pertwk Chapter 487 Qualcomm's Agreement
Chapter 487 Qualcomm's Agreement
Qualcomm agreed to sit down and talk in the fall of 2006.
Over the past two years, they have simultaneously sued Spark in four jurisdictions around the world, filed three Section 337 investigations, and obtained a temporary sales injunction from the Mannheim court in Germany.
The legal documents submitted by Xinghuo's legal department could fill half a filing cabinet. The two sides fought more than a dozen rounds in court, with each side winning and losing.
Qualcomm eventually called back, saying it was willing to restart cross-licensing negotiations.
The negotiation location was set in Singapore, at a relatively unknown business center.
Qualcomm sent six people, led by Michael, the senior vice president of global licensing business, who was still the same guy with very short hair and a habit of crossing his fingers on the table before speaking.
Five people arrived from Xinghuo's side: Ling Yun, Lao Zhou from the legal department, patent lawyer Gu Mingyuan, Chen Zhongming, and Zhao Hu.
"Two and a half percent of the price of each phone," Michael said, pushing the draft agreement towards him. "This is our final offer. It's half of the five percent we paid two years ago."
Old Zhou took the draft agreement, flipped to the patent list pages, and read through them one by one. After a long time, he stopped at a certain page, pointed to a line of text, and pushed the document in front of Ling Yun. Ling Yun glanced down at it.
"You've bundled LTE's standard essential patents into the attachment. LTE isn't even commercially available yet; we haven't even started designing the relevant chips. And you're already asking for money?"
"This is a forward-looking clause. Qualcomm has already invested more than two billion dollars in LTE research and development."
"Then let's wait until LTE is commercially available before discussing it further." Lingyun pushed the draft agreement back. "For now, let's only discuss WCDMA. I agree in principle to the 2.5% royalty rate, but only for 3G standard essential patents. Qualcomm also acknowledges that it will pay Spark corresponding licensing fees for Spark's non-communication patent portfolio—power-saving technology, touch algorithms, and GPU architecture. The most crucial point is: no lawsuits against each other globally."
Michael exchanged a glance with the legal director next to him.
The negotiations lasted from 10 a.m. until 8 p.m.
There were two pauses in the middle. The whiteboard in the business center was covered with various rate formulas and patent comparison tables, with densely packed numbers stacked together.
The final signed agreement was over thirty pages long, with the core clauses being the ones Lingyun just mentioned: Spark acknowledges Qualcomm's essential 3G standard patents at a rate of 2.5%; Qualcomm acknowledges Spark's non-communication patents and will pay corresponding licensing fees; and the two companies will not sue each other globally.
After signing, Michael stood up and extended his hand. "Mr. Ling, this agreement is what we obtained by exchanging hundreds of core patents developed independently. It doesn't mean we won against Qualcomm, but it gives us a fair chance to compete." Ling Yun shook his hand, said nothing more, and turned to leave. As he reached the door, Michael said something behind him.
"Mr. Ling, do you know why Qualcomm ultimately agreed to make concessions?"
Ling Yun turned around.
"Because of your Noah's Ark." Michael's expression was complicated. "Our technical team evaluated the baseband chip architecture you are developing. Frankly, we originally expected Chinese companies wouldn't be able to commercialize baseband chips until at least 2010. You've done it at least three years ahead of schedule."
Ling Yun did not answer. He walked out of the business center. The Singapore night wind was hot and humid.
The real phone call came late one night three months later from Liang Mengsong.
Ling Yun was already asleep. His phone vibrated three times on the bedside table before he woke up. When he answered, Liang Mengsong didn't speak; only heavy, suppressed breathing could be heard on the other end of the line. Ling Yun instantly snapped awake—something had happened.
"President Ling." Liang Mengsong's voice was very soft, almost swallowed up by something in the background, but there was a string trembling slightly in his voice, "The WCDMA baseband chip of Noah's Ark has made its first call."
Ling Yun's wrist, holding his phone, lay outside the blanket, motionless. It was still dark outside; the winter night in Jinan was quiet, with the occasional sound of a truck rumbling across the road in the distance. Liang Mengsong continued, speaking slowly, each word as if confirming it wasn't a dream. He said it was past two in the morning, the air conditioning in the lab was blasting, and someone was wrapped in a coat, squatting beside the test bench. He connected the antenna module to the development board riddled with wires, inserted the test SIM card, and pressed the dial button. A waiting tone came from the speaker, beep—beep—beep—then click—the call connected.
"Feed?"
The voice on the other end of the phone was that of a security guard on duty, sounding annoyed at being woken up. But no one in the lab spoke. Some covered their mouths, some turned to face the wall, and some sat in chairs staring at the waveforms jumping on the oscilloscope, tears streaming down their cheeks without them even realizing it.
Liang Mengsong paused here. Ling Yun heard him take a deep breath on the other end of the phone, and then the taut string finally snapped. It wasn't a loud wail, but rather a series of intermittent sobs, the kind that had been suppressed for a long time, slowly squeezed out from his throat.
"Lingyun, we did it."
"You did it." Ling Yun's voice was a little hoarse. He turned on the bedside lamp, its warm yellow light illuminating half the bed. He repeated Liang Mengsong's words, "Please thank everyone on the team for me."
After hanging up the phone, he sat on the edge of the bed without moving. Snowflakes began to fall outside the window, very light and small, melting as they landed on the windowpane. He picked up his phone, opened the draft interface of the Xinghuo Group's all-staff email, and typed four words as the title. The body of the email contained only one sentence.
"Our baseband chip made the first phone call. Thank you to everyone who contributed to this. We've been on this path for three years, and we will continue to walk it. But today, we can pause for a moment and remember this moment."
He pressed send. Then he placed his phone on the bedside table and lay back down. The snowflakes outside the window fell heavier and heavier, whipped by the wind and pattering against the glass. He remembered his first visit to the Noah's Ark base in Hong Kong three years ago, when Leung Meng-sung stood in front of that unmarked gray concrete building and said that every single chip inside was made by the Chinese themselves. Back then, there was no snow outside, only the scorching tropical sun and the salty sea breeze.