Chapter 390: They

At the construction site of Zhongai Machinery Company, a temporary office had been set up using several tin sheds, and outside these sheds stood two flagpoles, one of which flew a rising sun flag.

The flagpoles weren't tall, but Li Zhongfa still had to tilt his head up to see the flags, and as he did, the noon sun stabbed his eyes, causing two old tears to well up.

The sudden appearance of twenty-odd people naturally drew attention from inside the tin shed.

A man in a full suit, despite the sweltering heat, stepped out and asked in a strange accent: "May I ask what you need?"

Just as Factory Director Wang was about to speak, Li Zhongfa pointed at the flagpoles and asked sternly: "Don't ask us what we want first—what's going on with that flag? Who authorized you to hang it?"

The suited man glanced at Li Zhongfa and replied irritably: "We hung it according to regulations—the red flag is highest, most visible, most prominent. What's the problem?"

Li Zhongfa's face darkened. He turned to Chen Yanhong, who had come with them: "Young comrade, why didn't Pengcheng Red Bull hang the flags of Malaysia and Hong Kong?"

Chen Yanhong paused, then smiled: "Old comrade, you've asked the right person. Many joint ventures here fly flags, but our boss says he's a flower grower, and Pengcheng Red Bull is also a flower-growing enterprise, so we don't fly any flags."

Li Zhongfa exhaled, his expression slightly easing.

He looked up at the noon sun and said to Factory Director Wang: "It's midday—let's not stand here baking in the sun. Let's come back this afternoon?"

Factory Director Wang, looking at the shabby scene before him, said darkly: "We won't come back this afternoon either. No factory building has even been started—this is just deception."

With both factory directors speaking, everyone naturally turned to leave.

But just then, a black Daimler limousine pulled up and stopped before them.

The driver got out, bowed slightly to Factory Director Wang and the others, then asked: "Excuse me, are you guests from Changbei Machinery Factory?"

Factory Director Wang nodded silently, saying nothing.

"Please wait a moment."

The driver hurried back to the car and whispered something to the person in the back seat.

Then Nakamura Naoto stepped out, walking over with a smile: "I'm truly sorry—I thought you'd be arriving this afternoon! We've been remiss in our reception."

Factory Director Wang glanced at Nakamura Naoto and said coolly: "No need to mention reception or not—we were just leaving anyway."

"Leaving already?"

Nakamura Naoto froze, then turned to the suited man who had emerged from the tin shed.

"Shimaji, what's going on?"

The suited man named Shimaji visibly panicked, lowering his head and muttering something in a foreign tongue.

Nakamura Naoto's expression changed instantly.

He turned and bowed deeply to Factory Director Wang and the others: "I apologize, everyone. Please give me one minute."

Factory Director Wang and the others looked puzzled, but Li Zhongfa merely curled his lips into a cold smile.

The next moment, they saw Nakamura Naoto stride over to Shimaji and launch into a furious tirade.

"What's wrong with you? Why didn't you take care of our guests? Don't you know customers are gods? ##￥￥……&"

"I—I saw they came from Pengcheng Red Bull nearby. I didn't realize they were guests."

"All visitors are guests! Don't you even understand that? Are you a child who knows nothing? Stupid people only make excuses."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Mr. Nakamura! It's my fault—please forgive me!"

"You shouldn't ask for my forgiveness—you should ask for the guests' forgiveness."

"Hai!"

Shimaji rushed over to Factory Director Wang and the others, bowing repeatedly while shouting: "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"I'm so sorry, truly sorry—please accept my apology, or I'll carry this guilt for the rest of my life!"

This left Factory Director Wang and the others embarrassed—they had wanted to leave because Zhongai Machinery was still just an empty lot, with not even a shadow of a factory building, and had nothing to do with this Shimaji.

Yet now, looking at Shimaji—his eyes frantic, drenched in sweat, bowing nearly one hundred and eighty degrees—it was as if he were confessing to some grave sin.

"This guy… is really polite."

"Yeah, maybe we should forgive him!"

"Forgive him for what? We should clarify things to this Nakamura guy on his behalf."

Among the group, only Li Zhongfa watched lazily, while everyone else pitied Shimaji.

Factory Director Wang disliked Shimaji—he thought his humility was excessive, lacking any backbone.

But Shimaji stood blocking their path, endlessly apologizing—they couldn't leave.

Just then, a large bus arrived from afar.

Nakamura Naoto stepped forward and bowed deeply: "Please board the bus. We've prepared a reception program to show our sincerity and make up for our mistake."

Factory Director Wang and the others were stunned—how had the bus arrived so quickly?

"How did the bus get here so fast?"

"What's to ask? They had the bus ready in advance—we arrived too early."

"Exactly, exactly—they were expecting us this afternoon."

Unable to refuse such earnest hospitality, Factory Director Wang led the Changbei Machinery team onto the bus.

But Li Zhongfa's group didn't move, so Shimaji hurried over and bowed again.

"Please board the bus—I beg you!"

All of Li Zhongfa's people turned to look at their old factory director.

Everyone knew the story of Li Zhongfa taking on three Japanese soldiers at once—whether to board or not now depended entirely on his decision.

Li Zhongfa smiled: "Why are you all looking at me? If they've gone to the trouble of preparing good food and entertainment, don't waste their goodwill."

Only then did everyone board the bus. Once aboard, one of Li Zhongfa's trusted men whispered: "Director Li, what's the deal with these Japanese? The factory isn't even built yet, yet they're already negotiating with Changbei Machinery—would Factory Director Wang really believe them?"

Li Zhongfa gave a wry smile and whispered back: "That depends on how much they're willing to spend. A man who eats your food keeps his mouth shut; a man who takes your gift loses his strength. They understand this better than we do."

The trusted man blinked, dumbfounded: "Then what about us—"

Li Zhongfa gave him a weary look: "What's it to us? Do you think everyone's worth buying? The Japanese look rich, but they're tightfisted."

Half an hour later, the tour group arrived at a hotel and witnessed the Japanese "generosity."

The high-end banquet featured no chicken, duck, or fish—only fresh seafood, a stark contrast to Pengcheng Red Bull's cafeteria tomato-and-egg stir-fry, clearly meeting the standard for hosting guests.

And they didn't just serve food—they held a friendship lottery on stage, and one lucky fellow won a large television.

With such goodwill, Factory Director Wang couldn't refuse—if he did, that fellow would hold a grudge for life.

And it wasn't over: after three rounds of drinks, they arranged a circus troupe to perform songs and dances.

This was the kind of traveling circus common in the 1980s—no dazzling acts, but singing and dancing were enough to liven up the atmosphere to bursting.

And when everyone finished eating and prepared to leave, each person received a souvenir.

This wasn't some cheap tote bag printed with "XX Memorial"—everyone got a wristwatch.

This entire reception cost at least several thousand yuan, possibly even ten thousand—hardly the behavior of someone "tightfisted."

Honestly, compared to Pengcheng Red Bull's hospitality over the past two days, this felt like a lesson in bitter reminiscence.

After eating and drinking their fill, the bus took the dozen or so guests to a large warehouse.

Inside the warehouse, two sewing machines had already been set up.

Factory Director Wang and the others stared in surprise—these two sewing machines were Changbei-1 models, made by their own factory.

But Nakamura Naoto smiled: "We didn't originally plan to discuss business today,

but to dispel your doubts, we've boldly added a product demonstration. Please inspect these two sewing machines—you'll be astonished."

The group exchanged glances, then Tang Mingtai stepped forward.

There was no choice: among the nearly ten Changbei Machinery staff present, Tang Mingtai was the only technician—or rather, without Zhongai's involvement, he wouldn't have even been on this tour.

"Whirrrr."

A faint mechanical hum began, and Tang Mingtai's expression turned serious.

The noise and vibration of this sewing machine were noticeably lower than those of the Changbei-1—it wasn't their own product.

Tang Mingtai carefully inspected it, then said to Wang Qingshan: "This isn't our Changbei sewing machine. They've modified it?"

"Just minor modifications."

Nakamura Naoto walked over with a harmless smile: "Most parts of this sewing machine are still Changbei-branded; only a few components have been improved and processed by us. So… we should cooperate."

That evening, back at the guesthouse, Li Zhongfa called Li Ye: "Little Ye, I think these Japanese have ulterior motives. Changbei has shares held by Dayong and Pei Wencong—warn them, get them to investigate quickly."

On the other end, Li Ye was surprised—he'd assumed competition with Nakamura Naoto was still months away, since his own factory hadn't even built its workshop yet!

After building the workshop, he'd need to calibrate machines, train staff—two years might pass before Tang Mingtai and the others even developed the Changbei-3 model.

And Nakamura Naoto would still need to find markets, build distribution channels, establish a brand—how could he catch up so easily?

But now it seemed Nakamura Naoto's plans mirrored Li Ye's own.

How could this be allowed?

Changbei Machinery wasn't just about Dayong and Pei Wencong's shares—Li Ye's own share was greater than theirs combined!

"I understand, Grandpa. Old Pei is already in Pengcheng—I'll call him over to discuss it. But I doubt Factory Director Wang will so easily side with the Japanese—Changbei Machinery's current conflict is internal; he should understand that."

"That's true, but—"

At that moment, Li Ye heard shouting from Li Zhongfa's end of the line.

"Little Ye, hold on—I'll go listen."

Moments later, Li Zhongfa returned, having played spy.

"Little Ye—they've made you a general."

(End of Chapter)