"Mr. Chen, have you ever considered expanding your company's market?" Sios finally broke the ice after the others had left.
Chen Mo smiled faintly. "Weren't we supposed to be discussing 'Artificial Intelligence+'?"
"The discussion can wait. For now, I'd like to ask—would you be open to expanding into our country's market?"
Chen Mo didn't seem surprised. With Sios's position and background, this kind of overture was expected.
"Market expansion is something we're always working on," he said evenly. "In fact, we're actively doing it right now."
"I understand," Sios nodded, then clarified, "But I'm referring specifically to entering our market—the U.S. market."
Chen Mo chuckled. "I'm a businessman. If there's money to be made, why would I refuse?"
That answer made Sios visibly relax. Surrounded by others earlier, he hadn't been able to say much. Now that it was just the two of them, he could finally get to the point.
"We have a proposition," he said. "If your company is willing to establish a production line on U.S. soil, we'll consider lifting the current restrictions and opening access to our domestic market."
Chen Mo's eyes narrowed slightly. "Just like that?"
"Yes," Sios said, leaning forward. "As long as the production is localized—hire our workers, use our facilities—we'll not only open the market, but also provide policy subsidies and tax benefits. The conditions are simple, and the incentives are real."
Chen Mo didn't respond immediately. After a moment, he gave a small smile.
"I'll think about it carefully."
Sios froze for half a second.
He had expected enthusiasm—maybe a handshake, maybe even preliminary terms. But "I'll think about it carefully" felt like a polite rejection. He quickly tried to recover.
"Mr. Chen, may I ask—do you find the terms lacking? Manufacturing domestically benefits both sides. You gain access to our market, we gain employment and tech exposure. We're even offering government subsidies—what's there to lose?"
"The terms are… acceptable," Chen Mo said coolly. "But this isn't a decision I make alone. It's a matter for the company's executive team. Naturally, we'll have to deliberate thoroughly."
Sios stared at him for a long second. He knew—everyone knew—that Chen Mo had absolute authority within Marching Ant. If he wanted it, it would happen. If not, no one else would push it. But Chen Mo's vague response gave him no foothold to press further.
In business diplomacy, such phrasing usually meant one thing: no. It was just a softer way to say it, leaving room for both sides to save face.
Knowing that line of conversation was going nowhere, Sios moved to his next agenda.
"Mr. Chen, your company's technologies are impressive. Would you be open to discussing licensing or technology transfer?"
"We don't have any such plans at the moment," Chen Mo replied calmly, without hesitation.
Sios acted as if he didn't hear the rejection.
"We're prepared to offer a substantial deal. We'd like to purchase the full production technology for your holographic projectors, along with the source code for your artificial intelligence systems. You name your price."
Chen Mo tilted his head, still smiling. "Is that so? Then I'll… think about it carefully."
That phrase again.
To Sios, it felt like swallowing glass.
Still, he pressed on. "Mr. Chen, have you ever thought about visiting our country? Maybe even staying for a while?"
Chen Mo raised an eyebrow. "What's there to see?"
"Well," Sios chuckled, as if the answer were obvious. "Romantic Hawaiian beaches, the bright lights of Las Vegas, the innovation hubs of Silicon Valley. In the U.S., you'd have total freedom—no restrictions. Great climate, excellent healthcare, low taxes, and plenty of beautiful women. It's a paradise for successful people."
"With your talents, Mr. Chen, you'd live like a king. Many wealthy individuals around the world dream of immigrating to the U.S. for these very reasons. If you ever consider it, we'd be happy to assist with the process."
Sios watched Chen Mo's expression closely, looking for any sign of interest. This—this—was his true goal.
Getting Marching Ant's technology was one thing. But if he could persuade Chen Mo himself to immigrate, that would be the real jackpot. With Chen Mo came his genius, his vision—and his company.
Of course, such things couldn't be asked directly. But the message was clear.
Chen Mo smiled faintly. "No wonder they say the air in the U.S. is sweet."
The robot translator conveyed the words without their hidden sarcasm. Sios, misunderstanding the tone, thought Chen Mo was impressed and nodded eagerly.
"Absolutely! I just came from your capital—smog everywhere, hard to breathe. In our country, the skies are clear, the environment is clean. It's a wonderful place to live. If you'd like to bring your family too, we can arrange visas easily."
"Oh, I don't have any travel plans right now," Chen Mo said lightly. "But I'll consider it carefully."
Inside, he was cold.
Ever since the mercenary attack, he knew there were some places he absolutely couldn't go. The U.S. was one of them. The people behind the attack had ties to Apple—one of their board members, no less.
If someone dared to send armed mercenaries after him inside China, what would they do in a country where their power was unchecked?
He'd be walking straight into a trap. No matter how sweet the promises, he'd be a foreigner on their turf. In the end, even with supernatural power, he'd be nothing more than a lamb to slaughter.
This wasn't just about strategy—it was about survival.
Whether it was building a factory, transferring tech, or moving to the U.S., Chen Mo gave the same response:
"I'll think about it carefully."
Sios could barely hide his frustration.
He felt like he'd been talking to a brick wall—three major topics, three polite brush-offs. It was maddening.
He had dealt with many scientists before—often brilliant but awkward, high in IQ and low in EQ. But Chen Mo wasn't socially awkward. He was simply too clever—too composed.
It was like playing chess against someone who had already decided to stall every move until the clock ran out.
Still, he kept up the smile.
"Very well, Mr. Chen. Please do give it careful thought. Whatever price you name, I'm sure we can make it worth your while."
Chen Mo simply nodded. "Of course."
He never intended to sell out his tech. These technologies were the lifeblood of his company—its core competitive edge. To sell them would be to rip the foundation out from under his feet.
Especially not to a government like the United States.
"Mr. Sios," Chen Mo said as he stood up, "I heard you came to our company to observe and learn. How about I give you a proper tour?"
The message was clear: this meeting is over.
Sios forced a smile, adjusted his tie, and stood as well. "That would be an honor."
He'd said everything he could. Pushed as much as he dared. But Chen Mo had given him nothing—not a single commitment, not even a crack in the armor.
Still, he followed, putting on the face of diplomacy.