When Haifeng arrived home that evening, he called out:
"Mom, Dad—I'm back!
Huh? Where's my sister?"
His mother, Ye Ruhua, rushed over the moment she saw him.
"Son, you're finally home. You've lost weight!"
Haifeng laughed.
"Lost weight? If anything, I've gained a few pounds."
"Where's little sis?"
"She went out with her classmates."
Then, his father, Lu Xingfu, looked up from the couch.
"What brings you home for dinner, eh? You don't usually come back unless something's up."
Haifeng didn't beat around the bush.
"Lao Zhang mentioned something earlier…
Do we have a vehicle manufacturing license?"
Lu Xingfu raised an eyebrow. "Hmm… I think we do. Why?"
Haifeng gave him a long look.
"Dad… back when you registered the company, you got a car manufacturing license?
What were you planning to do—build cars?"
"I always thought your company was just an auto parts supplier."
Haifeng might never have known if Zhang Yu hadn't casually mentioned it. His father had once dreamed of building cars until reality hit.
Nowadays, he barely steps into the factory and fakes deathly ill over a light cold to call Haifeng home.
Xingfu gave a tired sigh.
"What else could I have done?
I didn't have the tech. Didn't have a team."
"If I went all-in, we'd probably be sleeping under a bridge by now."
In recent years, older men have switched their focus entirely to investments. He considered manufacturing too slow and too risky. Quietly, he had made a small fortune.
"I've made some good money," Xingfu said smugly.
"And hey, how could I afford to send you overseas if I hadn't?"
Haifeng had to admit—it was true.
When he first proposed getting into contract smartphone manufacturing, his father had handed him millions and bought a struggling factory on the spot.
"Part training, part test. If you lost money, it'd be a good experience."
Haifeng smiled.
"Seems like you've gotten pretty sharp with investments, Dad."
Xingfu puffed up with pride.
"Of course. I've invested in more unicorns than you can count."
"You looking for tips?"
"Kinda. Are any startups on the brink of collapse? Let me join in."
"Not right now. But come on, out with it. What's this really about?"
Haifeng didn't hesitate.
"I'm going to start building cars. I'll need your help regarding vehicle inspections and regulatory approvals."
Xingfu nearly dropped his teacup.
"...You what?
You're going through with it?!"
He fell silent for a long moment.
Then he looked his son in the eye.
"Son… even if I gave you every cent I've got, it still wouldn't make a dent in the car business."
"You're doing great with phones. Why jump into this bottomless pit?"
Haifeng calmly pulled out the engine blueprint he'd downloaded from the system and placed it on the table.
His father scanned the diagram. The data was solid—extremely professional.
"Where did you get this?"
"Our company lab."
Xingfu exhaled slowly. "Alright… seems like you've done your homework."
He leaned back, expression unreadable.
"Well, you've accomplished a lot lately.
I'll hand over the company and factory starting tomorrow."
"Do what you want."
"Worst case? You go bankrupt.
Sell the factory, move on to something else… or come home and sponge off me."
Haifeng grinned.
"I'm not planning on mooching off you anytime soon."
He knew his father wasn't confident he'd succeed, but he wasn't standing in the way.
His father once had the same dream but had been forced to give it up. That made him cautious but not dismissive.
Let the kid try. If he fails, he still has the phone company.
Then, from the kitchen:
"Are you two done talking? If you're not eating, I'm clearing the table!" his mom shouted.
Ye Ruhua walked in, wiping her hands.
"Don't mind your dad. If you want to do something big, I support you."
"Just know car building eats money. You'll have to work hard."
"I'll keep an eye on the mobile phone company's finances so we don't run dry."
"If the losses get too heavy? Sell the factory and start over. You've got another company, right?"
Haifeng couldn't help but smile.
Even Mom doesn't think I'll succeed…
📍 Next Morning – China Star Auto Factory
Haifeng arrived and met with Zhao Jianhua, the longtime plant manager, and an old family friend.
"Xiao Feng, should I be calling you General Manager Lu now?" Zhao said with a grin.
"Uncle Zhao, don't tease me."
The man was in his 50s, around the same age as Haifeng's father. He'd worked with them for decades—and Haifeng had grown up playing in this factory.
Zhao even made him toys when he was little. In many ways, Zhao was the reason Haifeng fell in love with engineering.
"Uncle Zhao, how's the auto parts factory doing?"
"How long until we finish the current orders?"
Zhao lit up.
"We've been doing great. We've got a few big orders lined up—worth about ¥70–80 million. Profit is around ¥4–5 million."
"We'll finish all deliveries by Chinese New Year—plenty of time."
"After that, though, we need to land new orders to keep people busy."
"I was planning to visit Huazhong Auto next week. They're finalizing a new model and might need large-scale parts supply. Could be worth another ¥70–80 million."
Haifeng smiled.
A year ago, he would've jumped at that deal.
But now?
He made more selling phones in half an hour than that entire order was worth.
He shook his head.
"Uncle Zhao, let's finish our current deliveries. After that, we're shutting down external contract manufacturing."
Zhao looked stunned.
But after a beat, he nodded.
"Understood."