mijobooks Chapter 468 StarPhone 1 Global Launch
Chapter 468 StarPhone 1 Global Launch
Lingyun read Steve Jobs's text message twice, then turned his phone upside down and placed it face down on the podium.
He walked back to the center of the stage. The spotlight shone on him again, and the applause in the venue had slowly subsided, but some people were still standing. A few young people in the back row held up StarPhone pre-order cards above their heads, the yellow cards shimmering like small pieces under the lights.
"There's one more thing," Ling Yun said.
The large screen lit up. It displayed a series of numbers, which jumped up row by row.
In 1996, Xingkong Internet Cafe opened in Jinan with an initial investment of 270,000 yuan.
In 1997, Xinghuo Electronics Factory acquired the nearly bankrupt municipal electronics factory, and more than 500 laid-off workers were put back to work.
In 1998, the Starry Sky operating system was released in Silicon Valley, becoming the world's first open-source operating system kernel.
In 2000, Star Technology went public on NASDAQ, with its market value exceeding US$60 billion at its peak.
In 2001, the Qilu Microelectronics Center was established, and domestically produced chips started from 0.13 micrometers.
In 2003, Starfire OS was released, and StarPhone was launched.
The screen paused for a moment, then displayed the last three lines.
The company has invested over 20 billion yuan in research and development. It holds over 3,000 core patents. The total number of employees worldwide exceeds 150,000.
The entire room fell silent.
Ling Yun didn't look at the screen. He stood in the center of the stage, the spotlight enveloping him in a small halo. "Behind these numbers—" he paused, "are countless failures followed by restarts. Countless sleepless nights. A group of ordinary people who believe technology can change the world."
Someone in the back row put down their pre-sale card. The young man who had been holding the card sat back down, and his friend patted him on the shoulder.
"In 1996, I told my roommates in the dormitory at Shandong University that we should make our products a source of pride for Chinese brands." Ling Yun took a step forward, and the spotlight followed him. "Back then, we didn't even have a decent office. Li Mo was drawing keyboard diagrams on the counter at the internet cafe, Zhao Weiguo was carrying bottled water at the door, and I went to the technology market to haggle with people. I could get a computer assembled from parts down by 200 yuan."
Someone in the audience chuckled softly.
"Later, we went to the United States to develop operating systems. Bill Gates invited me to his estate and told me that in the IT industry, success isn't determined by technology; capital and connections are the most important. He offered me an acquisition agreement with very good terms. I didn't sign it." Ling Yun paused. "Not because his offer wasn't high enough, but because I knew that the lifeblood of operating systems couldn't be in someone else's hands."
Ni Guangnan, sitting in the third row, took off his reading glasses and held them in his hand. He didn't wipe them; he just held them.
A video started playing on the big screen.
The first scene: Winter 1997, at the gate of an electronics factory in Jinan, hundreds of workers lined up, clutching their resumes, their breath escaping in the cold wind. The camera pans over to show some people stamping their feet to warm themselves, others squatting by the roadside eating steamed buns.
The second scene: Spring 2000, at the StarCraft Technology office in Silicon Valley, young programmers gathered around a monitor, the code scrolling down line by line. Suddenly, someone slammed their hand on the table, and everyone cheered—StarCraft System version 3.0 had worked!
The third scene: Summer 2002, Shenzhen Xinghuo Factory, the first batch of Xingguang notebooks roll off the production line. A female worker in a blue overalls stands beside the production line, watching the notebook slowly move down the conveyor belt. She reaches out and gently touches the casing, then turns her head away to wipe her eyes.
The fourth scene: Late autumn of 2003, Beijing Spark Laboratory, 3:17 a.m., Wang Jianguo fell asleep on his workbench, next to a StarPhone engineering prototype, the screen still lit up, displaying a line and a half of code and a cup of coffee that had already formed a film.
After the video finished playing, the screen went black for about three seconds.
Then a line of text popped up: Behind these numbers are people.
The venue was quiet for a few seconds, then someone in the back row started clapping. It wasn't a loud, rapid clapping, but a slow, rhythmic applause.
Ling Yun and the others stopped applauding on their own.
"Yesterday someone asked me why Spark is open-sourcing its operating system. I said it before, it's not a charity." He placed the remote control on the podium. "It's because we don't want people to use the operating system as a weapon. I'll say it again today. The source code of Spark OS is on the open-source community; anyone can download it, anyone can use it, and anyone can modify it. We're doing this not because we don't care about intellectual property rights—we have over three thousand core patents globally. We're doing this because we believe that openness is more powerful than closedness."
He straightened up.
"From today onwards, the launch of StarPhone is not just a victory for StarPhone alone. It is a victory for everyone who believes that 'Chinese people can make their own operating systems, their own chips, and their own mobile phones'—a shared victory."
Applause rolled from the back of the venue to the front. People stood up, then others stood up, like waves surging towards the stage. Ling Yun stood directly in front of the waves, paused for two seconds, then bowed slightly.
After the press conference, the media swarmed around him. Ling Yun was surrounded at the edge of the stage, microphones were thrust at him, recorders were raised, and flashbulbs kept going off in his face.
A blonde female reporter pushed her way to the front, raised her recorder, and asked in accented English, "Mr. Ling, The Wall Street Journal—do you think StarPhone will change the phone industry the way the iPod changed the music industry?"
Ling Yun looked at her. "The iPod changed the way people listen to music. The StarPhone—" he paused, "will change people's lifestyles."
The female reporter was taking notes rapidly in her notebook. A reporter from a domestic financial media outlet next to her eagerly asked, "Mr. Ling, what were the considerations behind the pricing of 3999?"
"We've considered it for a long time," Ling Yun said. "If the price is too low, it won't be fair to all the effort we've put in. If the price is too high, it won't be fair to the users who trust us. 3999 is the price we believe is worthy of this product."
Another reporter squeezed through the crowd, "Mr. Ling, has Steve Jobs from Apple contacted you?"
"Yes." Ling Yun took out his phone from his pocket. "He sent me a text message, congratulating me and saying not to forget about my match."
The reporters were excited. "What was your response?"
"Wait for him to play his card."
Another barrage of flashes erupted. Ling Yun slightly turned his head, avoiding the direct glare of the lights.
It was already dark when they left. A long string of streetlights on Chang'an Avenue were on. The winter wind in Beijing was harsh, feeling like a dull knife against their faces. Ling Yun stood at the entrance of the conference center, turning up the collar of his coat.
Zhao Hu drove the car over, opened the door, and sat in the back seat. The moment the door closed, it shut out the noise from outside.
He leaned back in his chair and reached up to touch the platinum cufflinks on his sleeve. His phone vibrated. An Shiyu had sent a text message: "Our daughter watched the live broadcast and pointed at you on TV, calling 'Daddy,' but you wouldn't respond no matter how much she called. She got so upset she cried, and I spent ages trying to comfort her."
Ling Yun chuckled and replied, "Tell her that Dad will be home tomorrow."
He put his phone back in his pocket. The car drove onto Chang'an Avenue, the office buildings on both sides lit up, their windows stretching out in rows. He leaned against the car window, the city lights receding into the distance.