pertwk Chapter 167 Liu Chuanzhi
Chapter 167 Liu Chuanzhi
Inside the private room of the Jinling Hotel, the air conditioner emitted a low hum.
Liu Chuanzhi stood up and picked up his wine glass with both hands. The wine was fifteen-year-old Moutai, and the glasses clinked together with a crisp sound.
"Director Zhang, on behalf of all the employees of Yixiang Company, I would like to toast you." After he finished speaking, he tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp.
Zhang Weimin sat in the main seat; he was in his early fifties, and his hair was neatly combed.
He took a sip of his drink, placing the glass back on the table almost silently. "Mr. Liu, you're too kind. I've heard about your company, Yixiang, which originated from the Chinese Academy of Sciences."
"I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it." Liu Chuanzhi sat down and winked at his assistant next to him.
The assistant immediately stood up, took several bound documents from his briefcase, and handed them to Zhang Weimin with both hands. "Director, these are our company's latest product information, as well as application reports from several pilot schools under the Ministry of Education."
Zhang Weimin took the document and opened it to the first page. His gaze swept over the charts and data, his fingers lightly tracing the edges of the pages.
The waiter began serving the dishes. Steamed shad, Nanjing salted duck, and stewed pork knuckle were all local Nanjing dishes. Liu Chuanzhi picked up the serving chopsticks, took a piece of duck breast, and placed it on the bone plate in front of Zhang Weimin.
"Director, have a taste. This restaurant's duck is quite authentic."
Zhang Weimin nodded, but didn't touch his chopsticks. He turned to the third page of the document, where a photo showed the application of the "Imagine Computer" in a primary school in a mountainous area. Children were gathered around the computer, and the screen displayed pinyin teaching software.
"How many schools have you implemented your 'Computers in Schools' program?"
"There are already more than 300 such institutions nationwide." Liu Chuanzhi put down his chopsticks and leaned forward slightly. "But we're facing a tough road. Foreign brands are driving down prices aggressively. IBM and Compaq are offering machines that are several hundred yuan cheaper than ours. Local governments prioritize price when making purchases."
Zhang Weimin raised his eyelids and glanced at him.
"I know," he said. "This year's provincial budget for education informatization was 60 million yuan, but the finance department only approved 48 million yuan."
Liu Chuanzhi sighed. The sigh was neither too loud nor too soft, just loud enough for the other person to hear, but not too deliberate.
"So we, as national enterprises, are really gritting our teeth and persevering," he said. "Do you know how much profit we make on a single machine? Less than five percent. Why do we still continue? It's because we don't want Chinese children to grow up using foreign machines and learning foreign systems."
He paused, observing Zhang Weimin's expression.
The director tapped his fingers on the document.
"I've heard that some new companies are also doing this," Zhang Weimin said. "Isn't there a company in Shandong called... Xinghuo?"
Liu Chuanzhi's smile froze for half a second.
"You're well-informed." He smiled again, but the smile was a little fainter. "There is such a company. It's run by young people, started in an internet cafe, and now they're making hardware too."
He picked up his teacup and took a sip of water.
"It's good that young people are energetic. But I've seen their products. They use AMD chips, self-assembled motherboards, and the operating system is..." He shook his head. "They created some kind of 'Star System,' claiming it's self-developed, but it's really just modified foreign open-source code. What about its security? What about its stability? These are all problems."
Zhang Weimin didn't say anything. He picked up the piece of duck breast, put it in his mouth, and chewed it slowly.
Liu Chuanzhi waited until he swallowed the food before continuing to speak.
"The education system isn't an ordinary market. The machines children use, the systems teachers use in class—these involve information security and the protection of teaching data. It's not just about having a shell and being able to power on." He lowered his voice slightly. "We come from the Institute of Computing Technology, Chinese Academy of Sciences; every line of code undergoes rigorous testing. What about their systems? Who conducts security audits? Who is responsible if problems arise?"
The private room was silent for a few seconds. Outside the window, the sky had darkened, and the lights of Nanjing were coming on one by one.
Zhang Weimin put down his chopsticks, picked up a napkin, and wiped the corner of his mouth.
"I know you're a subsidiary of the Chinese Academy of Sciences," he said. "But there are regulations for the procurement process; it requires open bidding and cost-effectiveness evaluation. I can't just... because you're a 'national brand'..."
"I understand, I completely understand," Liu Chuanzhi interrupted him, his tone sincere. "Rules are rules, and they must be followed. What I mean is, under the same conditions, could you perhaps give some consideration to the company's background and long-term service capabilities?"
He took another document from his assistant.
"This is our proposed 'Three-Year Service Plan for Educational Informatization in Jiangsu Province.' If the province purchases our equipment, we promise: First, to establish after-sales service centers in all thirteen cities in the province; second, to provide free training for information technology teachers in primary and secondary schools throughout the province; and third, to customize and develop teaching software to meet the local teaching needs of Jiangsu."
Zhang Weimin took the plan and began to look through it. This time, he examined it more carefully than before.
Liu Chuanzhi noticed that the director's gaze lingered longest on "free training" and "customized development".
"These are services that foreign brands probably don't offer, right?" Zhang Weimin asked.
"They won't," Liu Chuanzhi said. "For them, China is just a sales market. Once the machines are sold and the money is received, that's it. But we're different. We are a Chinese company, and education is a long-term endeavor. We are willing to invest in it."
As he spoke, he poured himself another glass of wine.
"Director Zhang, I'm not being frivolous. What's the current state of China's computer industry? Foreign giants monopolize the high-end market, while a bunch of small workshops in China assemble knock-off machines. There are very few truly technologically advanced, large-scale, and willing-to-invest-in-research-and-develop national brands. Our company, Yixiang, is one of them, and we bear a heavy responsibility."
He raised his glass.
"This toast is not for anything else, but simply because we can still hold on in this market. It's to prevent China's information technology development from being completely controlled by foreign companies."
Zhang Weimin looked at him for about three seconds.
Then, the director raised his glass.
The two glasses clinked together again. This time, the sound was slightly deeper than before.
After several rounds of drinks, the food had gone cold. Liu Chuanzhi asked the waiter to bring a few more hot dishes, but Zhang Weimin waved his hand, indicating that it wasn't necessary.
"That's enough for today," he said. "I'll take your materials back and take a look. The province is indeed planning a new round of educational informatization construction, but the specific plan hasn't been finalized yet."
Liu Chuanzhi stood up. "Then I'll wait for news from the department. If there's any additional material needed, just have my secretary contact my assistant."
Zhang Weimin nodded. He put on the suit jacket draped over the back of the chair, his movements slow and steady. His assistant had already gone out to arrange transportation.
When he reached the door of the private room, Zhang Weimin stopped and turned around.
"Your customized teaching software," he said, "would be a highlight if it could be paired with local textbooks in Jiangsu."
Liu Chuanzhi's eyes lit up.
"We've already started working on it. It's compatible with both the People's Education Press and Jiangsu Education Press versions, and we can also make minor adjustments based on the needs of each school."
"Yes," Zhang Weimin said, "Do it thoroughly. Education is not something to be taken lightly."
"Don't worry."
After seeing Zhang Weimin into the car, Liu Chuanzhi stood at the restaurant entrance and lit a cigarette. His assistant stood half a step behind him.
"Mr. Liu, what do you think...?"
"There's hope," Liu Chuanzhi said, exhaling a puff of smoke. "But it's not enough."
He recalled the news he'd heard in Beijing last month: that young man named Ling Yun had already contacted education departments in several provinces. He was moving quickly, driving down prices, and even touting the "safe and controllable domestically produced system."
"I'll do two things when I get back." Liu Chuanzhi threw his cigarette butt into the trash can. "First, I'll have the R&D department speed up the development of the software supporting the Jiangsu Education Edition. I want to see a test version next month. Second, I'll contact our media relations in Beijing and prepare a series of articles on the topic of 'What is a truly domestically produced computer'—emphasizing that assembling foreign parts does not equal domestic production, and modifying open-source code does not equal independent control."
The assistant quickly took notes.
"Also," Liu Chuanzhi opened the car door and sat in the back seat, "check out the background of that Xinghuo Company. Especially their founder, Ling Yun. I need to know who he met in Nanjing recently."
The car entered the nighttime traffic. Liu Chuanzhi leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
The summer of 1997 was drawing to a close in Nanjing, as seen through the car window. Richie Jen's "Too Softhearted" drifted from a music store on the street, and cyclists weaved past, their shadows stretched long by the streetlights.
Liu Chuanzhi knew that Zhang Weimin's statement today was just the beginning. The department head didn't promise anything, but he accepted the plan, remembered "customized development" and "free training," and even specifically mentioned the accompanying teaching materials.
This is enough.
What remains is for the company to deliver something truly impressive, ensuring that its pricing, service, and political correctness all meet or exceed the department's expectations.
The car stopped at a red light. Liu Chuanzhi opened his eyes and glanced out the window.
Across the street was a newly opened internet cafe, its sign flashing the words "Starry Sky Internet Cafe." Through the glass windows, you could see it was full of young people, their faces illuminated by the blue light of the screens.
Liu Chuanzhi stared at the sign for a few seconds.
Then he rolled up the car window and said to the driver, "Let's go."
The car restarted and merged into the nighttime traffic.