Chapter Eighty-Eight: Two People Who Cannot Negotiate Attempt to Negotiate

Once again, it was early morning, and the group split up to handle their tasks: the director went to book the plane tickets, while the remaining five set off together for the manor in the outskirts where model aircraft enthusiasts gathered.

Xie Lianfa rose at dawn, meticulously grooming himself. Yang Hui and Yang Yue, upon seeing this, could hardly believe their eyes—what on earth was Xie Lianfa up to?

“Lianfa, what are you doing? We’re heading to the outskirts of Paris, not the city center. Why are you dressed up like this?” Yang Hui asked, his tone tinged with disbelief.

Xie Lianfa turned to see the pair who had just returned from outside. Their sweetness made him envious. “Of course, I’m meeting our partners today. It needs to be formal. We can’t lose face—this is for the greater good.”

Yang Hui suddenly guessed what was happening. Tilting his head suspiciously, he circled Xie Lianfa, scrutinizing him so closely that Lianfa felt uncomfortable.

“Hey, Leader Yang, what’s your problem? You’re making me uneasy. I really don’t like what you’re doing,” Xie Lianfa stammered, even blushing a bit.

Yang Hui, hearing this faltering reply, felt his suspicions confirmed. With a look of knowing, he nodded. “I know you, kid. Something’s up. Tell me, is the Italian negotiator today a young woman?”

Xie Lianfa’s eyes widened in disbelief—he hadn’t mentioned any specifics about the Italian partner, had he? But after a moment, he composed himself with righteous dignity.

“Ahem... So what if she is? Men and women are equal, women can be our partners too. It’s perfectly normal. Don’t overthink it—there’s nothing to it.”

But with Lianfa’s increasingly odd behavior, Yang Hui couldn’t help but overthink. He addressed him solemnly, “Lianfa, let me be clear. We work in a unit with a certain level of confidentiality. You need to think carefully—don’t let your head get hot and make a mistake.”

Sensing trouble, Yang Hui quickly transformed into the stubborn old guard, launching into a thorough lecture.

But Xie Lianfa had his own ideas. After all, it was his first time in Europe; he couldn’t miss the chance to meet foreign women. “Leader Yang, it’s really no big deal. I’ll be careful. Besides, aren’t you planning to transfer me to the import-export company here in the future? There, the restrictions aren’t as strict.”

Import-export company. He’d planned ahead, already factoring it in, though even these companies were tightly regulated now.

It wasn’t like the future, when major arms import-export companies abroad would hire thousands, with little scrutiny of staff’s personal lives. For now, strict supervision and careful checks were the norm.

Lianfa wouldn’t listen now, but perhaps letting him experience it was best. He’d only be in Europe for a few days; a cooling-off period back home would do him good.

“Do as you wish, just mind the rules. Focus on the negotiations—remember, you’re there to negotiate, nothing else.”

Lianfa nodded eagerly. “Don’t worry, Leader Yang. I know what our job is—I won’t mess it up.”

Although Yang Hui was still uneasy, he decided not to intervene. If Lianfa bungled this minor negotiation, they could keep him back at the institute as a research fanatic. Better for problems to show now than later.

...

Yang Hui continued training the model aircraft pilots. A few more days and they’d receive their graduation certificates—though, as for “pilot’s licenses,” Yang Hui’s team had no authority to grant them.

One by one, the model aircraft soared skyward; on the ground, pilots in the “cockpit” wore sunglasses, their gazes following the moving models.

The sunglasses themselves were a subject of interest. Military sunglasses rose alongside pilots. In the era of biplanes, high-altitude flights meant frequent exposure to direct sunlight, prompting the creation of sunglasses for eye protection. Their peak came during the Second World War.

With American pilots participating worldwide during WWII, U.S. military sunglasses became especially popular, soon adopted by other branches. After the war, with the advent of jet fighters and pilot helmets, sunglasses lost much of their practical use.

Yet, as symbols of pilots—tools for looking cool—they became essential gear, evolving into a culture of their own.

Now, in model aircraft flying, sunglasses had reappeared; the legend lived on.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Xie Lianfa waited for ages before finally meeting Mara, who had come to discuss the project. Xie Lianfa was visibly nervous. Mara, bold and open as many Western women are, nonetheless lacked experience in partnership negotiations.

Both sat nervously, looking for all the world like a couple on their first date.

“Hello, Ms. Mara, I’m the model aircraft company manager you spoke to yesterday. My surname is Xie, you may call me Mr. Xie. I’ll be handling negotiations with you.”

Neither came from a business background; both were technical specialists, unfamiliar with negotiation rules or tactics. Mara was no exception.

“Oh, hello, Mr. Xie. I was very interested in the partnership you suggested yesterday, so I’m here to discuss the details.”

No documents, no proof—just the two of them negotiating. It was almost comical, oddly surreal.

“Our model aircraft are of excellent quality—military-grade. Technologically advanced, and uniquely positioned in the market. Currently, there’s no competition from similar products.”

“Yes, I wanted to cooperate precisely because your company’s technology and products are advanced, and the ongoing technical support is strong. So I’d like to discuss how our cooperation would work.”

Once the conversation opened up, it flowed smoothly; experience comes with time. Mara’s question about the mode of cooperation had already been settled in yesterday’s group discussion, so Xie Lianfa answered without hesitation.

“The specific plan is this: we’ll collaborate. Your company can sell our model aircraft and related products, and you may increase the sale price by up to 5%—that 5% will be your commission. We only charge our set price.”

Hearing the main condition for sales agency, Mara realized she could accept it. Five percent of an $80,000 model was $4,000—a substantial sum. Though it would be hard to sell at such a high price, perhaps an extra one or two thousand dollars could be gained, which was still excellent.

After calculating her potential earnings, Mara began to inquire about after-sales service. It was likely the main reason she could secure agency rights.

“What are your requirements for after-sales service? What obligations must I undertake?”

Xie Lianfa explained, “After-sales service is tied to the sales agency—these two go together. After-sales means helping maintain the model aircraft. We offer three years of free after-sales service after purchase. During those three years, for non-human-related issues, you must help resolve them. We’ll replace damaged parts, but you must keep the damaged parts for our periodic inspection before disposal.”

The point was clear: they would reimburse parts, but would check for fraud.

“If we provide free after-sales service, what about labor? No salary each month?”

This had already been considered. “We don’t pay monthly salaries for after-sales staff, but we do pay a flat rate per aircraft maintained—$100 per aircraft per year.”

“Only $100 per year?”

“Actually, it’s not low. Models rarely have problems; if something happens mid-flight, it’s usually a total loss, no maintenance needed. Plus, it’s only for three years—after that, you set your own repair fees.”

Three years, $100 per aircraft per year? After weighing it mentally, Mara finally decided to proceed. It wasn’t much, but with a hundred aircraft, it would amount to $10,000—a worthwhile venture.