Chapter 52: Chapter Fifty-Two: Dazzling Flowers Blind the Eyes

Hearing Li Dongling’s words, Gao Peng swallowed hard, but before he could speak, Yao Luoying shot him a glare, and he let out a forced laugh, swallowing back the words on his tongue.

Li Dongling observed this scene but said nothing; he could guess at least a little of Yao Luoying’s background.

Regardless of Yao Luoying’s origins, she had indeed helped Li Dongling resolve many troubles at Dongling High-Tech, and now Dongling High-Tech truly needed her to handle affairs.

“I’m not worthy!”

Gao Zhiyuan said with some shame—he had handled the lawsuit against Xinke Kuai Bao poorly, but this wasn’t about his skill level; even if another lawyer had taken over, the case would still have been dragged out.

Yet when compared to Li Dongling’s victory against Microsoft in America, his failure to defeat Xinke Kuai Bao made the contrast sting—how could Gao Zhiyuan not feel ashamed?

Gao Zhiyuan cleared his throat and told Li Dongling, “The trial with Xinke Kuai Bao has concluded. The court leans toward ordering Xinke Kuai Bao to pay Dongling High-Tech 1.5 million yuan in compensation, while Yangcheng’s Industry and Commerce, Culture, and Propaganda departments have imposed fines, ordered a shutdown for rectification, and suspended the newspaper’s publication.”

Though the compensation seemed small, Xinke Kuai Bao was finished—once the newspaper ceased publication, it could never resume, effectively vanishing from the media industry and losing all credibility.

For China’s media industry, this was also a warning: any future outlet that maliciously fabricated stories about Dongling High-Tech would have to consider whether it, too, might shut down.

Li Dongling nodded, then remembered Lin Shiman, who had repeatedly published scathing articles attacking Dongling High-Tech. “What about Lin Shiman?!”

“She’s been fired by Xinke Kuai Bao, fined, and her journalist credentials may be revoked—no newspaper or media outlet will dare hire her again. But…”

Originally, Lin Shiman’s punishment might not have been so severe, but once Dongling High-Tech brought back large sums of foreign exchange—and promised even more—her and Xinke Kuai Bao’s penalties became the maximum possible.

Seeing Li Dongling’s gaze, Gao Zhiyuan said, “Since her dismissal, no one has seen her. Rumors say she’s left the country—apparently to study abroad.”

Lin Shiman had become completely unemployable in China’s media industry; fleeing abroad was less about studying and more about hiding.

Hearing this, Li Dongling frowned slightly—not because he feared retaliation, for Lin Shiman could never cause major trouble.

But her actions showed no surrender—like a toad that doesn’t bite but might suddenly jump out and disgust you again.

Still, thinking about it now was useless—Lin Shiman was already overseas, and Li Dongling wouldn’t waste effort chasing her.

“Regardless, this victory was thanks to Lawyer Gao. Would you be interested in becoming Dongling High-Tech’s legal advisor?” Li Dongling asked Gao Zhiyuan.

Gao Zhiyuan froze, then couldn’t hide his delight—serving as legal advisor to Dongling High-Tech, this rising star in tech, would be a major turning point in his legal career.

Whether Gao Zhiyuan’s legal skills were exceptional or not didn’t matter—Li Dongling needed someone he could trust, a “man of his own,” in that position. That was critical.

Dongling High-Tech would eventually form a legal department, but someone loyal had to sit at the helm to guard contracts for Li Dongling and prevent all kinds of corruption and backroom deals.

“An honor beyond words—I’ll handle all of Dongling High-Tech’s legal affairs!”

Gao Zhiyuan had guessed part of Li Dongling’s thinking: in recent years, China’s legal system remained incomplete, and all sorts of corruption, embezzlement, and collusion between insiders and outsiders to drain company accounts had occurred. Without a trusted person watching key positions, anything could happen.

The plane from Yangcheng to Hanzhou’s capital soared into the clouds. Compared to his departure from Yangcheng Airport, Li Dongling’s return to Hanzhou drew a much larger crowd—prominent reporters and media from the province had all rushed over.

Flowers, applause, interviews, speeches—all surged toward Li Dongling, evoking the feeling of a young man in fine clothes and a spirited horse, seeing all the blossoms of Chang’an in a single day.

Beyond media interviews, numerous companies, universities, and institutions in the provincial capital invited Li Dongling to speak, and many even applied to visit Dongling High-Tech for study tours—this was the style of the era.

Whenever a company became famous, or a failing state-owned enterprise was rescued from collapse, hordes of people would flock to learn from it, hoping to replicate its success.

Being invited to speak at universities and institutions was routine—when he spoke with Hu Zi on the phone yesterday, Hu Zi told him that even before he returned to Pingyang, many had already come seeking to join him.

Just as Wang Laowang, Feng Laowang, and Pan Laowang had once flocked to Mou Laowang, gained fame, and then struck out on their own, many now wanted to follow Li Dongling, hoping to build their own reputations through him.

Being adored by the masses, with public opinion swayed by his every word, having every utterance dissected and speculated upon, receiving endless applause during speeches—this sensation of standing at the center of the world must indeed be intoxicating.

But Li Dongling declined most interviews and refused invitations to speak at events; after arriving in the provincial capital, he quietly returned to Pingyang.

Standing at the center of the world, with every action praised, could indeed intoxicate—but Li Dongling knew it was merely an illusion, a fleeting bloom, a dazzling confusion of flowers. Dongling High-Tech was far from deserving such praise; it was barely a step away from falling into hell.

The lawsuit against Microsoft seemed a great victory in China’s tech industry, but to Microsoft, it was negligible. And if Dongling High-Tech couldn’t continue developing new mouse technology and patents, its Silver Mink mouse would soon be surpassed by Logitech, Microsoft, and others.

As for the other project—the digital cordless telephone—if it failed to meet expectations, Dongling High-Tech would soon be living off its reserves until it ran dry.

The louder the praise for Dongling High-Tech today, the louder the mockery will be when it fails. Right now, Dongling High-Tech still lagged far behind Japan, America, Germany, and other advanced tech nations—key components for both the mouse and the cordless phone still had to be imported. Opening champagne now brought no benefit.

When Li Dongling left Pingyang for America, it was still winter in Pingyang. Now, spring had arrived—the two trees in the courtyard had begun to sprout tender buds.

After returning to the courtyard behind Dongling High-Tech, Li Dongling rested overnight. The next morning, he went with Yang Zhi to a breakfast shop.

Aside from the warming weather, Pingyang seemed unchanged from before—its pace of life remained slow, starkly different from the rapidly evolving metropolises of New York, Yangcheng, and Yanjing. Only those who had left the city for years might return and sense its profound transformation.

After breakfast, Li Dongling arrived at Dongling High-Tech. Compared to before his departure, the office building was now packed—upon entering, he heard phones ringing nonstop, clearly indicating the company’s thriving business.

“Li Zong!”

As soon as he entered the company, the “old” employees who had joined since Dongling High-Tech’s founding immediately stood up and greeted him.

At that call, everyone in the office rose. Some new hires stared at him with visible excitement—these newcomers weren’t just from Pingyang University; some had even traveled from the provincial capital to join him. In their eyes, defeating Microsoft—the very idol of countless young people worldwide—made Li Dongling a national tech hero who carried China’s brand.

When Li Dongling reached the second-floor office, Hu Zi, Chen Tao, Yao Luoying, and other Dongling High-Tech managers arrived one after another. Unlike the gloom before, now that the bankruptcy crisis had passed, the executives wore relaxed expressions and smiles.

“The assembly line at Tianhua Electronics, our OEM manufacturer for the Silver Mink mouse, is running at full capacity. Domestic companies including Lenovo, Great Wall, and foreign-brand computer distributors are all sourcing Silver Mink mice from Dongling High-Tech.”

“Domestic computer sales this year are projected at 500,000 units. The Silver Mink mouse is expected to capture over 40% of the domestic mouse market, selling more than 200,000 units—limited only by production capacity and overseas component supply; otherwise, output could rise further.”

Hu Zi reported first to Li Dongling. During the past two months, while Li Dongling, Yao Luoying, and Gao Peng were away, and Li Dushan could only assist, Hu Zi had managed Dongling High-Tech alone—he’d lost weight noticeably.

In China’s computer mouse market, no brand—not even foreign ones—could compete with the Silver Mink mouse. Looking solely at domestic sales, its performance was dazzling; even with domestic sales alone, Silver Mink’s revenue this year is projected to exceed 30 million yuan.

But Li Dongling showed no joy—he asked, “What about overseas orders? Haven’t any foreign computer distributors wanted to distribute the Silver Mink mouse?”