Chen Mo furrowed his brows and set his book down. "It's this late, and they're pulling out now? That's… abrupt."
Zhao Min's tone over the call was tense. "That's exactly the problem."
She took a deep breath.
"We finalized everything today—the partnership terms, the contract details, even the signing ceremony was scheduled for tomorrow morning. Then just now, they contacted us and said everything's off. They've voided the agreement entirely."
"So they either want to renegotiate... or not cooperate at all?" Chen Mo asked, voice steady.
"Exactly. But we don't know which. On the surface, everything seemed sincere. It made no sense."
"Hmm… if they're pulling something this last-minute, it's probably a play for leverage. If they're not serious, just wrap it up and come home. We can slow down on the European expansion for now."
"I agree. I just wanted to inform you in advance. This trip might not bring anything back."
Zhao Min's voice was flat. She'd been through many negotiations, but this bait-and-switch maneuver was unusually bold.
Chen Mo responded calmly, "No need to waste more time. If tomorrow they're not serious, cut it off and fly back."
"Understood."
After ending the call, Zhao Min walked to the hotel window. Outside, the Danube shimmered under the city lights, picturesque and quiet.
But beneath the beautiful facade was a city ruled by capital—not by trust.
This wasn't home. This was Europe, where interests reigned, and every deal had a dozen invisible strings.
Letting out a breath, she turned from the window and lay on the bed.
It was clear now: the international expansion of the Marching Ant Company wouldn't come easily.
The next morning.
Zhao Min arrived at the Altice Group's headquarters with Zhu Li and the rest of the delegation.
When she entered the conference room and saw CEO Kang Bomin, she didn't waste time on pleasantries.
"Mr. Kang," Zhao Min said directly, "we had a clear agreement yesterday. So why the sudden cancellation?"
Her tone was clipped, barely hiding the irritation in her voice.
She'd spent days here building this partnership—and now it was being torn up like an expired flyer.
Kang Bomin adjusted his glasses, smiling faintly after hearing the translated words.
"Please, Ms. Zhao, don't be upset," he said, gesturing for her to sit. "The issue wasn't mine. The board rejected the terms we discussed. My hands are tied."
Zhao Min didn't sit.
"What are your terms now?" she asked coolly.
Kang Bomin smiled, unbothered. "We still wish to cooperate. But in a more meaningful way. We propose acquiring 10% equity in the Marching Ant Company. With our support and resources, we can accelerate your growth, push your phones into the European market, and even squeeze Apple out. The potential gains are immense."
Zhao Min's expression froze.
So that was their game.
They didn't want a deal. They wanted a piece of the company.
She knew Kang Bomin's background—formerly CEO of Alcatel-Lucent, with deep ties in Europe's telecom landscape. He understood this market.
But the board's rejection clearly came with a hidden agenda.
They weren't interested in being distributors. They wanted control, or at least a foothold inside.
Zhao Min's reply was swift and cold: "Impossible. The Marching Ant Company will never sell shares."
Kang Bomin raised a brow, still smiling. "Ms. Zhao, you're passing up enormous opportunity. Europe is vast. With our backing, you'd gain a foothold instantly. What's 10% for all that?"
"No interest," she said firmly. "If there's no deal, I won't waste any more time."
Zhao Min turned and walked out without looking back.
"Ms. Zhao," Kang called after her, his tone hardening. "If you walk away now, the entire European market will be closed to you. We won't participate in operations—just hold equity."
Zhao Min didn't respond.
Behind her, Kang's smile faded.
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"They refused," he said simply. "The Marching Ant Company won't sell shares."
"Then lock them out," came the reply on the other end. Cold. Final.
Within the hour, major European telecom operators began receiving orders from their parent conglomerates:
Do not cooperate with the Marching Ant Company.
Just like that, the door was slammed shut.
That evening, back at the hotel, Zhao Min looked down at her phone and let out a long breath.
"They've moved fast," she said to Zhu Li. "We tried reaching other operators—and got shut down."
Zhao Min was calm on the surface, but the implications were clear. Europe's telecom giants had coordinated.
The Marching Ant Company had been officially blacklisted.
She checked the time, then called Chen Mo.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
"Worse than expected," Zhao Min replied. "They changed the conditions—just like we guessed. The Altice Group wanted 10% equity in exchange for distribution support."
"Figures," Chen Mo muttered. "Can we find another partner?"
"I tried. The top telecom companies are aligned. Altice is just the spearhead. The rest followed right after we declined. We've been blocked."
She paused, then added, "They monopolize the market here. Hardware, software, infrastructure—it's all tied to them. We're outsiders. No one's willing to help us break in."
Chen Mo didn't speak for a moment.
"Looks like we'll have to rely on ourselves," he finally said, a faint smile in his voice.
Zhao Min chuckled. "It wouldn't be the first time. We've fought through worse. We'll just take the long road this time."
"Agreed. No need to linger. Come back home—we'll talk in person."
"Got it."
The next morning, Zhao Min and the rest of the Marching Ant delegation boarded a plane and returned to China—leaving behind a shuttered European door and a new problem to solve.
But as always, where one road ends, another begins.
And Marching Ant had never relied on open roads.
They built their own.