Reborn in 2005, starting with repairing mobile phones

"Everyone here is a smart person, someone who excels in technology."

"Then I'll ask you a question."

"Who designed the best chips we use?"

silence.

Who wrote the core operating system for our phones?

The silence deepened.

"Where does the software we use for drawing, the tools we use for simulation, and even the standards we use to judge whether our designs are 'beautiful' originate?"

He asked himself the question and answered it, each word like a stone pulled from frozen soil:

"In the West."

"It was true for the past twenty years, and it is true now in 2005." He paused, and that pause carried an unspeakable weight. "In the 'future' I see, it will remain true for a very, very long time."

These words made Su Xiaowen frown, and Zhou Chengyu raised his head. They sensed a certainty that transcended common sense.

"They told us that this is 'globalization' and 'the division of labor'."

Lin Dong laughed, a laugh devoid of warmth, filled only with cold sarcasm. "We're responsible for sweating, they're responsible for smiling. We're responsible for assembling, they're responsible for defining. We're responsible for chasing, they're responsible for setting the rules of the track."

"Then one day, they will use the sweat we shed while assembling the ships, the cannons we fired, pressed against our foreheads, and tell us..."

"Look, these are the rules."

The air in the meeting room froze.

"I've seen that future."

Lin Dong's voice softened, but it was even more heartbreaking: "I've seen the smartest minds in our world, and we'd fight tooth and nail to optimize algorithms for them."

I have seen our most skillful hands, working tirelessly day and night to bring their creations to life; I have seen our most tasteful designers, whose greatest honor is having their work collected by their museums.

Then they patted us on the shoulder and said, "Good job, buddy. Keep it up."

"But what about our own names?"

He asked, asking those present, and also asking about the unseen history on the wall.

"What about our own standards? What about our own 'beauty'? Our own children... when will they stop learning to walk by copying other people's photos?"

Zhang Mingyuan's face turned bright red as he thought of the generic circuits that the factory was always imitating.

Zhou Chengyu's fingers clenched tightly as he recalled the glaring name of the outsider on the thesis.

Su Xiaowen's nails dug into her palm.

"We're not here to help Nokia sell more phones, not here to help Microsoft write more compatible drivers, and certainly not here to give Apple's supply chain another cheap option."

His gaze was sharp and penetrating, sweeping over everyone:

"We're aiming for 2005, before this story is completely written out."

"Tear it up yourself."

"Hardware, software, design... these are not the key factors."

Lin Dong pointed out the window, towards the Pacific Ocean, "The key is whether we can answer one question right here in this room."

"When the next generation picks up a tool that changes their lives, will they first marvel at whether it came from the 'East' or the 'West'?"

He no longer needed answers, because the answers were already written on everyone's faces.

"From this day forward, we have no way out but each other."

"Ahead lies the encirclement of all the giants and ten thousand 'impossibilities'."

"But what we need to do must begin today."

He walked back to the table, picked up the documents prepared by Uncle Cai, and turned the page with his name printed on it to everyone.

Then he wrote "Eastern Technology" on the whiteboard.

"What we want to do is not to become the Apple, Nokia, or Motorola of the East."

His voice calmed down, a calm that came from the eye of the storm.

"We want future generations to unconsciously add a comment when they mention these mobile phone brands."

"Oh, that was the best option before Eastern technology appeared."

The words fell.

The conference room fell into absolute silence for several seconds.

This statement is too arrogant, so arrogant that it transcends a business declaration. Like a bomb dropped into deep water, it explodes in different shapes of waves in everyone's heart.

Zhang Mingyuan stopped breathing completely.

His mind was buzzing, the words "before the emergence of Eastern technology" echoing repeatedly.

This is not just about surpassing existing mobile phone giants; it's about redefining the timeline.

A shiver, a mixture of fear and immense excitement, shot from my tailbone straight to the top of my head.

He seemed to see every circuit board he had soldered becoming a cornerstone on this new timeline.

His palms were instantly soaked with sweat, but his eyes shone with an almost devout light.

Zhou Chengyu's pupils behind his glasses contracted slightly.

As someone who graduated from a top university, he was all too aware of the weight of this statement in the history of technology.

This is not just a business objective; it's a declaration of war for the throne of technology.

The part of him that believed in logic and reason was sharply warning: This is impossible.

But another part, long suppressed and yearning to participate in defining the times rather than following them, was precisely and brutally ignited by this statement.

His hands, which were no longer cold, were now slightly warm on his knees.

It turns out that the ultimate form of the "pure research" he yearned for might be participating in the creation of such historical moments.

Su Xiaowen felt her heart being gently squeezed, then suddenly released.

She looked at Lin Dong's calm profile. This man, who had conquered her with his blueprints yesterday and touched her with his past just now, was now casually throwing out an ambition that was enough to shake the entire industry.

She felt a slight dizziness, a feeling of weightlessness as if she were being propelled onto a high-speed track.

The lingering sting on her fingertips disappeared, replaced by a burning desire—if "Eastern technology" would become the new coordinate, then the lines she was drawing would become the aesthetic origin defining that coordinate.

A sense of mission for "co-creation," which is deeper and more appealing than "being conquered," is quietly emerging.

Even Uncle Cai, who was standing in the corner, gasped and almost dropped his thermos.

Having spent many years in the business world and heard countless bosses boast, he had never heard of anyone setting their sights directly on giants like Nokia and Motorola and asserting that they would become "the past."

For the first time, he realized with absolute clarity that the young boss he was working with wasn't just running a business, but a war that would change the dynasty.

Only Ah Hao remained standing like a statue, but in his gaze as he stared at Lin Dong's back, beneath the surface of absolute loyalty, a rare glint seemed to flash across his eyes.

Lin Dong took in everyone's reactions.

He knew that the seeds had been planted and were taking root wildly in their respective soils.

The meeting room fell into a vacuum of silence.

Lin Dong's words were like a heavy hammer, shattering everyone's habitual cognitive framework.

"apple?"