"There's not much telecom influence? That's just an excuse. Walid has no intention of cooperating with us on mobile phones."
In Chen Mo's office, he, Zhao Min, and Xiao Yu were seated on the sofa, drinking tea and discussing the meeting from the day before.
Zhao Min wore a puzzled expression.
"Judging from Walid's response, his claim about lacking telecom resources feels like a polite brush-off. If they truly wanted to collaborate, smartphones would be the most natural direction. His outright refusal... it's strange."
She had already begun preparing to spin off the mobile phone division to focus on international expansion. But the moment they saw a chance, the door had slammed shut.
Xiao Yu, sitting to the side, didn't speak—she simply poured tea for the two of them, quietly listening.
Taking a sip, Chen Mo said calmly, "It's not strange. Their refusal is expected. We're not playing by the same rules."
"The Marching Ant Company has disrupted the global order," he continued. "There are certain fields where collaboration just isn't possible."
At the same time, inside Walid's hotel suite, his think tank was similarly puzzled.
"They've broken the rules?" one advisor asked, raising a brow.
"They want to monopolize?" said another.
Walid nodded lightly. "Exactly."
He recalled a conversation at a cruise party in Paris. One of his longtime friends—France Telecom's CEO, Richard—brought up the Marching Ant Company during a private chat. Western corporate and financial elites viewed them as dangerous—an uncontrollable force. Without cooperation, without investment access, there would be no leverage. And that terrified them.
If allowed to grow unchecked, Marching Ant could become a second Samsung—a tech titan outside Western control.
The two advisors immediately understood.
In the West, capital is deeply intertwined. Banks, corporations, tech giants—nearly all are entangled through cross-shareholding. It's a vast, tightly knit ecosystem.
But Chen Mo was different. He held 100% control over Marching Ant. No outside stakeholders. No profit-sharing. No entry point.
That's not how the Western system worked.
In China, state-owned enterprises dominate. When a Chinese company like Marching Ant rises up, it's seen as an extension of national power. That makes them impossible to divide, impossible to control—and far more dangerous in the eyes of Western capital.
Without equity, there's no long-term interest. And without that, the global financial web has no reason to let Marching Ant succeed. They won't open the market to a company they can't influence.
"But eventually, Marching Ant will break into the circle," said one advisor. "Better to be an early ally than a late one."
Walid gave a small nod. "We already are allies. We're selling their robots. That's cooperation. But the telecom sector? It's off the table."
Companies like Huawei already had their base stations scattered across Europe. Rich Chinese businessmen like Li Ka-shing held major telecom shares. They'd be the ideal partners for Marching Ant—yet even they hadn't made any moves.
The reason was simple: no shares, no leverage.
And for Walid, who held a stake in Apple, helping Marching Ant enter the phone market would mean hurting his own investments. He had nothing to gain—and everything to lose—by helping them enter the global phone war.
But robots? That was different.
Robotics didn't yet clash with existing industry interests. The market was open, untapped, and low-risk.
Later that evening, Walid summoned his team back into the hotel's conference room.
"We'll move forward with exclusive robot distribution," he said. "Prepare the proposal. I want pricing models, logistics strategies, and delivery timelines finalized by tomorrow."
The room buzzed with quiet urgency as his think tank began drafting a plan.
At the Marching Ant side, the robot business team also began burning the midnight oil. Both sides were gearing up for the negotiation.
The next morning, Walid once again arrived at Marching Ant's headquarters—this time with his full team in tow. Executives from Marching Ant's marketing department were already assembled.
"What about Mr. Chen Mo?" Walid asked as he shook hands with Zhao Min.
"The boss is in the lab working on research. He's left the business matters to me," Zhao Min replied with a polite smile.
Walid didn't seem offended. "Alright then. Let's get to it."
They entered the conference room and took their seats.
"General Manager Zhao," Walid said, "I want exclusive distribution rights in the Middle East."
"That's acceptable," Zhao Min replied immediately.
They had already anticipated this request. Walid was the first international partner to reach out, and offering him exclusive rights in the Middle East was a fair reward. However, such exclusivity would not be extended to other regions.
"Ms. Zhao, you're quite straightforward," Walid said with a chuckle. "Let's move on to price, then."
After a long night of internal debate, both teams knew exactly where their bottom lines were.
"2.5% agency fee," Walid proposed.
"1%." Zhao Min answered without hesitation. "Mr. Walid, we both know that rate is unrealistic."
"I've heard bargaining is a national skill in China," Walid grinned. "So let's both be generous. 2%—a good start to our partnership."
"1.3%. You're our exclusive partner in the Middle East. Others would be lining up for that deal. But 2%? That's just not feasible."
Walid paused, studying her expression. "How about 1.8%?"
"Still too high. 1.35%. That's our final offer."
Walid's smile faded slightly. "You can't compare us to regular distributors. This is a unique case."
Both sides knew this was a poker game—each testing the other's bottom line.
After over an hour of negotiations, the terms were finalized:
1.51% agency fee, with a $300 million USD deposit to seal the deal.
"Mr. Walid, please confirm the terms," Zhao Min said, handing him the final agreement along with its appendix.
Walid reviewed the document, then signed decisively.
"For the first batch, I want 200 units. The sooner you deliver, the better—ideally within a month."
"So urgent?" Zhao Min asked with raised brows.
"Yes," Walid said with a satisfied smile. "Because those 200 units... are for my own use."
Trench!
(A true local tyrant.)