Spark

Early the next morning, Meng Qinghao called Kuchma early and invited him to have dinner with him.

Kuchma hesitated when he received the call.

For UKR, which is fully in line with the West, this kind of banquet outside of normal business etiquette should obviously not be accepted, but the problem is that Meng Qinghao is really too generous.

Every dinner must be the highest-standard restaurant, the highest-standard drinks, and the highest-standard souvenirs. If he brings a female companion, he will even give the other party's female companion a special gift.

Take last week's dinner as an example. Meng Qinghao gave Kuchma's wife a jade bracelet specially brought from China. The unprecedented clear, pure and rich light blue completely conquered his imagination. Madam, even though she knew she had a business relationship with her husband, she still kept praising the bracelet, Meng Qinghao, and the Huaxia people at the dinner table.

After a meal, Kuchma himself was even a little shaken.

Are Chinese people really that good?

Then why, instead of cooperating with them, do you want to cooperate with the Americans?

In addition, the cooperation between Motor Sic and Dongqi has not yet begun, but the other party is willing to invest so much in themselves. I have to say that they are indeed a group of generous businessmen.

And the cooperation of more generous people is always pleasant.

Thinking of this, Kuchma sighed and thought to himself:

Think of it as an ordinary dinner between friends, anyway, the outcome of this plan has already been doomed, and I don't need to have too much burden.

If you really want to blame, blame the Americans

So, after a day's work, Kuchma came to the restaurant Meng Qinghao mentioned on time.

He reported his name, and the polite doorman standing at the door immediately welcomed him to a private space at the back of the restaurant.

Then, the waiter who replaced the doorman brought him comfortable slippers, diluted vodka mixed with syrup, and three hot towels for different purposes.

Everything is done according to Kuchma's favorite way-this is obviously a top restaurant that many people can't step into in their lifetime, but it is decorated like his own home.

This sense of power and resources fascinated him.

He wiped his hands and face clean, put on his slippers, drank the glass of sweet vodka in one gulp, and then sat down on the sofa, quietly waiting for his friend, Meng Qinghao, to arrive.

However, what puzzled him was that his friend who was never late was actually late this time.

Not only was he late, even after he took the initiative to call him, the other party actually hung up.

what happened?

Kuchma frowned. Of course, he wasn't worried that he wouldn't be able to pay his bill because the other party put pigeons on him. After all, he was considered a high-income group in the city, and his occasional consumption was not a big deal of pressure.

However, the other party's negligent attitude made him a little displeased.

Hang up the phone?

Maybe there is something urgent, but at least it should be notified in advance

With such a mood, Kuchma waited for half an hour before Meng Qinghao finally arrived.

His face was covered with sweat, and as soon as he entered the room, he hurriedly said to Kuchma apologetically:

"Mr. Kuchma, my friend."

"I'm so sorry, I was temporarily arranged for an important meeting, and it was too late when it ended."

"I didn't get your call because there was an information blackout on this meeting—you know, this kind of thing is not uncommon in our industry."

Hearing his words, Kuchma nodded slightly, and said with relief:

"I get it, we do that sometimes."

"But you don't have to be so anxious. Give me a call after you're done. I don't mind waiting for you a little longer."

Meng Qinghao put on an extremely sincere expression, and replied:

"I know you'll wait for me even if you don't call—this is probably our tacit understanding."

"Hahahahaha indeed."

The two exchanged a few more pleasantries, and Meng Qinghao finally sat down. He asked the waiter to prepare the menu according to the pre-ordered menu, and complained to Kuchma:

"I don't know about your company, but I really have had enough of our company's system."

"You know, I'm obviously a business person, but they insisted on letting me participate in technical seminars, and they said it was for us to improve ourselves and be more conducive to our work."

"But in fact, it's all formalism. I didn't listen to a single word of the 4-hour seminar—it was all mathematical formulas!"

"Kuchma, can you understand this feeling?"

Kuchma shook his head with a smile, and replied:

"I'm afraid I can't understand. I started from the most basic technical personnel, so most of the technologies are not for me"

"I can't say it's not difficult, but at least I can understand what they're discussing."

Hearing this, Meng Qinghao showed envy on his face, he shook his head lightly and said:

"I really envy you. I didn't have such good conditions before, so I didn't have much education."

"The knowledge about the business we're talking about is really learned on the job."

"So, what I know is pretty basic and maybe you should go to this meeting."

Kuchma sneered and said:

"Don't say such stupid things, the meeting for information control must be an important technical meeting."

"Before our cooperation has not been reached, we'd better not have any technical exchanges. This is not in compliance with the rules, and there is a risk of leaks."

"Of course, of course."

Meng Qinghao answered quickly.

At this moment, the appetizers were brought to the table one by one, and the two of them also skipped this seemingly sensitive topic, and turned to chatting about bad weather, vodka, women, and flesh-colored stockings.

On this Friday night, the two were quickly drunk.

Meng Qinghao kept telling Kuchma about the difficulty of work through his drunkenness.

"Kuchma, really, I really need this cooperation, not for some lofty goal, but for myself."

"If I can't take you down, then my bonuses for the whole year will be wasted. When I go back, I will have no face to face my wife."

"Don't look at me when I usually come out with you, but it's all the company's money."

"Compared with these luxurious meals, I want a house that allows me to settle down."

"What a fucking boss, what a fucking life"

Kuchma nodded empathetically. In fact, his experience was very similar to that of Meng Qinghao.

As a high-ranking business representative, or as a technically proficient business representative, he never felt a trace of respect.

In Madacic, only those "direct blood relatives" really enjoy the rights.

And no matter how hard you try, you will be firmly blocked by the invisible ceiling.

Family, friends, and colleagues all think he is very handsome, but in reality?

Probably the same as the man in front of me.

Thinking of this, Kuchma raised his glass again.

On this day, both of them got drunk.

In a daze, Kuchma remembered that it was Meng Qinghao who sent him home.

The other party seemed to have drunk too much. In the taxi, he kept mumbling about "I don't understand those mathematical terms at all", "What kind of bullshit model, why should I learn, why should I take the exam", "Cutch Ma, do you know what is the prediction of fluid heat-solid properties", "I really want to slap those shitty teachers, I don't understand at all".

Was he complaining about the so-called technical seminars he mentioned earlier?

Discussion on thermosetting properties?

It sounds like it is indeed quite professional, probably related to the turbine blades.

No wonder Meng Qinghao couldn't stand listening.

As a business person, it is good to know this kind of thing, but even if you don't understand it, it will have no effect.

Kuchma felt dizzy for a while, but at the last second before he fell asleep, a word suddenly flashed through his mind and lingered for a long time.

Turbine Blade Flow Thermoset Properties. Prediction? ?