Chapter 495: Fenghuang

September 2001, Shenzhen.

In front of the Fenghuang Phone exclusive store, the long queue stretched from six in the morning until three in the afternoon without dispersing.

Scalpers weaved through the crowd, clutching thick bundles of cash, asking each passerby, "Will you buy? Add two hundred."

On the store shelves, the three silver‑gray phone models had only a few units left. The salesperson's throat was already hoarse, yet he strained his neck and shouted, "Fenghuang-2 is sold out! Fenghuang-3 has three left—grab them quickly!"

From the March launch to now, half a year has passed.

Fenghuang Phone sold 2.3 million units.

Two point three million.

Motorola has been in China for eight years before reaching that figure.

Fenghuang did it in just half a year.

Li Yaozong stood on the overpass opposite the exclusive store, watching the long queue with no smile on his face. He clutched a report just delivered from the sales department and an urgent notice that had been sent overnight from the R&D Center.

The numbers on the report were impressive. The contents of the notice left no room for laughter.

"President Li," Zhou Wenbin said on a Telephone from Hong Kong, his voice three tones deeper than usual, "Representatives from Motorola and Nokia met yesterday. Today, both of their China‑region CEOs have arrived in Beijing."

Li Yaozong held the Telephone without speaking.

"They…" Zhou Wenbin paused, "might cooperate."

September 20, Motorola announced a fifteen percent price cut across all its products.

Two days later, Nokia followed suit, cutting prices by eighteen percent.

Three days after that, Siemens, Ericsson, Alcatel… all foreign mobile phone brands operating in China, as if prearranged, collectively lowered their prices.

On the market, phones that originally sold for over two thousand dropped to eighteen hundred overnight.

Those that were fifteen hundred fell to twelve hundred.

Those priced at nine hundred ninety fell to seven hundred ninety‑nine.

The price war has begun.

In front of the Fenghuang Phone exclusive store's counter, fewer people were queuing. The scalpers vanished. The salesperson, now idle, stood at the doorway staring blankly.

Li Yaozong sat in the conference room, where the report before him had been replaced. On the new report, a glaring red arrow pointed down: in the last week of September, sales fell thirty‑two percent month‑over‑month.

Xu Jiaming adjusted his glasses, his voice hoarse.

"President Li, our Fenghuang-2 costs nine hundred two. Motorola's phones in that tier now sell for twelve hundred; if we follow suit and cut price, Fenghuang-2 could only sell for nine hundred ninety, earning sixty‑seven per unit."

He paused.

"If we don't cut, sales…"

He didn't finish. Everyone understood.

He Xiao asked in a low voice, "Can we squeeze the cost further?"

Zhang Wei shook his head.

"We can't push it down any more. The chips, screens, and batteries are all made by us; profit is already at the lowest. Press further and quality will suffer."

The conference room fell into silence.

Outside the window, September's sunshine remained brilliant, yet it could not penetrate the room.

Li Yaozong stood up and walked to the window.

He recalled a sentence his father had once said.

"A price war is the weak's last move and the strong's first test."

The test has arrived.

The silence lingered for a long time.

Then Li Yaozong turned around.

There was no anxiety or frustration on his face, only a strange calm.

"Everyone," he said, "I want to change our approach."

Everyone stared at him.

"They're waging a price war at our doorstep," Li Yaozong's voice was low but each word clear, "why can't we fight them at theirs?"

Xu Jiaming was stunned.

"President Li, you mean…"

"The European and American markets," Li Yaozong walked back to the table, hand pressing on the report, "Motorola cuts prices in China to protect its market. Nokia follows so it isn't devoured. Yet their main bases—the United States and Europe—are where their lifeblood lies."

He looked at Zhang Wei.

"Uncle Zhang, can we produce an English version of the Fenghuang Phone?"

Zhang Wei adjusted his glasses and was silent for three seconds.

"We can."

"How long will it take?"

"The system needs a new language pack, the input method must be altered, network standards adjusted, chargers need different plugs…" Zhang Wei ran through it mentally, "Three months, we can produce a prototype."

Li Yaozong nodded.

He turned his gaze back to Xu Jiaming.

"Jiaming, how long to finish the English operation manual, user guide, and packaging?"

Xu Jiaming thought for a moment.

"Design the content, one month."

Li Yaozong looked again at Zhou Wenbin.

"Uncle Wenbin, can we open the European and American sales channels?"

Zhou Wenbin gave a wry smile.

"Mr. Li, that's someone else's territory. Getting in isn't that easy."

"I know," Li Yaozong said, "but we have to try anyway."

He paused.

"First sell online. Build an English website, targeting European and American users directly. Price, thirty percent lower than Motorola's retail price in the United States. Shipping, we cover half."

Zhou Wenbin's eyes lit up.

"Like this…"

"That way, we're not fighting a price war with them," Li Yaozong said, "we're undermining their foundation."

For the next three months, the lights at the Nanshan R&D Center never went out.

Language packs were rewritten. English, French, German, Spanish, Portuguese… five language packs, to switch seamlessly within a single system.

The input method was changed. Pinyin was removed, replaced with English predictive input. Users type a few letters, and the system automatically suggests words.

Network standards were adjusted. China's GSM is 900/1800, Europe and America use 850/1900. Different bands mean the RF module must be retuned.

Chargers were swapped. European plugs have two round holes, American ones have two flat prongs. Molds were reopened, the production line readjusted.

Zhang Wei, leading his team, pulled ninety all‑nighters.

Chen Nian collapsed from exhaustion, was forced by Zhang Wei into the hospital, received an IV drip for a day, then stealthily ran back to the lab.

On December 20th, the first English‑version Fenghuang Phone lit up its screen.

The boot animation was still that star, but the text beneath was switched to English:

"Phoenix, from China."

January 1, 2002, the English website went live.

The homepage displayed a single image: three Fenghuang Phones with silver‑gray casings, clean lines, and the rising star on the screen.

A line of text below:

"Fenghuang from China. Chips made in‑house, system written in‑house. Performance on par with Motorola, price a third cheaper."

Below that were three purchase buttons.

Fenghuang‑1, $99.

Fenghuang‑2, $149.

Fenghuang‑3, $299.

On the first day, orders came from the United States, United Kingdom, Germany, France, Canada… a total of 347 orders.

The second day, 823 orders.

The third day, 1,568 orders.

Zhou Wenbin's call came from Hong Kong, his voice trembling.

"Mr. Li! The servers are about to crash! Order volume is three times what we projected!"

Li Yaozong held the phone, silent for a few seconds.

Then he said, "Add servers. Within twenty‑four hours, scale the site threefold."

January 15, 2002, the U. S. Wall Street Journal published an article.

The headline read: "Fenghuang from China Keeps Motorola Awake at Night."

The article detailed the Fenghuang Phone: self‑developed chips, a home‑grown operating system, priced thirty percent cheaper than Motorola, and… from China.

The final sentence was:

"Motorola and Nokia's price war in China has the wrong opponent. Because this Fenghuang has already flown into their backyard."

That day, Motorola's U. S. headquarters stock fell 4.3%.

The next day, Nokia's European stock fell 3.7%.

Meanwhile, the Fenghuang Phone's English website broke ten thousand orders in a single day.

In March 2002, cumulative sales of the Fenghuang Phone in the European and American markets surpassed 500,000 units.

Five hundred thousand is nothing to Motorola and Nokia; they sell tens of millions worldwide each year.

But the problem is—

Those five hundred thousand units were snatched from their mouths.

Every American who bought a Fenghuang might have bought a Motorola.

Every German who bought a Fenghuang might have bought Siemens.

Every French buyer might have bought Alcatel.

Li Yaozong stood by the office window, watching Shenzhen's nightscape.

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

There, Zhang Wei was leading his team, developing the second‑generation Fenghuang Phone—color screen, MMS capable, and able to run small games.

He recalled his father's words.

"Sell one generation, research the next."

Now, he understood.

One April day, Li Yaozong received a letter.

It came from the United States; the envelope bore a Stars and Stripes stamp, postmarked New York. He opened it to find a postcard.

The postcard featured the Statue of Liberty.

On the back, a few lines in English were written in wobbly handwriting, as if by someone just learning the language:

"Mr. Li, I am a Fenghuang user in New York. I bought your Fenghuang‑2 and have used it for a month. I want to tell you, this is the best phone I've ever used. Not because it's cheap, but because it's great. Thank you."

The signature contained a name and an email address.

Li Yaozong stared at the postcard for a long while.

He recalled another saying his father often said.

Making a product isn't about defeating anyone; it's about making users feel it's worth it.

Now, someone tells them: "It's worth it."

He carefully put the postcard into the drawer, together with his father's old "five‑year plan."

That evening, Li Yaozong called his father.

On the other end of the line, Li Ping'an's voice sounded energetic. He and Lin Xueqing were in Yunnan, having just climbed Jade Dragon Snow Mountain.

"Dad," Li Yaozong said, "the Fenghuang Phone has sold five hundred thousand units in Europe and America."

The other end of the line fell silent for two seconds.

Then Li Ping'an laughed.

"Good," he said.

Just that one word.

Li Yaozong held the phone, suddenly not knowing what to say.

From the other end of the line, Lin Xueqing's voice came faintly: "Whose phone is this?"

"Yaozong," Li Ping'an said, "he said the Fenghuang Phone has sold five hundred thousand units in Europe and America."

"Isn't that something to be happy about?"

Li Ping'an fell silent for a moment.

"Happy," he said, "but even happier is that he's learned to walk on his own."

Li Yaozong held the phone, his eye sockets feeling a bit hot.

"Dad," he said, "I'll walk just fine."

"I know," Li Ping'an said, "goodbye."

The phone hung up.

Li Yaozong stood by the window, gazing at the distant night.

That mountain, he had walked for thirty‑five years, finally reaching a place where he could see the path himself.

And that road is still long.

May 2002, Wanxiang Group's annual strategy meeting.

Li Yaozong sat in the chief seat, a thick stack of reports before him. Beside him sat Zhang Wei, Xu Jiaming, He Xiao, Zhou Wenbin, Chen Jianghe… those familiar faces all bore a new expression.

Not fatigue, but excitement.

"Last year," Li Yaozong said, "we set a small goal—to sell the Fenghuang Phone in Europe and America."

He paused.

"This year, we ought to set another one."

On the projection screen, a line of text appeared:

"Fenghuang Phone 2—let the world see China's colors."

Below is a rendering: flip‑type, color screen, camera hidden in the hinge, the body one‑third thinner than the first generation.

Zhang Wei pushed his glasses up.

"The color screen is our own R&D—65,000 colors, a bit behind Japan's, but sufficient."

Xu Jiaming added: "The system has been upgraded; it supports MMS and can run some small games."

Chen Feng rarely smiled.

"The crystal core has also been upgraded—power consumption down thirty percent, and it runs faster."

Li Yaozong looked at them, one by one.

These are the people who pulled countless all‑nighters in the lab, the ones he convinced to make phones, the ones who turned the Fenghuang Phone from a napkin sketch into a half‑million‑unit seller.

"Good," he said.

He stood up and walked to the window.

Outside, the sunlight in Shenzhen was just right.

In the distance, the buildings of the Nanshan R&D Center sparkled in the sunlight.

Those lab lights will stay on tonight.

That road will continue to be walked.

And he is no longer walking alone.