Chapter 478: Profit Thin? I Believe Your Ghost!

That night, in Xi'an's most upscale Guobin Hotel.

Saleman's personal attendant Alisi watched his Prince pacing anxiously back and forth on the carpet like a desert lion trapped in a cage; the irritating wrinkles in his top‑grade white robe, custom‑made on Savile Street in London, were smoothed out by his steps.

"Your Highness, you have been standing for almost an hour." Alisi finally could not hold back, carefully handing over a cup of black tea, "What exactly does Mr. Lu want? We've been here for almost a week; he either takes us hiking or shows us a play, never mentions a single word of business. Tomorrow he says he'll take us to Shanghai to see the Bund… Does he simply have no intention of selling anything to us? Should we just lay our cards on the table tomorrow?"

Saleman abruptly stopped, snatched the cup, and the scalding tea splashed on his hand without feeling a thing. He walked to the massive floor‑to‑ceiling window, gazing at the brilliant lights illuminating the ancient city wall outside; a flash of irritation from being toyed with crossed his eyes, but more so, a deeper realization.

He suddenly smiled, his smile containing helplessness, admiration, and a hint of excitement at meeting a worthy opponent.

"No, Alisi, you're completely wrong."

He turned, looked at his bewildered attendant, slowly shook his head, his voice hoarse with the rasp of having seen through the heavens.

"He doesn't refuse to sell; he's using this method to tell me how precious what he holds is, and how foolish our previous assumptions were."

"When he showed me the Great Wall, he was telling me that pure defense cannot protect a home; no wall, however tall, can stop internal enemies. When he showed me the Forbidden City, he told me that an army without money cannot sustain a nation, and a powerful military becomes a burden that drags a country down. When he showed me the Terracotta Army, he said that fine equipment unused is merely a pile of expensive scrap metal."

The attendant listened, mouth agape, feeling that the tour he was on with the Prince was not the same tour at all.

"He's giving me a lesson," Saleman exhaled at length, his sharp eyes for the first time showing a near‑academic thirst for knowledge.

"He's telling me that what he intends to sell isn't a few Aircraft or tanks, but a complete answer that will let me rest easy."

"And I must have enough patience and sincerity to wait for him to state that answer with his own mouth."

Having finished, he turned his gaze back to the window, murmuring to himself.

"Shanghai… the future economic heart of Huaxia?"

"I'm increasingly looking forward to it; Mr. Lu, what earth‑shaking gift has he prepared?"

Traveling southward, Lu Qingshan treated him with utmost hospitality—exotic delicacies, top‑grade reception—showing him an ancient, confident, and charismatic Huaxia. Yet from start to finish, he never mentioned a single word about arms sales.

Saleman was on the brink of madness.

Each night he returned to the hotel, pacing anxiously in his room. He felt he hadn't come to procure weapons but to attend an intensive tutorial on Eastern philosophy and strategic thought. The more he grasped Huaxia's depth, the more curious and eager he became about the "thing" Lu Qingshan would present, and the more he perceived the United States and Soviet Union's blunt, brute‑force sales pitch as shallow and greedy.

That night, on the Huangpu River, the top deck of a chartered luxury cruise liner.

The river breeze blew gently; both banks glittered with a night view of Shanghai's Bund as bright as a galaxy of stars.

Saleman stared at the scenery, his appetite gone. He watched across at Lu Qingshan, who leisurely sliced a piece of Dongpo pork for Lin Yueqiang and even corrected his chopstick grip, and could no longer hold back.

He abruptly set down his knife and fork, a sharp "Clang!" ringing out, leapt up from his seat, and hurried to Lu Qingshan.

"Mr. Lu!" Saleman began, his voice trembling with urgent pleading, "I must be frank: besides sightseeing, my main mission in Huaxia is to procure a batch of advanced weapons and equipment for my country. Could you possibly pull some strings for me? I beg you!"

Lin Yueqiang, wrestling with the succulent yet non‑greasy Dongpo pork, jumped at the words, the meat nearly spilling from his mouth, his face blank as he stared at the suddenly erupting white‑robed figure.

Lu Qingshan observed his expression, a hint of playful smile finally appearing. He gestured for Saleman to sit, leisurely poured him a freshly brewed West Lake Longjing, the tea fragrance filling the air.

"His Highness Prince, you are my honored guest; now that you've spoken, I will of course do my utmost to help." He pushed the cup over, then shifted tone, speaking especially earnestly, "However, I must remind you that the arms trade is a deep, murky pool, extremely risky, and the profit is thin. Have you truly thought it through, to wade into these muddied waters?"

Saleman heard this and nearly spat out a mouthful of old blood.

Profit thin?!

The whole world knows that arms and drugs are the most lucrative trades! This Mr. Lu, claiming falsehoods with his eyes wide open, has reached the pinnacle of skill! He stared at Lu Qingshan's unblemished sincerity and felt his intelligence insulted like never before.

"Mr. Lu," Saleman forced down the ten‑million alpaca doubts in his heart, mustered a smile uglier than crying, gritted his teeth and said, "As long as I can procure suitable weapons for Saudi Arabia to defend my country, no matter how great the risk or how thin the profit, I will spare no effort!"

"Good!" Lu Qingshan nodded satisfactorily, as if he had been waiting for that very sentence. "Since Your Highness Prince is so sincere, I'll stop hiding. In fact, I happen to have a batch of high‑quality, low‑price goods I can recommend to you."

Saleman instantly leapt with joy, leaning forward involuntarily, his eyes blazing: "Oh? What kind of good thing is it?"

Lu Qingshan gave a mysterious smile and nodded at Wang Yuyun behind him.

A few minutes later, Wang Yuyun entered the room carrying a hefty black metal safe.

Lu Qingshan took the box, in front of Saleman entered the code, a "Clack!" and opened it. Inside was not a weapon model, but a finely crafted, hard‑cover document as thick as a dictionary.

He pushed the document toward Saleman.

Saleman practically lunged forward, trembling hands flipping it open; after just a glance at the table of contents, his breathing quickened instantly, his cheeks flushing bright red!

The document listed, in English and Arabic, every weapon system Huaxia could currently export: the 59D main battle tank, the Type‑86 infantry fighting vehicle, the J‑7MG fighter jet, the PL series air‑to‑air missiles, and even the 63‑type 107 mm rocket launcher that strikes fear into Vietnam.

The more Saleman read, the more his heart raced and his excitement grew! Technically these weapons could not match the top‑tier American or Soviet models, but they are rugged, durable, and cheap! Most crucially, they constitute a complete combined‑arms system of high‑low, near‑far capabilities—a combination absent from any US‑Soviet list he had seen.

When he turned to the final page and saw only a picture, he was struck as if by lightning, frozen solid.

It was a massive missile, standing silently on a desert launch pad, its whole body jet‑black, exuding a primitive, apocalyptic aesthetic of raw violence. Beneath the image, a single line of plain English read: DF‑3 Medium‑Range Ballistic Missile.

"Dong… Dongfeng…"

Saleman's voice trembled as he pointed at the picture, a hoarse "Hoo‑hoo" coming from his throat, his excitement nearly causing him to faint.

"Mr. Lu… this… you also sell this?!"

Lu Qingshan smiled lightly, saying breezily, "We can discuss price gradually. However, I hope Your Highness Prince understands that what we sell you is more than just these iron lumps."

"What is that?" Saleman asked instinctively, his soul seemingly drawn into the missile.

"It is a complete Solution." Lu Qingshan stood, walked to the window, watching the ships traversing the Huangpu River, and said slowly, "The Americans sell you the most expensive fishing rods because they want you to forever buy their bait; the Soviets sell you the sturdiest fishing nets because they want your ship to forever dock at their ports. They both want you to only ever fish, forever dependent on them."

He turned, his gaze burning as he looked at Saleman, eyes as deep as the sea, seeming to pierce everything.

"And I don't just sell you fishing rods and nets; I'll also teach you how to dig a Fish Pond that is entirely your own, one that no one can ever take away."

Saleman was utterly stunned.

He felt he wasn't hearing a weapons dealer's pitch but a strategic mentor's teaching. He finally understood Lu Qingshan's true purpose in showing him sights these past days. What he saw and felt had already transcended a mere weapons transaction, pointing directly at Saudi Arabia's future and Saleman's own ambitions.

At that moment, all his inner restlessness and doubts evaporated, leaving only a profound, heartfelt respect and gratitude.

"Mr. Lu…" Saleman sprang to his feet, straightening his robe, and with the most solemn etiquette of the Arab world bowed deeply before Lu Qingshan, his voice trembling with emotion, "You are not a merchant; you are a true friend! A great mentor! On behalf of the Saudi Arabian royal family, on behalf of my country, I thank you!"

Lu Qingshan accepted his grand gesture calmly, smiling, "Your Highness Prince, no need for such courtesy. Between friends, this is only natural." He gestured for Saleman to sit again and refilled his tea.