for this day. Chips, systems, communication modules, display drivers… piece by piece, the puzzle has been assembled for seven years.

Zhang Wei adjusted his glasses.

"Director Li, our embedded processor completed tape‑out at the end of last year, and its performance already matches the international mainstream level from five years ago. Put it in a phone, it can easily run the system and handle calls."

Xu Jiaming replied, "We've been working on a miniaturized version of the Pangu system for two years. It's called 'Pangu‑M', optimized for mobile devices, with a small memory footprint and fast startup."

Liu Jianguo's voice was steady: "On the communications module side, the RF front‑end design is finished, and the baseband chip is under test. We've been working on the Xiaolingtong for two years, and the technical base is sufficient."

Li Yaozong listened to each of them finish, then nodded.

"What else are we missing?"

The conference room was silent for a few seconds.

Zhang Wei spoke.

"We lack integration."

He stood up, walked to the whiteboard, and picked up a marker.

"The chips are ours, the system is ours, the communications module is ours. Yet these components have never been run together in a single box."

He drew a large circle on the whiteboard, then several smaller circles inside it, "Display, battery, antenna, camera, speaker, microphone, charger, buttons, Now we need to output lines: English input method… each is a separate component; they must be assembled to be functional, attractive, and inexpensive."

He turned around and looked at Li Yaozong.

"Director Li, making a phone isn't about making parts. It's about making a product."

Li Yaozong did not speak immediately.

He stared at the circles on the whiteboard, recalling a saying his father often repeated.

"Making a product means turning a bunch of other people's stuff into your own."

Now it was his turn to turn a bunch of his own things into a real product.

"Uncle Zhang is right," he said, "Integration is what we lack the most."

He looked at those young faces.

"Zhao Ming, you handle the software side, speak up."

Zhao Ming cleared his throat and opened the laptop before him.

"Director Li, everyone, our software department has done a review during this period."

He brought up a diagram, "Mobile software has three layers. The bottom layer is the operating system—we have Pangu‑M. The middle layer is the application framework, which we're still building. The top layer is applications: making calls, sending texts, contacts, alarms…"

He paused.

"For the application layer, we have to start from scratch."

Li Yaozong nodded.

"How many people are needed?"

Zhao Ming thought for a moment.

"We can pull three people from the operating system side, and at least five more for applications. Eight in total, half a year, and we can get the basic apps running."

Li Yaozong looked at Xu Jiaming.

Xu Jiaming adjusted his glasses.

"Reassigning staff is no problem,"

"Jiaming," Li Yaozong interrupted, "the phone is the group's five‑year strategic plan. If we lack manpower, we'll hire, offer high salaries, benefits—are you afraid no one will come?"

Chen Feng had remained silent.

He is the head of the chip design team and the youngest person present today. Thirty years old, a Tsinghua PhD, he has worked with Zhang Wei for five years, moving from embedded processors to mobile baseband chips.

Li Yaozong looked at him.

"Chen Feng, what do you have to say?"

Chen Feng lifted his head and hesitated.

"Director Li, what I have to say may not be good news."

Li Yaozong did not frown, just waited for him to continue.

"Our baseband chip," Chen Feng's voice was a bit hoarse, "the test results… are not very satisfactory."

The atmosphere in the conference room suddenly grew heavier for a few moments.

Zhang Wei looked at him.

"What's not ideal?"

Chen Feng flipped open the document in front of him.

"Power consumption. It's fine on standby, but the heat spikes when making a call. We compared with the Xiaolingtong module; for the same one‑hour call, our temperature is five degrees higher than theirs."

He paused.

"Also the RF reception sensitivity. In weak‑signal environments, our call‑drop rate is higher than that of imported chips."

Li Yaozong was silent for a few seconds.

"Can it be solved?"

Chen Feng nodded.

"It can. But it needs time, needs testing, needs… re‑tape‑out."

Re‑tape‑out.

Everyone present understood the weight of those three words. One tape‑out costs several hundred thousand. A design revision takes a few months.

But Li Yaozong did not hesitate.

"Then proceed with the tape‑out," he said, "no money can be saved."

He looked at Chen Feng.

"How long will it take?"

Chen Feng thought for a moment.

"Design revision, three months. Tape‑out, two months. Testing, two months. If all goes well, mid‑next year."

Li Yaozong nodded.

"Then mid‑next year."

He paused.

"But the other parts cannot wait."

The sun rose outside the window.

The mist cleared, and the outline of Fenghuang Mountain became increasingly distinct. Below, traffic on Shen Nan Avenue grew dense, and a new day began.

Li Yaozong stood up and walked to the whiteboard.

He picked up a pen and drew three horizontal lines over the cluster of circles.

"Our mobile phones are divided into three tiers."

On the top line he wrote a word: Premium.

"Premium devices use the best chips, the best screen, the best camera. They can take photos, play music, store a few hundred messages, and swap memory cards. Price can be a bit higher; the key is to make them well and refined."

On the middle line he wrote a word: Mid‑range.

"Mid‑range devices just need adequate performance. Use our own chips, domestic screens, and the camera can be a bit inferior. The price must be cut down."

On the bottom line he wrote a word: Budget.

"Budget devices are basic phones. They can make calls, send texts, have long standby, and are rugged. The price should be around seven to eight hundred yuan."

He put down the pen and turned around.

"High, mid, and low tiers cover the whole market. This is the future of Wanshang mobile phones."

In the conference room, no one spoke.

But everyone's gaze changed.

Liu Jianguo was the first to speak.

"President Li, on the communication module side, the Xiaolingtong production line can be modified. The RF front‑end design can be optimized together with the chip."

Li Yaozong nodded.

"Uncle Jianguo, you'll lead the communication module. If anything's needed, go straight to Uncle Zhang or Jia Ming."

Liu Jianguo nodded.

Zhao Ming raised his hand.

"President Li, on the software side, there's an issue."

"Go on."

"App store," Zhao Ming said, "Our phones need to be able to install apps—games, e‑books, etc. But where do the apps come from? Do we develop them ourselves or have others do it?"

Li Yaozong thought for a moment.

"First we'll make a few ourselves, like Snake, Tetris, simple ones," he said. "When the user base grows, we'll consider other approaches."

He paused.

"Also, basic apps—messages, contacts, alarm, calendar…—must be extremely user‑friendly. Users should feel it's smooth the moment they start."

Zhao Ming nodded.

Chen Feng was still flipping through that test report.

Li Yaozong walked over and stood beside him.

"Chen Feng."

Chen Feng looked up.

"Do you have a clear grasp of the chip matter?"

Chen Feng was silent for two seconds.

"Got it."

Li Yaozong looked at him.

"Good. I'll believe that statement of yours."

The meeting went on until noon.

Sunlight outside the window was brilliant, lighting up the whole meeting room. The water condensation on the glass had long dried, and the outline of Fenghuang Mountain was clear as if drawn on.

Li Yaozong finally glanced at the circles and lines on the whiteboard.

Seven years.

From 1993, when Father set the 'five-year plan,' to today, exactly seven years.

The core element was ready. The system was ready. The communication module was ready. The software team was ready. The hardware team was ready.

Now, only the final step remains.

"Everyone," he returned to his seat, "today's meeting will end here."

He looked around.

"After you go back, write a detailed plan for the part you each are responsible for—time, milestones, manpower, budget, all must be included."

He paused.

"In a week, let's meet again. By then, I want to see a feasible plan."

Zhang Wei pushed his glasses.

"Manager Li, the budget—"

"The budget isn't a problem," Li Yaozong said, "but every penny must be spent where it counts."

He stood up.

"Adjourn."

People left one after another.

Only Li Yaozong remained in the meeting room.

He stood by the window, looking out at Shenzhen.

From graduating college to working, from running errands for Father to sitting alone in this meeting room.

He recalled the words Father often said.

"Yaozong, remember—running a business is like walking a tightrope. Look ahead, not down."

He smiled.

Looking down is an abyss.

Looking ahead is a road no one has walked yet.

On this road of mobile phones, Wanshang has walked seven years to get to today.

He didn't know how much farther they had to go.

But he knew they had to go on.

Evening. Li Yaozong returned home.

On the dinner table sat a bowl of red-braised pork, still steaming.

Beside it was pressed a note:

"Yaozong, eat while it's hot."

Li Yaozong sat down and picked up his chopsticks.

The red-braised pork was stewed to perfection, fatty but not greasy, his wife's cooking.

He ate slowly, his mind still turning over the day's meeting.

Core element, power consumption, baseband, radio frequency, software, applications, screen, battery, camera.

One by one, they passed through his mind.

Halfway through his meal, the phone rang.

It was Zhang Wei.

"Manager Li, there's something I forgot to mention earlier."

"Go ahead."

"Should we give our phone a name?" Zhang Wei's voice carried a hint of a smile, "We can't just call it the 'Wanshang phone,' can we?"

Li Yaozong froze for a moment.

He thought about it.

"What should we call it?"

Zhang Wei stayed silent for two seconds.

"I've thought of one—listen."

"Go ahead."

"Phoenix."

Li Yaozong's hand paused.

Phoenix.

Phoenix, reborn from fire.

He held the phone, silent for a few seconds.

"Good," he said, "let's call it Phoenix."

He hung up.

He looked at the half bowl of rice left in the bowl and suddenly laughed.

Laughing, his eyes grew a little warm.

Late at night, Li Yaozong sat at his desk.

He took out the five-year plan his father had handwritten seven years ago and turned to the last page.

On that page was only one line:

"Once the chips are made, we'll make phones. Once the phones are made, we'll make something else. Step by step, don't stop."

He gently placed that sheet back into the drawer.

Then he took out a fresh sheet of white paper and picked up his pen.

He wrote a heading:

Wanshang Mobile Product Plan (2000-2003)

Below is the first item:

"1. Product positioning: high, medium, and low tiers, covering the entire market."

He continued writing.

The pen tip rustled on the white paper, like the footsteps of this era.

Outside the window, Shenzhen's night was deepening.

In the distance, the lights of the Nanshan R&D Center were still on.

Under those lights, people were pulling all‑nighters, debugging, and testing.

Turning seven years of accumulation into a machine that can be held in the palm of the hand.

Li Yaozong finished the last character and set down his pen.

He stood up and walked to the window.

Looking at those distant lights, he whispered:

"Dad, we're starting."