Leaving the Marching Ant Company, Gao Zhendong's face was as dark as a thundercloud. He hadn't been this humiliated in years.
In the past, wherever he went, people would fawn over him, greet him with smiles, and show deference. He thought he had already lowered himself enough in front of Zhao Min today—yet he was still put in his place.
Looking at the licensing agreement, he could tell one thing very clearly: the Marching Ant Company didn't want to cooperate with them at all.
The realization filled him with growing anxiety.
Smart assistants were the inevitable trend of the mobile industry—no one could stop it. If Samsung missed this train, even if they weren't immediately eliminated, being pushed into the second tier was a real possibility.
There was good money in the mobile internet industry, but the competition was absolutely cutthroat.
Nokia, Sony, Yahoo, Motorola—all former giants, all either acquired or left in the dust for failing to keep up.
No enterprise lasted forever, especially not in mobile tech. The pace of innovation was simply too fast. Fall behind, and it's game over.
While Samsung phones did have their own assistant, it wasn't truly AI—it was still a generation behind.
Now, with multilingual smart assistants supporting Korean, local companies had already started adopting Marching Ant's tech. If they didn't act soon, their home market might get taken over—not to mention international business.
The more he thought about it, the more anxious he became. They had to get the assistant.
But the licensing conditions were impossible to accept. Nearly 20%? No company could absorb that kind of cost.
Their mobile division didn't even make 20% profit margin on each phone.
Sure, they could raise prices—but a 20% increase? That would be suicide. Customers wouldn't buy it, their market share would nosedive, and even worse, they'd be paying out all that money to Marching Ant.
The only way forward was to negotiate a lower price. But this was something that had to be discussed with upper management. He had no idea where the board or executive team would draw the line—he couldn't make that decision on his own.
Beside him, Jin Zhizhang also looked thoroughly dejected. He'd confidently claimed earlier that the Chinese would be easy to handle. Now, this humiliation made him feel like he'd been slapped across the face.
"President… Can't we report Marching Ant for monopolizing the market?" Jin asked cautiously, sensing Gao Zhendong's fury.
"Report?" Gao Zhendong snapped. "To who, exactly? We're in China, Jin. Tell me how you plan to report them?"
His anger burst forth.
Samsung had often used its own monopoly to suppress others. They'd done it to Huawei, Apple, and plenty more. As one of Samsung's senior execs, Gao Zhendong knew how the game worked.
Every country's anti-monopoly laws were primarily tools to target foreign companies—used to protect national interests. If a foreign monopoly hurt local industries, the government would crack down. But when it was the domestic giant monopolizing others? The government would either look away—or even step in to help.
Huaxia would never punish Marching Ant for monopoly. That was just the reality.
"You said Chinese people were easy to deal with. You said lowering our posture would work," Gao Zhendong growled, glaring at him. "Look how well that turned out!"
Jin shrank under the scolding. He dared not talk back, only lowering his head in silence. Inside, he deeply regretted speaking at all.
After a long silence, Gao Zhendong finally calmed down. He'd vented enough.
If Marching Ant refused to cooperate next time, they might be forced to develop a replacement in-house—even if it meant huge costs.
Back in the Marching Ant Company office, Zhao Min looked at Xiao Yu, who wore a puzzled expression.
"Wondering why I did all that?" Zhao Min asked.
Xiao Yu nodded earnestly. She'd been confused all day. Zhao Min's calm performance, her sudden cold attitude—none of it had added up in her mind.
"If we didn't want to cooperate, why meet them at all?" Xiao Yu asked, finally voicing her thoughts.
"You're looking at it the wrong way," Zhao Min said, shaking her head. "Gao Zhendong is the president of Samsung's mobile division—he's part of their executive core. If we refused to meet him outright, the media and public might see it as arrogance. That's not the kind of image we want.
Even if we don't want to work with them, we still need to put on a proper show. If we're careless, we could give our opponents ammunition to use against us."
Xiao Yu nodded slowly, listening carefully.
"Do you remember when they suddenly stopped supplying us with phone screens?" Zhao Min asked.
"Yes."
"Do you really think it was a production issue?"
"I don't think so." Xiao Yu shook her head.
"Why not?"
"At the time, our phones were at their peak popularity," Xiao Yu recalled. "Then they suddenly halted screen shipments—and announced their own phone conference shortly after. It felt too coordinated. Like it was planned."
"Exactly. At the height of our success, they doused us in cold water. Now, they show up claiming it was all a misunderstanding, trying to smooth it over. But that move cost us a lot. And just because they came to explain now doesn't mean we should forgive and forget.
There's no way I'd let that slide. Now that they need us, I'm going to make sure we get back everything they made us lose—and then some."
Samsung's intent was clear: they wanted smart assistant authorization. That's why Gao Zhendong had come personally and bowed his head.
Foreign companies often had the impression that Chinese firms were easy to negotiate with—apologize, act humble, offer a little compensation, and everything would blow over.
Samsung wanted to use that playbook on her?
No chance.
"So… are we going to cooperate with them or not?" Xiao Yu asked.
"This is the era of globalization," Zhao Min replied. "They hold a lot of patents. Cooperation is inevitable. Even when relations between China, the U.S., and Japan are tense, business still goes on.
The public might let their personal feelings influence their actions—boycotts, protests. But high-level decision-makers? They have to look at the bigger picture. Sometimes, one sentence can affect a whole diplomatic relationship—even spark war. You can't let personal emotions interfere.
As they say, the ass decides the brain. The higher your seat, the more strategic your thinking needs to be."
Xiao Yu nodded. She was learning a lot today.
Over time, Zhao Min had come to see Xiao Yu as more than just a colleague—she was like a younger sister, a fellow woman by Chen Mo's side. There were things she needed to understand.
"Then… why set the licensing fee so high?" Xiao Yu asked. "Won't that just scare them away?"
"That's the difference between school and business," Zhao Min said. "One is about learning, the other is about leverage. When you want something, and someone else has it, you don't just get it—you negotiate.
So, ask yourself—what does this high price achieve?"
Xiao Yu thought for a moment. "It shows that we're not desperate. It puts pressure on them to meet our terms?"
"Exactly. We're the ones in control. If they can't accept the price, they'll either try again—or walk away. But if they leave without negotiating further, it only proves Gao Zhendong isn't qualified to hold that position.
If one rejection is all it takes to send him packing, the board will replace him. He's probably heading back now to meet with Samsung's execs and figure out their acceptable bottom line. When he knows what they're willing to offer, he'll come back to bargain. He has to."
Zhao Min paused, then looked at Xiao Yu with a teasing smile.
"You've been asking a lot of questions today. Studying hard. Is it because you're feeling pressure now that you're with him?"
Xiao Yu blinked, then laughed. "No."
"There are a lot of women trying to get close to the boss," Zhao Min said casually. "Xu Weixin, for example. She's not exactly subtle. Doesn't that make you feel uneasy?"
"Not at all." Xiao Yu shook her head again. "Why should I?"
Zhao Min raised an eyebrow. "Really? Not even a little bit?"
"I trust him," Xiao Yu said with a gentle smile. "I understand who he is. I don't need to be strong too. I'm just a simple woman who wants to do the things I enjoy."
Every time she spoke about Chen Mo, Xiao Yu's expression softened with happiness. It radiated from her in a way that couldn't be hidden.
Zhao Min watched her for a moment, feeling a twinge of envy. If I had a man like Chen Mo, she thought, maybe I'd feel that way too…