Zeng Jin finished a bottle of beer, and once he made his stance clear, he visibly relaxed. After all, he had admitted he was willing to become a human trafficker—no wait, he meant her lackey—and with Liu Yutong’s personal guarantee, his initial fear naturally subsided.
As for Liang Gong, under Zhang Dalong’s enthusiastic hospitality, he had already drunk quite a bit with this younger brother, who was the closest to him in age at the gathering.
Sometimes, you have to admit that circumstances can truly change a person. Compared to his days before joining the Wanlong Society, Zhang Dalong had become noticeably more bold and generous.
If this were his past life, he would never have been this unrestrained or this capable of holding his liquor.
After a few rounds of drinks, Liang Mengsong finally started talking more.
“Chairman Liu.”
“Please go ahead, Liang Gong.”
“Why did you choose to go into the chip industry?”
“The chip industry requires massive investment, yields slow returns, has high technical barriers, and is dominated by international giants. Patent walls are insurmountable, and equipment is strangled by restrictions. The whole world knows chips are the future, but the only ones daring to invest heavily are either national teams or people who are crazy.”
Liang Mengsong put down his glass and looked seriously at Liu Yutong.
“You’re not a national team, and you don’t seem crazy either.”
He asked this question because it felt too contradictory. A person so involved in the underworld, with so many lucrative industries to choose from, had picked one of the hardest to crack. It was truly baffling.
Liu Yutong’s expression turned serious, and she asked him a question in return.
“Liang Gong, do you know how much Dragon Country spends on importing chips every year?”
Liang Mengsong paused, then nodded. “Over a hundred billion US dollars. That’s already surpassed oil, making it the largest import.”
Liu Yutong continued, “And do you know how much of that profit ends up in the hands of Dragon Country’s companies?”
Liang Mengsong fell silent. He knew the answer: a painful number—zero.
No, it wasn’t even zero; it was negative. Because the chips sold to you not only take your money but also use technical barriers, patent licensing, and supply chain control to firmly grip you by the throat, making you suffer with no way out.
Liu Yutong’s gaze shifted to the serpentine black river stretching in the distance.
“When I first started in the chip business, someone asked me the same question: why choose such a difficult path.”
“Some said, you’re just handing money to the US, buying equipment and patents, and when they impose an embargo, you’ll be finished.”
“Some said, a twenty-year-old girl like you could do anything else, why take on an industry that even the country spent tens of billions on and still failed at? It’s a waste of money.”
“And some said, chips are the crown jewel of industry. Even if you manage 90 nanometers, others are already working on 45 and 32 nanometers. You’ll never catch up—why bother?”
“I heard all of that early on, and plenty of it.”
Liang Mengsong listened quietly, waiting to hear how she would answer.
Liu Yutong suddenly gave a slight smile and finally spoke seven words.
“But I just wanted to try.”
When these words came out, Liang Mengsong felt a jolt in his heart, as if something had stirred him.
“Liang Gong, you spent many years at TSMC, didn’t you?”
“Back in the earliest days, what was TSMC’s scale? And what were Intel, Samsung, and Toshiba like?”
Liang Mengsong opened his mouth but didn’t answer. He knew it all, inside and out.
Twenty years ago, TSMC was just one obscure foundry among many, while Intel was an unshakable titan, lofty and looking down on everyone.
Yet twenty years later, Intel was still stuck in one place, while TSMC had risen to become the global king of wafer foundry.
“So, no one is born a king,” she said.
“They’re all chased down step by step, then trampled underfoot.”
In the middle of her speech, Liu Yutong had someone pour a beer, then raised her glass again and downed it in one gulp. With a sharp thud, she slammed the glass onto the table.
“So we can do it too!”
Liang Mengsong stared at her, silent for a long, long time.
So long that Zeng Jin thought he might never speak again.
Then, suddenly, he raised the glass in front of him, tilted his head back, and drained it dry.
When he set the glass down, his eyes were slightly red.
“Chairman Liu, I haven’t heard words like that in so many years.”
This time, he didn’t say he would stay, nor did he say he would leave.
But Zeng Jin knew—Liang Mengsong wasn’t going anywhere anymore.
Not because of the street teeming with those terrifying men in black.
But because of Liu Yutong’s words just now.
Zeng Jin looked at Liang Mengsong, then at Liu Yutong.
The night wind gently stirred the loose strands of hair by her ears, and the streetlamp cast faint shadows across her face, adding an air of mystery and depth.
She was just a twenty-year-old girl, yet at this moment, she gave off an intangible, indescribable… weightiness.
Zeng Jin suddenly understood something.
All his previous perceptions of Liu Yutong were built on the foundation that she was ruthless, cold-blooded, and cunning.
In America, she had crippled Rossi with a single kick.
In San Francisco, she had wiped out the Snakehead Gang overnight.
Here, she had her thousands of men in black.
He had thought that was the sum of Liu Yutong—a female overlord with limitless means.
But now, he realized he had missed one crucial thing.
Why did those men in black willingly follow her? Was it really just for money? Or because she was ruthless?
If it were only money and ruthlessness, you could at most raise a bunch of hired thugs, not so many loyal subordinates.
How do you measure loyalty? It’s simple—look in their eyes.
Those men in black had light in their eyes.
That same light, he had only ever seen in the eyes of the old-timers in the Taiwan underworld who lived by brotherhood.
That was true loyalty.
The kind of loyalty that made a man willing to take a blade for you.
But those old-timers had taken decades to forge that bond.
And Liu Yutong?
Twenty years old.
How did she earn it?
What did she have, to command such dedicated loyalty?
Now, he had his answer.
This woman was a born leader, and she carried that irresistible charm that made people willing to follow her and go through fire and water for her.
