65: Chapter 65 The Story of the Sealing Ring

The rainy season in Shen City was always lingering.

Outside the window, neon lights blurred into a hazy glow on the wet streets.

In the conference room of the high-rise office building, the air was as heavy and stifling as solid lead.

Deng Renfang sat at the end of the long table, his back ramrod straight like a taut string.

His semi-worn navy blue suit was impeccably ironed, yet it could not hide the deep exhaustion etched between his brows.

His palms tightly gripped a thick report titled 'Progress Summary and Subsequent Funding Requirements for the New High-Weather-Resistant Sealing Material R&D Project,' the edges of the paper already slightly wrinkled from his grasp.

"CEO Deng,"

A middle-aged man with slicked-back hair and a large gold ring on his finger spoke slowly from the left side of the head of the table. He was the representative of the largest individual investor, surnamed Li.

"It's not that we don't support you. When we first heard about your dream of high-end sealing rings, we were fired up too and didn't hesitate to pour money in. But it's been three years! Three years! The money is like it's being thrown into a bottomless pit; we haven't even heard a decent splash! Look at the financial statements,"

He tapped another document on the table with his thick fingers.

"Last year's profits were entirely supported by those iron rings from the old factory!"

"And the result? You're something else—you didn't keep a single cent of profit, dumping it all into that... that Supramolecular Polymer black hole!"

A low murmur of agreement rippled through the conference room.

The other shareholder representatives were either expressionless or shaking their heads with sighs, their gazes filled with scrutiny and pressure as they focused on Deng Renfang.

"Mr. Li, fellow shareholders."

Deng Renfang cleared his dry throat, his voice slightly hoarse, but he made an effort to remain steady.

"The difficulties in R&D have exceeded our initial expectations. For high-end seals, especially special sealing materials that can withstand extreme temperature differences, strong corrosion, and ultra-high pressure, the core barriers lie in the material formulas and processes. This isn't something that can be solved just by throwing people and time at it; it requires massive data simulations, molecular-level predictions, and optimization..."

"Predictions? Optimization?"

Mr. Li scoffed and interrupted rudely.

"CEO Deng, don't give me those empty, fancy words!"

"I'll just ask one thing: those AI-assisted design tools on the market—did you buy them? Did you use them? And the results? Aren't you still stuck here!"

"We used them!"

Deng Renfang's voice rose involuntarily, tinged with suppressed bitterness.

"We bought the best industrial AI platform available! But its predictive capabilities are simply not up to par when faced with this brand-new material system that lacks sufficient historical data!"

"The computing costs for a single complex molecular dynamics simulation are terrifyingly high, and the results often end up being completely off-track! We are crossing the river by feeling for stones; every step is a trial and error paid for with cold, hard cash!"

He spread his hands, deep helplessness in his eyes.

"Everyone, I know you want returns. But we, Renfang Technology, cannot forever only produce those iron rings with low technical barriers and thin profit margins!"

"The country is pushing for industrial upgrades, and high-end equipment manufacturing needs reliable core basic components!"

"If we don't do it, are we supposed to rely on imports forever? To live at the mercy of others? If they ever cut us off, our entire industry chain will come to a standstill! This isn't just a business; this is..."

"Enough, enough, CEO Deng!"

Another elegantly dressed female shareholder representative waved her hand impatiently; she was a director dispatched by a certain fund.

"We understand your sense of national mission, but the fund's money doesn't just blow in with the wind! Investors want to see performance and expected returns!"

"You're dumping all the profits into this now, even mortgaging your own house and car. Is the next step to lose all of us shareholders' principal as well?"

"This project must be re-evaluated! Either cut the budget or... find another way out! We can't keep being the suckers here!"

"Right! There must be an explanation!"

"CEO Deng, you have to give us a straight answer: how much longer are you going to keep filling this bottomless pit?"

"We invested in a company, not a charity!"

The voices of doubt were like a cold tide, crashing in wave after wave.

Deng Renfang felt as if a giant boulder were pressing on his chest, making it difficult to breathe.

He looked around at these shareholders who had once been fired up and generous when he was sketching out his blueprints; now, only cold faces focused on profit remained.

He had started the company from scratch, from a tiny rubber product workshop on the street to a medium-sized enterprise with several factory areas today; every step had been soaked in sweat.

But now, for that dream of high-end sealing rings, he had gambled his entire fortune and dragged the company into a quagmire.

The meeting ended on a sour note.

The shareholders filed out, leaving behind the ultimatum: "Produce a feasible plan within a week, or we will initiate a liquidation assessment."

In the vast conference room, only Deng Renfang remained, along with that heavy report.

The rain outside seemed to have intensified, pattering against the glass, much like his chaotic thoughts at this moment.

He leaned back wearily against his chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his throbbing temples hard with his fingers.

Loan notices for his mortgaged property, calls from suppliers demanding payment, employee payrolls... countless faces and numbers swirled in his mind.

His phone vibrated.

It was a WeChat message from his wife, Lin Jing, containing only a picture.

On the dining table at home were two bowls of steaming tomato and egg noodles, with a small dish of his favorite pickled cucumbers on the side.

The caption read: "Old Deng, come home for dinner. The noodles won't taste good if they get soggy."

A surge of bitterness rushed up his nose.

Deng Renfang took a deep breath, suppressed his surging emotions, picked up his phone and briefcase, and walked out of the cold conference room.

When he returned to their home—small but cozy and tidy, located in the old district—the aroma of food dissipated some of the chill.

Lin Jing came out of the kitchen wearing an apron. Seeing the gloom between his brows and the damp rain spots on the shoulders of his suit, she asked nothing. She simply took his bag and coat and said softly,

"Wash your hands; it's time to eat."

It was quiet at the dinner table.

There were only the slight sounds of slurping noodles and chopsticks clinking against bowls.

Their daughter was away at boarding school, so it was just the two of them at home.

"Jing," Deng Renfang muttered while poking at the noodles in his bowl, his voice sounding muffled.

"Today... the shareholders' meeting was very stressful."

"Mm, I figured."

"Did Fatty Li and the others cause trouble again?"

Lin Jing served him a piece of pickled cucumber with her chopsticks.

"It was more than just causing trouble..."

Deng Renfang gave a bitter smile and briefly recounted the disputes at the meeting.

"...They're forcing me to cut the project or find a buyer. But I... I'm not willing to give up! We're so close to the breakthrough!"

Lin Jing listened quietly. Only after he finished did she put down her chopsticks and look into her husband's bloodshot eyes.

"Old Deng, do you remember when we first met? You were running a stall at the night market, selling rubber seals you'd tinkered with yourself. You were exposed to the elements without even a fixed spot."

Deng Renfang was stunned, his thoughts pulled back to over twenty years ago.

Back then, his hands were always covered in grease. Lin Jing had just graduated from university and, despite her family's objections, followed him to live in a cramped rented room in an urban village.

"Back then, you told me you wanted to make the best rubber rings so that machines would stop leaking oil."

Lin Jing smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes softening.

"Later, when you opened the small workshop with three broken machines and two workers, and couldn't even pay their wages, you gritted your teeth and made it through."

"During the hardest times, we even pawned our gold wedding rings just to buy that batch of raw materials."

Deng Renfang's throat tightened as he recalled those pioneering days of hardship, his eyes welling up.

"Now,"

Lin Jing reached out and gently covered the back of Deng Renfang's hand on the table. Those hands were no longer young and were covered in calluses, yet they were warm and steady.

"The house is mortgaged, the car is sold, and the savings are gone. Compared to back then, does it seem even worse?"

She looked into her husband's eyes, her voice calm and powerful.

"But so what? If I could stay by your side as you built something from nothing back then, I can stay by your side now as you go from something to nothing."

"I don't understand high-tech stuff or your material formulas. All I know is that what you, Deng Renfang, want to do has never been just about the money."

"That leak-proof ring you want to make will allow our country's machinery to run more steadily, right?"

Deng Renfang turned his hand over and gripped his wife's hand tightly, his rough palm conveying wordless strength and warmth.

A thousand words were stuck in his throat, eventually turning into a single hoarse "Jing..."

"So,"

Lin Jing withdrew her hand and patted him.

"Don't be so dejected. Deal with the shareholders as you must. I'm here at home; you won't go hungry."

"If the money is gone, we'll earn it again. As long as the dream is still there, you have to keep chasing it. Eat! The noodles really are getting soggy!"

She got up to get him some soup from the kitchen. Her figure was still slender, yet it radiated a resilience forged through trials.

Deng Renfang watched his wife's back, then looked down at the simple yet steaming bowl of noodles.

The sound of rain outside continued, but the coldness and confusion in his heart seemed to have been mostly dispelled by this small dining table.

The pressure from shareholders, the financial predicament, and the technical barriers still loomed ahead like massive mountains, but at this moment, the flame of defiance and responsibility in his heart was rekindled by his wife's trust, burning even brighter.

He picked up his chopsticks and began eating the slightly soggy noodles in large mouthfuls, as if chewing through the bitterness of life while drawing strength to move forward.

Though a sealing ring is small, it is an indispensable link in the operation of a great nation's heavy equipment.

His home was small, yet it was his sturdiest fortress against the storm.

No matter how difficult the road, he had to keep going.