Chapter 975: Foresight

"Deputy Director Li"

After the pleasantries, Xu Siyan stepped forward to remind them: "Lunch is ready."

"Then let’s eat first."

Li Xuewu smiled and gestured for Andrew and the others to proceed, then joined Xu Siyan in leading the group into the hall.

The shipyard naturally treated the god of wealth with respect, and the meals prepared were as high-quality as possible.

Yingcheng faces the sea, so seafood is essential; yet the table held more than just seafood—it featured mountain delicacies too.

Since Yingcheng also borders mountains, the meal truly embodied the truth of living off the land and the sea.

Zhou Xiaobai and the others, as accompanying personnel, were seated in other rooms, but their meals were identical.

Along with Luo Yun, she instantly became a food enthusiast, and since she didn’t know anyone in the group, she didn’t care about saving face.

Zhou Miaomiao personally picked up a crab for the two of them and smiled as she explained how Yingcheng’s crabs were different.

Zhou Xiaobai glanced at her in surprise, then looked at the crab on the plate, and softly thanked her.

Luo Yun, however, was even more direct—she didn’t even look at Zhou Miaomiao, nor did she pay attention to the crab on the plate.

The others at the table glanced over, saying nothing; the atmosphere grew awkward.

But Zhou Miaomiao, being a few years older than the two, understood how delicate young girls could be at such moments.

Since this girl named Zhou Xiaobai was talkative, she’d start with her.

One crab broke down the barrier between them, and from sharing the same surname Zhou, they began discussing their educational experiences.

Zhou Xiaobai wasn’t as cautious as Luo Yun; since Zhou Miaomiao initiated conversation, she occasionally chimed in.

During the meal, Peng Xiaoli came over to ask whether they wanted to rest after lunch or tour Yingcheng.

Zhou Xiaobai asked about Li Xuewu’s plans, but Peng Xiaoli only smiled and said the leaders would hold a meeting and inspect the site in the afternoon.

Zhou Miaomiao caught the implication in Peng Xiaoli’s words and asked if visiting Yingcheng would be convenient.

Peng Xiaoli glanced at her and smiled, explaining that Xiao Liu, Secretary to Director Xu of the shipyard, would arrange a driver to take them around Yingcheng.

Zhou Miaomiao then understood—the shipyard had no further tasks for them—and she invited Zhou Xiaobai and Luo Yun to tour Yingcheng together.

Luo Yun glanced at Peng Xiaoli; she didn’t trust Zhou Miaomiao, but she knew Li Xuewu’s secretary wouldn’t harm them.

As Zhou Xiaobai hesitated and nodded in agreement, Luo Yun didn’t object—she merely stated that neither she nor Xiaobai had brought any money or coupons.

At this moment, one could see why Li Huaide favored Zhou Miaomiao and kept her close.

The two girls openly admitted they were broke; Zhou Miaomiao didn’t offer to pay, but turned her gaze to Peng Xiaoli.

Peng Xiaoli quietly explained to them that the leaders had made arrangements—just enjoy themselves.

After Peng Xiaoli finished speaking, Zhou Miaomiao quietly told Zhou Xiaobai that Yingcheng’s goods weren’t as comprehensive as Beijing’s, but they had their own specialties.

She added they wouldn’t visit expensive malls—just stroll around and take in Yingcheng’s scenery.

Peng Xiaoli’s eyes swept over Zhou Miaomiao, then added: "The leaders also prepared a task for you—please help them buy some children’s toys."

Zhou Miaomiao smiled in agreement, saying the leaders never forgot their daughters—last time in Yangcheng, she’d seen them buy many toys.

After Peng Xiaoli left, she quietly discussed with Zhou Xiaobai what to buy, making Luo Yun grimace.

She wasn’t five years old—she felt uneasy, but wouldn’t stop Zhou Xiaobai from interacting.

She just watched Zhou Miaomiao deliberately draw close to Zhou Xiaobai, her calculated socializing, and found it both tragic and pitiful.

You stand on the bridge admiring the view, unaware that the one admiring the view is watching you from the building.

You think the one initiating contact is pitiful, unaware that she finds your feigned aloofness equally pitiable.

In women’s world, there’s never a law that a triangle is most stable—because three women make a drama.

Men are different: two sitting together might feel awkward, but three can play Landlord!

Because of the foreign businessmen like Andrew, no alcohol was served at lunch.

The meal was lavish; everyone ate and chatted, not as boisterous as a drinking table, but pleasantly relaxed.

After lunch, everyone followed the shipyard’s schedule and found places to rest.

Liu Shaozong, Gao Yaqin, and Zhou Gancheng gathered together without being called.

They had lost the enthusiasm they had when boarding; their grim faces now revealed inner resentment.

Especially watching Li Xuewu effortlessly command the scene, their faces seemed to freeze over with frost.

Even the most sumptuous lunch couldn’t soothe their inner turmoil.

"Cough, cough~"

In the small rest room, the three sat in silence for a long time, none willing to speak first.

Liu Shaozong suffered the most; he glanced at Gao Yaqin, then at Zhou Gancheng, and finally couldn’t hold back.

He cleared his throat twice before speaking: "Is... is that plan even feasible?"

Zhou Gancheng glanced at Gao Yaqin, then fixed his gaze on Liu Shaozong, waiting for him to continue.

Gao Yaqin’s expression was calm, showing no intention to respond; she crossed her arms, lowered her head, and pressed her lips shut.

"I’m a bit uncertain."

Liu Shaozong frowned as he lit a cigarette: "I agreed too quickly back then."

"What do you mean?"

Gao Yaqin raised an eyebrow, glancing at Liu Shaozong, then at Zhou Gancheng.

Zhou Gancheng signaled for Liu Shaozong to go on.

Each represented their own interests; now forced together, their actions clashed with their personal goals.

So even sitting together, they were in the same bed with different dreams, each harboring hidden motives.

Liu Shaozong’s remark clearly meant he wanted to back out, fearing karmic consequences and future retaliation.

But he couldn’t voice this first—he’d offend the other two, and worse, Li Xuewu.

He didn’t want to anger the one behind the scheme, nor the one breaking the deadlock.

He even had to consider the opinions of the other two on the same boat.

So he claimed he was uncertain, saying he’d agreed too hastily under Li Xuewu’s intimidation, and expressed doubt about the plan.

If the other two were also uncertain, they could act together—then whoever got blamed wouldn’t be alone.

But the other two saw no value in his hesitation.

Seeing him struggle to speak, Gao Yaqin couldn’t hold back her anger: "Are you trying to back out now? Isn’t it too late?"

Ignoring Liu Shaozong’s sudden pallor, she cut straight to the core: "If the ship sinks, you sink with it!"

Yes, they’d all been on the ship together—only then had they felt the same urgency to agree.

But back then, Li Xuewu’s brutality had weighed heavily on them; now that they were ashore, the pressure had eased.

And if the three of them teamed up to remove Li Xuewu from the ship and resolve this quickly—what then?

Clearly, Gao Yaqin didn’t want that.

Facing Liu Shaozong’s silence, Gao Yaqin lowered her eyelids, glancing at him with disdain: "Don’t think about playing sneaky tricks behind the scenes."

"And you need to know"

She tapped her foot, squinting slightly: "This is Yingcheng, the shipyard—it’s the rolling mill’s territory."

"I should never have gotten involved!"

Liu Shaozong, flustered by her words, took a sharp drag on his cigarette and crushed the half-smoked butt in irritation.

Gao Yaqin didn’t coddle him: "You’re unhappy? Did I complain first?"

She crossed her arms, legs stacked, and scanned him up and down: "Want to swap roles with me?"

She paused, then sneered: "I’d rather be the hero!"

"Do you think I wanted this?!"

Liu Shaozong slapped his chest: "Did I beg for this? Was I eager?!"

Of course he didn’t want it—in Li Xuewu’s plan, he was the hero, the one who would set things right and turn the tide.

But!

In this plan, the more virtuous and upright he appeared, the more he was just a shit-stirrer, the bastard who overturned the table in the schemer’s design.

He was too damn righteous—so righteous the other side wanted him sacrificed.

In truth, it was just the threats Li Xuewu made on the ship—now, instead of Li Xuewu carrying them out, he had to.

The lone hero.

Seeing how much he loved acting, Li Xuewu handed him the chance to play the noble, conscience-driven role.

But it wasn’t so radical—he was to report problems through official channels to the Ministry of Industry and higher authorities.

This approach was compliant, avoided direct confrontation, and sidestepped sensitive areas.

Being a hero costs. Think about it: even Zhou Gancheng’s superiors feared the person involved—how could he possibly have the resolve to correct the chaos?

Zhou Gancheng saw his inner conflict and torment—even at lunch, Liu Shaozong’s brow hadn’t relaxed.

No one ate well at lunch; the more they watched Li Xuewu’s boldness, the more they felt cheated.

How did we ever get on this boat?!

This isn’t a yacht—it’s a pirate ship!

"What if we swap roles?"

Zhou Gancheng raised an eyebrow and said to Liu Shaozong: "If you think your part in the plan is too noble, I don’t want to be the spy or the traitor who strikes from behind either."

"..."

Liu Shaozong stared at him, picked up the half-smoked butt from the ashtray, and lit it again.

He didn’t want to speak—didn’t want to talk to either of them—was utterly speechless.

In this plan, none of the three of them are good guys!

After a long silence, having finished half a cigarette, Liu Shaozong still grumbled: “So we’re just letting him off the hook?!”

Isn’t that exactly it? Li Xuewu threw out this plan just to make the three of us play a triangle game so he could vanish from sight.

All the pressure falls on the three of us, while Li Xuewu is now smugly off negotiating cooperation with foreign merchants.

What the hell kind of situation is this?!

“What else would you have?”

Gao Yaqin snapped back: “Let him give up completely and drag all of us down with him?”

She sneered: “Since things have come to this, it’s better to take the initiative and resolve it.”

“I just don’t believe it!”

Liu Shaozong crushed out his cigarette and growled: “I don’t believe he’d dare to burn his boats!”

“Mmm~ mmm~”

Zhou Gancheng squinted and said: “I don’t believe it either—but dare you bet on it?”

Though Liu Shaozong seemed agitated, he sat there motionless, showing not the slightest intention to rise and confront Li Xuewu.

Among these three, who isn’t a top performer in their unit? What could they possibly fail to see?

Li Xuewu’s intentions, the trap he’s laid—they see it at a glance.

But if a conspiracy can be broken, how do you break an open, honest scheme?

He deliberately set it up this way, clearly trapping the three of us—can we really refuse?

We could refuse—but the other two could, while Zhou Gancheng cannot.

If the ship sinks, the other two can simply move elsewhere for a better post, or wait for the next opportunity.

But what about him?

Career opportunities can come again—but can life?

No one’s ever heard of someone coming back from the dead!

Even if someone had, it wouldn’t happen to him—he wouldn’t even leave behind a trace of ash.

Liu Shaozong naturally understood: at this point, neither of the other two showed any intention to resist Li Xuewu’s plan.

He asked helplessly: “Even if he’s a genius and really uncovers the person behind this, what then?”

“Could it be…?”

Liu Shaozong glanced sharply at the two and asked: “Does he have another move?”

“That’s hard to say~”

Zhou Gancheng wearily rubbed his forehead bandage, pressing too hard and wincing in pain.

“I won’t go into detail about his background connections, but I can assure you—he’s stronger than you think.”

“Setting aside his background connections, just from this incident alone—”

Gao Yaqin looked at Liu Shaozong and asked: “Do you think the steel mill will abandon him? Li Huai de will abandon him?”

Her expression turned grim: “I haven’t even mentioned his other identity yet—mutual protection, solid and unbreakable.”

They all knew Li Xuewu’s other identity: First Deputy Political Commissar and Deputy Regiment Commander of the Third Regiment of the Garrison Zone—unassuming, but truly powerful.

Any cadre holding such a position while also serving in a local factory is no ordinary man.

Not to mention the background connections Zhou Gancheng subtly hinted at.

Li Xuewu’s father-in-law—who hasn’t even disembarked yet—just mentioning his name would make everyone understand.

After disembarking, they also learned who Zhou Xiaobai’s father was.

This situation is truly terrifying!

Just think—why would a daughter of a Deputy Director of the Beijing District Command be running around with him like this?!

The moment they learned Zhou Xiaobai’s identity, cold sweat broke out on all three of their backs.

Li Xuewu wasn’t bluffing on the ship—if foreign affairs risks were tied to Li Xuewu, Zhou Xiaobai would be dragged in too.

Who among them would then have the power to resolve Zhou Xiaobai’s problem? And how could they possibly withstand Li Xuewu’s retaliation?

Everyone says Li Xuewu comes from an ordinary family, a classic case of a prodigal son returning, a symbol of youthful talent.

Do you believe that?!

Liu Shaozong caught a flicker of movement at the door—confirmed: it was Li Xuewu’s secretary, Peng Xiaoli.

Of course—Li Xuewu, a security veteran, wouldn’t let them slip out of his sight so easily.

Think of the cases Li Xuewu handled before—he could even uncover hidden Japanese agents. What are we?

Someone this ruthless shouldn’t be this young—you’d underestimate him at a glance!

Damned habit of underestimating people!

Since this path was blocked, the three no longer hesitated—they each left, found phones, and called Beijing to report.

No choice—when you’re under someone else’s roof, you must bow your head. They had no option but to follow Li Xuewu’s plan!

Shu Ke and Bei Ta once said: an easily achieved goal isn’t a dream; a promise easily abandoned isn’t a promise. To succeed, you must dare to challenge. A ship that can’t break out of its circle will forever be a joke.

During the planned economy era, the overall development of shipbuilding was clear from annual tonnage growth figures.

The current economic focus is on land—the twelve-nautical-mile territorial waters haven’t yet been developed.

So inland major shipyards either serve naval vessels or stagnate.

Shipyards like Yingcheng Shipyard, actively seeking foreign advanced technology and achieving contract manufacturing, are rare.

Li Xuewu, wearing a wool overcoat, walked ahead with Andrew, with Xu Siyear beside them, explaining the shipyard’s situation.

Liu Shaozong and the accompanying personnel followed behind, observing the site and discussing their findings.

Led by Chief Engineer Xia Zhongquan of the steel mill, Deputy Chief Engineer Zhao Hongtu of the shipyard, and Chief Engineer David of Jili Xing Company, the engineering team had already arrived on-site.

They were inspecting and discussing the dock, aiming to identify the yacht manufacturing pier and determine engineering machinery and manpower resources.

To ensure the integrity of shipbuilding processes and stable timelines, all these details must be written into the contract.

Staff held blueprints, marking for engineers the locations and data they wanted to examine.

Zhou Miaomiao and the other two also exited the shipyard office area, first joining the crowd to take photos by the sea, then boarding a vehicle arranged by Xiao Liu to head into town.

“Yingcheng has never lacked a shipbuilding heritage.”

Li Xuewu gestured toward the vast sea and told Andrew: “When it comes to conquering the sea, we’re no later than Italy—in fact, we were earlier.”

The group stood on the dock, looking down to see the entire shipyard laid bare; gazing far off, lay the stars and seas yet to be conquered.

“This shipyard beneath our feet is still young—from project approval to where you stand, only a dozen years have passed.”

Li Xuewu pointed to the river mouth nearby and smiled: “The elders here told me this used to be a muddy swamp—you’d walk in and never get out.”

“Near the river mouth, reeds stretched everywhere, ponds and puddles everywhere—frogs and grasshoppers hopping everywhere.”

He turned back and pointed to the completed tens of thousands of square meters of factory buildings, sighing: “Without heavy machinery, without efficient construction teams—can you imagine the tenacity required?”

Andrew glanced at the nearby buildings and surroundings, beginning to grasp the reality under Li Xuewu’s description.

“The first major challenge for workers arriving on-site was food, housing, and water.”

Li Xuewu frowned slightly: “The underground brackish water here couldn’t be used for construction or daily use—they had to haul water by truck from far away in the city.”

“Of course—”

He smiled: “Now the water problem is solved—we’ve connected pipelines.”

“Think of how hard those pioneers were—temporary sheds could grow reeds.”

“Because the land was low-lying, foundations built too low would flood—so they had to pile up earth, compact it with rollers, build artificial foundations, then lay foundations atop the backfilled soil.”

Li Xuewu stood on the dock, gazing at the construction and office zones, nodding slightly: “Our workers are the loveliest people—they possess the courage and will to transform heaven and earth.”

“That’s why I chose this place.”

Andrew understood Li Xuewu’s implied meaning and nodded in agreement with a smile.

Seeing this, Li Xuewu smiled too: “Cooperation is meant for mutual benefit—at least our goals are aligned.”

He turned back and gestured to the dock below: “Yingcheng Shipyard has immense development potential—you can see it from the docks we’ve built.”

“Ten-thousand-ton vessels~”

Andrew nodded, understanding: “The international shipping market’s standard capacity—Port City is also developing a mega-ship economy.”

“This is definitely the future trend!”

Li Xuewu tapped his finger at him, affirming: “Believe me—our factory possesses vision and thinking equal to the world’s best!”

“You see a ten-thousand-ton shipbuilding dock.”

He pointed downward, seriously: “I see mass-produced ten-thousand-ton vessels driving massive commodity circulation and economic growth.”

“Conversely—”

Li Xuewu pointed again at Xu Siyear: “The ability to build ten-thousand-ton vessels represents the shipyard’s future and development.”

“That means we can build larger ships, more ships—and have the confidence and capability to build smaller, more luxurious vessels too.”

“Rest assured on this point—”

Xu Siyear, seeing Li Xuewu hand over the floor, nodded firmly: “There’s an old Chinese saying: without the diamond drill, don’t take on porcelain work.”

“Yingcheng Shipyard’s current technical, human, and material reserves fully support future rapid development.”

As he spoke, he gestured to the dock beneath them and the distant machining workshops: “Current production capacity hasn’t reached its peak—just as Deputy Director Li said, the shipyard’s potential is limitless.”

“I understand.”

Andrew nodded, his gaze sweeping over everything ready—only the east wind missing.

He gestured to the shipyard’s several docks and asked Xu Siyear: “Do you have production plans for next year?”

“For the next three years—even five years—”

Xu SiNian smiled confidently and nodded: “Actually, the machining workshop has already been producing nonstop.”

“But this is our first winter, so many tasks haven’t had time to begin—the dry dock still has no new hulls under construction.”

“But!”

He said firmly: “All production-ready procedures are already in progress with component stockpiling—waiting only for spring to begin formal production.”

“Standardized assembly model?”

Andrew glanced at Xu SiNian in surprise, then turned the question to Li Xuewu.

Li Xuewu smiled slightly and gazed at the sea: “Like manufacturing cars, we must produce ships rapidly.”

“Terrifying~”

Andrew shook his head slightly and asked: “Even if your dry dock is large enough and the fishing boats small enough, with six or ten vessels starting simultaneously, how fast could you really go?”

“You should believe in us.”

Li Xuewu smiled and pointed to the cables laid around the dock and the towering lighthouses: “In your eyes, a day has twenty-four hours; in ours, a day has twenty-four hours.”

“Impossible~”

Andrew shook his head firmly: “You can’t schedule workers to labor twenty-four hours straight.”

“Why not?”

Li Xuewu spread his hands with a smile: “What limits us can be machinery, or technical capability—but never effort.”

“No! It’s not about effort!”

Andrew shook his head slightly: “You must understand—nighttime construction is inefficient, and overtime imposes strain on both workers and machinery.”

“These aren’t problems.”

Xu SiNian stated firmly: “We’ve planned a three-shift engineering management system for uninterrupted 24-hour operations.”

He slapped the iron railing on the dock and said with clenched lips: “Time waits for no one—this shipyard’s giant vessel must set sail.”

The steel rolling mill gave no exact start date, but each passing day added more pressure to the shipyard.

Especially pressure from Li Xuewu—he had repeatedly urged the shipyard to lay its first keel as soon as possible.

This winter, the shipyard’s nonstop construction and partial machining operations were all due to Li Xuewu’s demands.

Give people when asked, give money when asked, give equipment when asked, give materials when asked.

Whatever the shipyard needed, whatever the steel rolling mill could mobilize, Li Xuewu gave to Xu SiNian.

Now all the pressure rests on Xu SiNian—only when the first ship launches and sails will he finally breathe easy.

So uninterrupted construction is not just Yingcheng Shipyard’s choice—it’s its inevitable one.

The original plan was for a factory of about three thousand workers; now it’s being approved to expand to eight thousand, even ten thousand.

The advanced experience from Bincheng Shipyard told him: to achieve rapid production while current machinery remains inadequate, you must pile up manpower.

Skilled workers require time and workload to hone their craft—this new shipyard faces even greater challenges.

The first batch of skilled workers selected by Yingcheng Shipyard have already been sent to Bincheng Shipyard for training.

Next month, a second, third, even fourth batch will be organized…

Xu SiNian explained Yingcheng Shipyard’s technical reserves, primarily from the shipyard itself, plus Bincheng Ships, the steel rolling mill, the steel smelting plant, and Huaqing University, among others.

Talent development and machinery modification capabilities depend more on the shipyard’s own growth and progress, driving new opportunities and creating new capacities.

After listening, Andrew fell silent for a long while, then sighed: “Even so, my engineering team and technical workforce cannot work 24-hour shifts.”

He looked at the inspection team in the dry dock and said seriously: “In the West, such labor intensity belongs to the distant past—I understand developing countries’ demands.”

“But”

Andrew shook his head slightly: “Our company simply cannot do this yet.”

“We don’t insist.”

Li Xuewu smiled at Andrew: “We emphasize self-reliance and hard struggle—including this shipyard, and even the steel smelting plant, steel rolling mill, car factory, and more.”

“I can only say: your future is limitless.”

Andrew was deeply dissatisfied with this labor and management model—and even more so with the workers’ aspirations.

In his own factory, making workers labor like this would land him on the gallows.

Not only would he face industry boycotts, but the ships produced would be rejected by society.

The Western world does not allow the existence of workaholics.

The dock’s atmosphere was peaceful, mutual admiration; below, in the dry dock zone, harmony was absent.

The chief engineer of Jili Star, with the translator’s help, passionately argued with Deputy Chief Engineer Zhao Hongtu over which dry dock should be dedicated to yacht production for easier design, construction, and modification.

Yingcheng Shipyard has four dry docks—three large, one small. Zhao Hongtu proposed giving them the small one, better suited for yacht construction.

But David disagreed—he wanted a large one, so multiple vessels could be built simultaneously, faster and easier, saving engineering time.

Andrew listened to the argument below and cast a meaningful glance at Li Xuewu.

But Li Xuewu ignored the technical dispute below—he pointed at the luxury yacht moored far down the dock and asked about Italy’s shipbuilding environment.

“Actually, it’s not as healthy as your shipbuilding industry.”

Andrew shrugged helplessly: “Italy’s coastline isn’t as long as yours, but you have far fewer shipyards.”

“I’m not comparing or boasting.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking seriously at Li Xuewu: “You understand what I mean, right?”

“Understood—it’s fierce competition.”

Li Xuewu smiled slightly: “Like your developed countries—fat people are numerous, but mostly poor and unhealthy; thin people are few, yet exclusive to the rich. In our case, it’s reversed.”

“Hahaha~”

Andrew laughed and waved his hand. Though surprising, he thought about it—there was some truth to it.

He said inland shipbuilding was healthy and low-pressure precisely because inland China currently lacks shipbuilding capacity and development potential.

To say one word—poverty—isn’t excessive.

Italy is wealthy, yet its shipyards are bloated, competition fierce, costs high, and the shipbuilding environment unhealthy.

He shook his head, smiling bitterly: “Do you know why my father gave me this yacht?”

“It was an act of desperation!”

He sighed deeply and nodded: “If not for intense competition, why would I travel thousands of miles to develop in Asia and cooperate with you? Right?”

“Heh, pros and cons.”

Li Xuewu smiled: “Fierce competition means faster technological iteration—the first to master advanced tech earns the first profit.”

“Exactly.”

Andrew nodded, pointing at the machining workshop: “I can’t imagine building a workshop this large—it’s too wasteful.”

He turned back to his yacht: “Our family’s shipyard invests most funds in R&D and technological leadership.”

“So you’re choosing another path, right?”

Li Xuewu smiled and tapped his foot: “With technology that isn’t leading, we seek ultra-low-cost manufacturing processes and opportunities, testing the yacht market’s lower end.”

“Hahaha!”

Andrew paid no mind to Li Xuewu’s words, laughing and nodding: “This is precisely why I came to negotiate cooperation with you!”

“Exactly!”

Li Xuewu also smiled: “We need technology, orders, this work—this is a win-win!”

“I like your thinking!”

Andrew pointed at Li Xuewu and smiled: “I’ve never seen such thinking in so many young people—you combine forward-thinking management with sharp insight.”

“You flatter me~”

Li Xuewu shook his head with a smile: “Among us, people like me are everywhere—countless.”

“Hahaha!”

Andrew clearly didn’t believe Li Xuewu—he knew the Chinese preferred humility and avoided self-promotion.

Though he’d met Li Xuewu only briefly and infrequently, his judgment of people was sharp.

Rather than investing in Yingcheng Shipyard, he was really investing in Li Xuewu.

He gazed at the distant sea and murmured: “Right now we’re building small yachts, but in the future, there will be large ones.”

“Like mine.”

Andrew pointed at his yacht and smiled—his meaning was so layered even the accompanying officials behind him caught it.

Li Xuewu stood with Xu SiNian here, accompanying the Italian, breathing sea air, boasting, trading veiled barbs—his motives were far from pure.

And this old Italian who crossed oceans to roam Asia wasn’t a fool—he answered flawlessly, even exposing Li Xuewu’s secret intent to learn from him.

But Li Xuewu didn’t care, just as Andrew didn’t care that he’d been seen through.

“Could you tell us about Hongcheng’s shipbuilding situation?”

He smiled and gestured to Xu SiNian and others: “We’re isolated here—we want to understand the outside world, including across the sea: Ghostland and Nanhan.”

“…”

Well! This wasn’t just about learning secretly—it was outright malice, planning to learn everything and starve the master!

After returning from the site, night had fallen; everyone was shivering in the sea wind.

Yet the engineers’ debate remained heated—as if they felt no cold.

Before dinner, the shipyard arranged a meeting to allow all sides to voice opinions.

As soon as the meeting began, both sides’ engineering representatives began speaking actively, aiming to create favorable advantages for upcoming business negotiations.

The first disputes centered on dry dock selection and equipment investment.

Yingcheng Shipyard’s position: the other side’s demands are outrageous!

The Project Department has independent personnel management, independent material management, and independent equipment management—this is practically selling off the factory!

Deputy Chief Engineer Zhao Hongtu argued that such a management system would lead to waste of technical equipment and manpower.

We should coordinate all resources from the perspective of Yingcheng Shipyard as a whole.

Jili Star’s explanation was that an independent project department requires independent authority, because they feared that in later stages of cooperation, the shipyard might use these conditions to threaten them.

Even if the shipyard doesn’t actively threaten, if a sudden event or force majeure occurs and they refuse to provide construction capacity, won’t they suffer losses?

From this issue, the focus gradually expanded from shipbuilding technology to every aspect of the problem, with both sides meticulously nitpicking and calculating every step, neither willing to give the other an inch.

This is like warfare and negotiation—warfare is waged to achieve better negotiations, so the fiercer the fighting, the easier the talks.

Do Li Xuewu and Andrew show any intention to step in or mediate?

Verbal sparring doesn’t hurt anyone’s body; we pay people precisely to do this.

Xu Siyear, however, was shrewdly calculating—he waited until the arguments had nearly exhausted themselves before stepping forward as a peacemaker, saying dinner was ready and they should eat first, then resume discussion afterward.

Some engineers from Yingcheng Shipyard still felt indignant, but look at the engineers from Jili Star Shipyard.

The moment the meeting was declared adjourned, these fellows instantly shed their hostile expressions and lavished the shipyard’s hospitality with friendliness.

This left the shipyard’s side bewildered, unsure what game the other side was playing.

It was Xu Siyear who privately explained: they’re all working for capitalists—work is work, life is life.

Their salary is fixed; they won’t let workplace grudges spill over into their personal lives.

This deflated Zhao Hongtu and the others, who now felt their earlier arguments had been little more than a farce.

We’re all just employees—what’s the point of fighting so hard?

Tonight’s banquet was still lavish; while not overly extravagant, the dishes retained their unique flavor.

After spending the afternoon exposed to sea winds and engaged in endless verbal battles, everyone was exhausted.

Especially Liu Shaozong and his two companions—they’d been too angry to eat properly at lunch and had gone hungry all afternoon; tonight’s meal was a long-overdue compensation.

None of them had realized how good the shipyard’s meals actually were.

Perhaps because evening had arrived and official duties were over, baijiu appeared on the table.

Li Xuewu tentatively offered some to Andrew, and the old man clearly enjoyed it.

Seeing he was willing to drink, the atmosphere warmed up; servers began pouring wine, faces flushed, and conversation grew looser.

Andrew spontaneously shared his experiences with drinking culture in Gangcheng, saying people there were more refined and had begun studying blended Chinese-Western dining customs.

Just as everyone at the table was enjoying the stories, several personal secretaries suddenly entered, abruptly halting the merriment.

Peng Xiao, like the other secretaries, stepped behind Li Xuewu and whispered in his ear: “Leader, something’s happened in Shanghai…”

As Peng Xiao spoke, Xu Siyear, Liu Shaozong, Gao Yaqin, Zhou Gancheng, and others all lifted their heads, staring at Li Xuewu in stunned silence.

According to the secretary’s report, this unrest involved hundreds of thousands of people; based on the latest information, it would not be contained to Shanghai alone.

Previously, the Great Study campaign had remained relatively mild—even when intense, it had been under control.

But now it had suddenly taken a sharp, unpredictable turn toward escalation; the future was uncertain.

Liu Shaozong and his two companions sat frozen, bewildered—how had such a massive incident erupted?

They stared at Li Xuewu, wondering whether he possessed foresight—or whether this had all been premeditated.