Chapter 55: Xiaomi Heavy Industry, First Entrepreneurship

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Protagonist:

Lin Yi

At the very end of the assembly line is the quality inspector's position.

The assembly line sends one electric pressure cooker after another to the quality inspector; the inspector takes the electric pressure cooker, powers it on, presses the power button, and presses the various function keys.

After the function tests pass, the inspector places it onto another conveyor belt, which carries it to the true end of the line.

There lies the work of the packing department.

The packing department's transporters wait there with carts; the electric pressure cookers delivered by the assembly line are loaded onto the carts by the transporters, and once a cart is full it is immediately sent to the elevator, taken downstairs, and delivered to the warehouse.

Ahmed stands to the side; every time an electric pressure cooker comes off the line, he counts one.

But the assembly line is too fast — the more he counts, the more he realizes his brain can't keep up; counting away, he loses count.

Not knowing how many times he has miscounted, he decisively gives up on this boring idea, folds his arms across his chest, and quietly watches the assembly line work.

After watching for a long time, he finally turns and walks toward Lin Yi, stops beside Lin Yi, raises his hand and points at the assembly line:

"Mr. Lin, are you sure all these things have the same effect?"

"Yes!" Lin Yi nods very decisively, beckons to Ahmed with a wave of his hand, turns and walks toward the nearby elevator:

"Mr. Ahmed, let's go to the first floor, sit down, and have a good cup of tea."

"I also happen to have something I want to talk to you about."

On the first day of production testing for the new equipment and new production line, the first-floor production workshop office naturally emptied out.

After guiding Ahmed to sit on the sofa and serving this guest from afar a cup of hot tea, Lin Yi sits down opposite with a broad smile and asks:

"I wonder what Mr. Khalid has been busy with these past couple of days?"

Suddenly hearing this question, Ahmed's hand holding the tea pauses; he secretly glances up at Lin Yi, then quickly withdraws his gaze, and silently sets the teacup down — only then does he begin to ponder what Lin Yi's purpose is in calling him here.

Delivery?

Or does the other party want to raise the price temporarily?

Or perhaps there is some other purpose?

With production efficiency this high, still thinking of raising the price — that would be not authentic.

Thinking back and forth, unable to figure out Lin Yi's purpose, Ahmed wearily closes his eyes, lifts the teacup again, and replies with a drifting gaze:

"What else could I be busy with? Nothing more than contacting international logistics, taking a batch of goods back first, the rest by cargo ship."

After speaking of Khalid's work these past two days, Ahmed sets the teacup down, sits bolt upright, and then quietly watches Lin Yi.

He watches for a long time; it seems he has steeled his resolve, or perhaps summoned his courage — he leans forward, eyes fixed straight on Lin Yi, and asks:

"Mr. Lin called me here; there should be another purpose, right?"

Clap clap clap!

Answering Ahmed is the sound of Lin Yi's applause.

The applause is intense; Lin Yi claps for a full minute and more before finally stopping, then immediately crosses his legs, right elbow resting naturally on the raised knee.

With this movement, his whole body leans forward, and combined with that faint, barely-there smile on his face, the current Lin Yi looks like a smiling tiger — and at the same time extremely aggressive.

Under Ahmed's gaze, Lin Yi smiles faintly and speaks calmly:

"I called you here today because there is actually a piece of intelligence I want to share with you."

The moment his words fall, the Ahmed opposite instantly changes — in his blue eyes that faint clarity vanishes, leaving only coldness.

His right hand, under Lin Yi's watch, slowly clenches into a fist at his side.

Lin Yi's words leave Ahmed not knowing whether to laugh or to cry.

They have been guessing Lin Yi's identity all along.

They have been guessing that the other party holds an official identity and is simultaneously the executor of a mysterious plan; only that could explain why their group, upon arriving in China, immediately ran into Lin Yi, and why he provided what they needed.

But all of this is merely guesswork.

When the guesswork becomes reality, they don't know what to do.

It is both fear and fear!

At this moment, the forward-leaning Lin Yi straightens up, lowers his crossed leg, sinks lazily back into the sofa, examines Ahmed with a teasing gaze, and after a while says softly:

"You don't need to be that afraid; this intelligence — you may have also come into contact with it, only you may not have taken it to heart."

"The core content of the intelligence is that the NATO organization led by America is plotting an operation targeting Islamic countries."

"The code name of this operation is called the Arab Spring."

"Or rather, they may have already begun the operation; it's just that all activities are hidden in the shadows and have not yet been exposed."

"If you are interested, you can study those Arab countries that have been loudly promoting freedom and democracy during this period."

"Study them, and you will discover the problem."

Having delivered the intelligence in an ambiguous way, Lin Yi leans forward, picks up the teapot on the table, grabs a glass cup, and pours himself a full cup of tea.

Cradling the tea with both hands, he drinks leisurely and contentedly.

Intelligence is intelligence — you have to let people digest it; otherwise, others will think this so-called intelligence is fake.

Unlike his composure, Ahmed at this moment appears extremely un-composed.

Being able to study in London, being able to come to China for trade — he counts as a talent within the Sadell Movement.

Naturally he can hear the implication contained in Lin Yi's words just now.

The implication is that the NATO organization led by America is preparing to move against the entire Islamic world, not like before when they singled out Iraq for a beating.

In his plan, he only saw America's contempt for the Islamic world.

Damn it, so many Islamic believers, damn America, really looking down on them too much...

Ahmed pressed his lips into a line, and in the end swallowed back the curses he had wanted to hurl.

A plate of loose sand...

No wonder Americans look down on them.

Snorting irritably, Ahmed looked at Lin Yi and asked in a low voice:

"Then Mr. Lin, you've synchronized this intelligence with us, so can you tell us your purpose?"

The question had barely left his mouth when Ahmed saw the man opposite raise his right hand, his slender right index finger raised, gently waving there, and the meaning of that wave was naturally: don't ask.

In this moment, this young man from Iraq wanted to curse someone, but he couldn't bring himself to say it.

Because this was someone else's turf, and moreover the other side could understand Arabic; if he cursed them, whether he could walk out alive was a question.

Forcibly suppressing all his displeasure, Ahmed reorganized his thoughts and asked Lin Yi again:

"Then Mr. Lin, besides this intelligence, do you... have anything else you want to say to us?"

On the sofa, Lin Yi, looking lazy, heard these words, opened his clothes zipper, and from the inner pocket on his left chest pulled out a folded sheet of A4 Paper.

With a light flick of his wrist, the folded sheet of A4 Paper crossed the distance between them and landed in Ahmed's arms.

"This is for you!"