Dai Damai pushed the laptop toward Chen Zhi.
“Chen, stop messing with the controller and check this out.”
Dai Damai turned the screen around.
“YouTube, four hours, twenty million views.”
Chen Zhi glanced at it.
The video title was blunt.
“China’s AI Phone Is Crushing It—Apple and Samsung Should Be Losing Sleep.”
Beneath it, the comments section was full of machine-translated Chinese.
“Dear Chinese godfather, please send me the purchase link. My wallet is ready.”
“I’ll offer my credit card for this magical phone—don’t discriminate against European users.”
“Why do you Chinese get it first? This is tech racism!”
“Shut up and take my money!”
Chen Zhi scrolled down a few pages and laughed.
“These foreigners are picking up Chinese pretty fast.”
Dai Damai switched to Twitter.
Trending number one: #MossPhone#
Number two: #ChineseAIMagic#
Number three: #TakeMyMoneyChen#
Dai Damai pointed at the screen, his voice a little shaky.
“The overseas IP traffic to the official site exploded. The servers almost couldn’t handle it. A bunch of foreign tech bloggers are asking for review units. People on eBay in Europe are already listing pre-order links—prices driven up to fifteen hundred bucks.”
Chen Zhi stroked his chin.
“Domestically, it’s 3999 yuan, and a bunch of rivals are ganging up to bottleneck the screen.”
He glanced at the comments again.
“Overseas, people are waving money and calling us ‘daddy.’”
Dai Damai threw up his hands.
“The contrast is so insane I feel like calling the cops.”
Chen Zhi set the game console down on the table.
“Don’t call the cops. Open the doors and take the money.”
Dai Damai froze.
“You’re going global?”
“They wanted to suffocate us domestically, didn’t they?”
Chen Zhi turned the laptop back toward him and tapped the table twice.
“So we jump out.”
Dai Damai frowned immediately.
“Going global isn’t just posting a link and selling. The European and American markets are full of pitfalls— certifications, carrier channels, after-sales service, taxes, patent risks, you name it.”
Chen Zhi picked up his phone.
“So first, we dig the pitfalls and see who jumps in voluntarily.”
He dialed J. Wong on video.
The call connected fast.
J. Wong’s hair was a mess, like he’d just crawled out of a production line.
“Chen, what now? Please don’t tell me there’s another project.”
Chen Zhi cut straight to the point.
“J. Wong, get ready to go global.”
J. Wong went silent for three seconds.
“What did you say?”
“Sell the Moss phone overseas.”
J. Wong sat up straight immediately.
“Are you kidding? Meizu’s domestic channels haven’t even fully recovered, and our overseas channels are long dead. We don’t have FCC or CE certifications, no carrier network access—any shipments will get seized by customs.”
Dai Damai added fuel from the side.
“And there’s GDPR. The EU privacy clauses are a nightmare. The U.S. has a bunch of weird compliance rules too.”
J. Wong nodded quickly.
“Exactly. It’s not a place where just having a killer product lets you run wild. The foreigners aren’t stupid—before they buy something, they want to know it’s compliant.”
Chen Zhi leaned back in his chair.
“Who said I’m going to build my own channels?”
J. Wong was taken aback.
“Then how are you going to sell?”
Chen Zhi opened the Twitter backend and logged into Deep Space Tech’s official account.
“Make them come to us.”
Dai Damai leaned in.
“What are you posting?”
Chen Zhi thought for a moment.
“Keep it simple. Foreigners like directness.”
He typed out a line in English:
—MossPhone, coming soon.
Beneath it, he attached an all-black teaser image with only a silver-gray Moss logo in the center.
Dai Damai stared at those few words.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
Chen Zhi hit send.
Ten seconds later, comments started rolling in.
Thirty seconds later, retweets hit ten thousand.
Five minutes later, a new hashtag appeared on Twitter’s trending list: #MossPhoneComingSoon#
Dai Damai watched the numbers climb and swallowed hard.
“The fish are biting way too fast.”
J. Wong was silent on the video call for a while, then suddenly cursed.
“Damn, your move is really dirty.”
Chen Zhi looked up.
“What do you mean? This is called international strategy.”
J. Wong: “You’re just too lazy to find channels.”
“Why should I knock on every door when I can get people to line up at mine?”
Dai Damai gave a thumbs up.
“Boss Chen, you’re starting to look like those ruthless capitalists.”
“Don’t slander me—I haven’t even started quoting prices yet.”
…
Shenzhen.
Wang Dong stared at a Twitter screenshot, his face grim.
Several executives sat around the table, none daring to speak first.
The PR director slid a tablet over.
“Wang, Deep Space Tech just posted an overseas teaser. The hype abroad is heating up again.”
Wang Dong slammed the tablet on the table.
“How?”
No one answered.
Wang Dong paced back and forth twice, fuming with frustration.
They had teamed up with four manufacturers to pressure Samsung into bottling up the screen, hoping to cut off the supply to Deep Space and Meizu.
No supply would lead to customer backlash.
Backlash would lead to cancellations.
Cancellations would tighten the cash flow, and no matter how good Deep Space Tech was, they’d have to cave.
But instead of playing along, Chen Zhi exposed them.
Now it was even worse.
With his domestic supply chain choked, he turned around and sold overseas at a premium.
“What does Baidu say?”
The PR director quickly checked his messages.
“Baidu’s PR team says they can launch an overseas smear campaign.”
Wang Dong stopped.
“What’s the angle?”
“Privacy and security.”
The PR director lowered his voice.
“Overseas users have always been sensitive about Chinese tech products. We can plant articles on Twitter, Facebook, and Reddit—claim that the Moss phone steals user data, uploads contacts and location info, then hint at spyware.”
Wang Dong didn’t reply right away.
After a few seconds, he tapped the table.
“Do it.”
The legal director hesitated.
“Wang, what if we get caught…”
Wang Dong turned to stare at him.
“Caught? We’ll use a shell company overseas. How would it trace back to us?”
No one in the meeting room argued further.
Wang Dong picked up his phone and called Baidu directly.
“Don’t let Chen Zhi get his global launch off the ground.”
He paused, his voice dropping low.
“If we can’t pin him down at home, let the foreigners fear him first.”
…
That evening, at the Wanshu Academy residence.
When Li Zhiyi came out of the kitchen carrying a bowl of bone broth, Chen Zhi was on the sofa reviewing the EU privacy regulations.
The computer screen was covered in English clauses.
His left leg was still in a cast, a crutch nearby, and on his right side sat a half-empty cup of water that had gone cold.
Li Zhiyi set the soup on the coffee table.
“Drink this first.”
Chen Zhi didn’t look away from the screen.
“Let me finish this section.”
Li Zhiyi sat down beside him and glanced at the computer.
“GDPR?”
Chen Zhi looked up.
“You’ve already studied this?”
Li Zhiyi nodded.
“Our professor covered it a bit—the EU has strict rules on personal data processing, especially user consent, data minimization, and cross-border transfers.”
Chen Zhi pushed the computer toward her.
“Lawyer Li, the organization needs you.”
Li Zhiyi was caught off guard.
“I haven’t even graduated yet.”
“No worries, neither have I.”
Chen Zhi picked up the soup bowl and took a sip.
"Starting now, you’re in charge of sorting through the EU privacy clauses. Focus on which features of Moss’s overseas version need to be turned off by default, which ones require pop-up authorization, and which data can’t be sent back to domestic servers."
Li Zhiyi looked down at her computer, sliding her finger across the trackpad.
"You really want me to help with this?"
"No kidding."
Chen Zhi leaned back into the sofa.
"You’re a top law graduate from Renmin University, can’t have you just supervising me taking meds every day."
Li Zhiyi corrected him quietly.
"You’re supposed to be taking meds anyway."
Chen Zhi: "..."
He pointed at the computer.
"Fine, the boss is giving you your first task now—have a compliance checklist ready by tomorrow morning."
Li Zhiyi looked up.
"Tomorrow morning?"
Chen Zhi cleared his throat.
"Sure, or the day after. The boss is pretty flexible."
Li Zhiyi pushed the bowl of soup closer to him.
"Finish this first, then I’ll work."
"Lawyer Li, this is workplace bullying."
"Yeah."
She brought the computer down onto the carpet and sat cross-legged.
"You can file a labor arbitration complaint."
This girl was getting better and better at handling him.
It was past eleven at night.
The living room was quiet except for the soft clatter of a keyboard.
Chen Zhi half-reclined on the sofa, holding a list of overseas patents, but he closed his eyes after reading just a few lines.
Li Zhiyi sat on the carpet, a thick English-Chinese legal dictionary beside her.
She was reading slowly.
Every time she spotted a clause that might affect Moss’s functionality, she’d copy it into a document and write notes in Chinese.
When Chen Zhi woke up, it was almost one in the morning.
He reached over and closed her laptop.
Li Zhiyi looked up.
"I’m not done yet."
"Finish it tomorrow."
"Didn’t you say you needed it in the morning?"
"The boss is changing the requirements now."
Chen Zhi put the laptop on the other end of the coffee table.
"Go to sleep."
Li Zhiyi was a bit stubborn.
"I want to help too."
Chen Zhi looked at her for a moment, then tossed her a nearby blanket.
"The prerequisite for helping is not running yourself into the ground. If you show up tomorrow with dark circles, my mom will call to chew me out again."
Li Zhiyi held the blanket, and after a moment, she got up.
"Then you sleep too."
"I’ll read for a bit more."
Li Zhiyi stopped.
Chen Zhi immediately changed his tune.
"Alright, I’m sleeping."
Only then did she head toward the guest room.
At the door, she turned back.
"Chen Zhi."
"Yeah?"
"In the future... don’t carry everything alone."
Chen Zhi picked up his water glass, pretending not to catch her meaning.
"Can’t do that. I’m a tyrannical CEO."
Li Zhiyi looked at him.
"Even tyrannical CEOs have to take their meds."
Before entering the room, Li Zhiyi gently closed the door.
The living room fell silent.
Chen Zhi picked up his phone and called Lao Zhao.
Lao Zhao answered quickly.
"Mr. Chen."
Chen Zhi spoke lazily.
"Uncle Zhao, is President Pei busy lately?"
Lao Zhao paused on the other end.
"Miss is at school, attending class."
"Perfect timing."
Chen Zhi raised his voice slightly.
"Tell her this for me: Deep Space Technology is about to negotiate with the Europeans. I’m planning to sign the contract directly under the domestic company, won’t bother with a tax structure for profits—foreigners pay up, that’s fine."
Lao Zhao was silent.
Chen Zhi continued.
"And if they ask for an exclusive agency, I’ll just sign it casually. Stuff like performance clauses, guarantees, breach penalties—good enough. I hate dealing with contracts."
Lao Zhao finally couldn’t hold back.
"Mr. Chen, these matters... it’s best to be cautious."
"It’s fine, I’m tough to kill."
Chen Zhi yawned.
"Don’t tell her, though. She’s blocked me now, and I don’t want to bother her."
Lao Zhao: "..."
The call ended.
Chen Zhi tossed his phone aside.
Three minutes later.
At a study room in Peking University’s Guanghua School of Management.
Pei Ningxue stared at the text from Lao Zhao, and the pen in her hand snapped with a crack.
Two classmates nearby jumped in surprise.
Pei Ningxue looked down at those few lines, her chest heaving twice.
"Idiot."
...
The next morning.
Dai Damai burst into the office.
"Boss Chen, we’ve got Best Buy in the US, MediaMarkt in Europe, Carphone Warehouse in the UK, plus a bunch of carriers."
He opened the top email.
"And the biggest one is this."
Chen Zhi glanced at the sender.
Vodafone Europe.
"Vodafone?"
"Yeah, one of Europe’s largest telecom operators. Their European president, Richard, has proposed a video conference this afternoon to discuss European distribution."
Dai Damai added another point right after.
"But there’s a problem."
"Spit it out."
"International negotiations involve overseas tax, channel splits, certification costs, after-sales responsibility, and exclusive agency restrictions. We don’t have a financial lead with that kind of experience."
He lowered his voice.
"This used to be President Pei’s job."
Chen Zhi picked up his cup and took a sip.
"Who says we don’t have one?"
Dai Damai froze.
"Didn’t President Pei cash out and bail?"
Chen Zhi flipped his phone over.
On the screen was a text message with no contact name.
[European business: no exclusive deals. Channel fee cap at 10%. Certification and customs clearance must be their responsibility. Use a Singapore SPV for the contract entity, profit repatriation through Hong Kong. Specific files are on the internal network.]
After reading it, Dai Damai’s brain stalled for two seconds.
"Who’s this?"
Chen Zhi put his phone away.
"A helpful netizen."
Dai Damai: "..."
That afternoon at three.
Deep Space Technology meeting room.
Chen Zhi sat at the head of the table with his cane, Dai Damai beside him, with legal, PR, and hardware teams all online.
The video connected.
A blond man appeared on screen, dressed in a sharp suit.
Richard started with some small talk, and the translator had barely gotten halfway through when the advisor behind him handed over a document.
Richard cut straight to the point.
"Vodafone can help the Moss Phone enter the European market, but we need exclusive distribution rights for Europe."
No sooner had the translator finished than an even harsher follow-up came.
"Channel split: 40%."
Several people in the meeting room stiffened.
Dai Damai muttered under his breath.
"That’s robbery."
Richard, apparently not understanding Chinese, kept his business smile.
"The European market is very complex. Without our channels, you’ll hit a wall."
Chen Zhi raised a hand, cutting off the translator.
"No need to translate."
He picked up the Moss phone on the table.
"Moss, activate real-time simultaneous interpretation mode for meetings."
The phone screen lit up.
The next second, Chen Zhi’s Chinese was converted into fluent English, broadcasting directly through the meeting room speakers.
"Richard, your proposal is interesting, but too expensive."
Richard froze for a moment.
The French advisor behind him muttered something in French.
Moss translated almost simultaneously.
"He says the system’s spoken response speed is abnormal, like a live human interpreter."
The German advisor frowned and added a line in German.
Moss continued translating.
"He says if this is all running locally, the cost of European localization would be terrifyingly low."
Richard’s polished business expression finally cracked.
Chen Zhi didn’t stop.
“Moss, introduce the European privacy localization plan in German, French, and Italian respectively for the three advisors. It must comply with local legal requirements.”
The phone paused for less than a second.
Then the three languages sounded in succession.
In the conference room, the team from Deep Space Tech remained relatively calm.
After all, they had been stunned into numbness many times before.
On the other side of the screen, the people behind Richard could no longer sit still.
Richard was silent for a long time, finally absorbing the impact of AI.
When he spoke again, his tone had changed.
“Chen, Vodafone takes this partnership very seriously. We can renegotiate the revenue share ratio.”
Chen Zhi opened the file Pei Ningxue had sent him.
“No negotiation.”
He looked up.
“The European version is uniformly priced at $999.”
Richard frowned.
“This price...”
Chen Zhi cut him off.
“Vodafone takes a 10% distribution fee and is responsible for all European certifications, customs clearance, carrier approvals, and after-sales service network access.”
Richard’s face darkened.
“10% is too low.”
“Then 8%.”
Richard: “...”
Chen Zhi put the prototype back on the table.
“Mr. Richard, I’m not here to beg you to help sell phones.”
“I’m offering you 10% today because your email arrived earliest.”
“If a U.S. distributor comes in tomorrow, it might drop to 7%.”
The video call fell silent.
Half a minute later, Richard’s advisors exchanged whispers in low voices.
Moss helpfully translated their conversation for Chen Zhi.
“They recommend accepting. The reason is that the Moss Phone has an exclusive window of opportunity. Once it passes, European carriers will be bypassed by other distribution channels.”
Richard’s face turned green.
Chen Zhi waved his hand.
“Moss, meeting mode. No need to translate internal discussions.”
Moss: “Closed.”
Dai Damai bent his head to stifle a laugh, shoulders shaking.
Richard adjusted his seating position.
“Chen, Vodafone can accept a 10% distribution fee, but the initial shipment volume must be guaranteed.”
“One hundred thousand units.”
“Too few.”
“Initial shipment: one hundred thousand units.”
Chen Zhi corrected him.
“We’ll discuss the second batch after selling out.”
Richard stared at the camera.
“We need European launch exclusivity.”
Chen Zhi flipped a page of the contract.
“One month.”
“Three months.”
“Fifteen days.”
Richard took a deep breath.
“One month.”
Chen Zhi nodded.
“Deal.”
Dai Damai immediately sent the electronic contract.
Minutes later, confirmation came from Vodafone.
Richard signed the framework agreement.
Before the meeting ended, he looked at Chen Zhi and couldn’t hold back.
“Chen, how much do you sell it for in China?”
Chen Zhi smiled.
“3,999 RMB.”
Richard: “...”
His interpreter instinctively added,
“That’s about $550.”
Silence on the video call.
After holding it in for a long time, Richard asked,
“Why is it so expensive in Europe?”
Chen Zhi replied with a straight face.
“Because European users respect intellectual property more.”
Dai Damai lowered his head, struggling not to laugh.
The video ended.
The conference room was quiet for two seconds, then Dai Damai slapped the table.
“$999! One hundred thousand units! That’s $100 million in revenue!”
The legal advisor was also stunned.
“And all certifications and customs clearance are handled by Vodafone.”
The PR lead murmured,
“Losing money to make friends at home, crying all the way to the bank overseas?”
Chen Zhi leaned back.
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
Everyone looked at him.
Chen Zhi added slowly,
“The extra cost covers tariffs. The EU won’t let us sell it too cheap.”
Dai Damai gave a thumbs-up.
“Boss Chen, you’re shameless.”
“Old Dai, make the announcement.”
Dai Damai immediately started typing.
Ten minutes later, Deep Space Tech’s Twitter account updated:
【Moss AI Phone European launch. $999. First batch: 100,000 units. Pre-order now.】
The image showed a black-background Moss phone.
The comments section exploded instantly.
“$999? Fair! I’ll take two!”
“Cheaper than iPhone, more real than magic.”
“The Chinese godfather has finally opened the gate!”
“Shut up and take my money!”
The news quickly spread back to China.
In a Shenzhen tech giant’s conference room, Wang Dong stared at the screenshot, frozen.
The PR director’s voice wavered.
“Mr. Wang... the European pre-order page is live.”
“What are the numbers?”
“10 minutes, 37,000 units.”
Wang Dong whipped his head around.
“What?”
At the 18-minute mark of pre-orders, 100,000 units sold out.
Then, the secretary pushed open the door, face paler than his.
“Mr. Wang, Baidu’s overseas smear campaign just went out, and Moss’s official account has already shared it.”
Wang Dong’s heart sank.
“What did they share?”
The secretary handed him a tablet.
Deep Space Tech’s official Twitter had just posted a new update:
【Some people say Moss steals privacy. Tomorrow, we open-source our privacy audit interface and invite European regulators to test it live.】
Wang Dong stared at the text, about to curse, when his phone suddenly rang.
The caller ID: Li Mingyuan from Baidu.
He answered.
The voice on the other end said only one sentence.
“Mr. Wang, Chen Zhi just submitted documents to the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology, alleging that the Big Four domestic companies and Baidu have been involved in orchestrating overseas false public opinion to attack Chinese tech companies’ international expansion.”
Wang Dong gripped the phone, silent for a long time.
Li Mingyuan’s voice grew even lower.
“The higher-ups want us to be in Beijing by 9 a.m. tomorrow to explain ourselves.”

lanned to earn money steadily and take life at a slower pace. But he never expected... his father's remarriage, and the stepmother bringing along a dependent, would completely disrupt his life's plans...

he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...

ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"

] [Lone Wolf, No Male Gaze] [Protagonist is pursued early on; extreme protagonist-stans, stay away!] The "Carnival Paradise" descends and slowly devours the real world in the form of a game. By chance, Zhu Yan awakens the talent [Roleplay], becoming one of the first beta players. He thought he could develop safely, but after clearing the first instance, he is branded by humanity as the chief culprit behind the game's spread—a traitorous villain. A villain? Who would ever... become one! He'll be the villain! From then on, Zhu Yan is not only a player but also a lackey for the Carnival Paradise. Between the straight path and the crooked path, he chooses the con. With his left hand, he dons the villain's mantle, staging scenes within instances, infuriating players who decry him as a despicable traitor, all while the game happily promotes him. With his right hand, he joins the non-human organization "Fangcun Mountain," which opposes the Carnival Paradise, transforming into a mysterious player who slaughters game bosses, earning cheers of "Long live the expert!" from fellow players. Gradually, Zhu Yan rises to become an S-rank human player in Fangcun Mountain's archives, while also being the Carnival Paradise's certified top game Boss. But when the final war erupts and both major factions place their hopes in him— Players tag his various aliases: "Experts, this offensive depends on you." The Carnival Paradise's supreme Boss throws an arm around his neck: "Bro, you're the iron, I'm the steel; you can't let me down again!"