"I imagine the others are in the same shape." Ming Huang spoke through clenched teeth, his frustration evident.
The Audi A8's weak numbers, he said, were the direct result of a coordinated squeeze by BMW, Mercedes-Benz, and Volkswagen Group. "Right, President Lu, word from a few 4S stores is that BMW is throwing out more than ¥100,000 (≈ $14,286) in discounts on their new model to goose sales." He exhaled hard. "I'm sure Mercedes-Benz and Volkswagen are doing the same. Big cuts, fast volume."
Heifeng had expected this. "Let them strut for now. Our pricing is still an advantage against BMW, Mercedes-Benz, and Volkswagen. Buyers have just been blitzed by their ads, and they brought in a parade of celebrities this round.
If their numbers look better for a few days, that's normal." He paused, gauging the cadence of a launch week. "Give it a moment. Once the initial burst fades, they'll hit fatigue, and that's our opening. The A8's sales will lift when the noise dies down."
"I know what to do, President Lu."
"Then go handle it."
After hanging up, Heifeng stretched out on the recliner and let his eyes close. He wasn't rattled. In the short term, the A8's sales looked low, even bleak in places, but the car's strongest card was its price. On brand aura alone, Audi could not yet match BMW, Mercedes-Benz, and Volkswagen at the very top end.
You cannot mint a prestige marque in a season. And the slump was isolated to D-class. In the B- and C-class segments, the mid to mid-high tiers, Audi could pummel those rivals without breaking stride.
Beijing, at Paul Xinke's apartment. Xinke was in a celebratory mood. In two days, BMW's D-class luxury sedans had cleared 1,000 units. For that segment, anywhere, those were exceptional results. Full-size flagships are expensive; they never sell like midrange cars, but the profit per unit is a different animal.
Take the base BMW 735 as an example. Even after a promotional discount of ¥100,000 (≈ $14,286), each car still nets around ¥300,000 (≈ $42,857). And the real margin monster is the options list, where a few quick boxes add well over ¥100,000 (≈ $14,286) to the ticket.
Alone with a glass of wine, Xinke murmured to himself, "A perfect start. Audi might dominate in the mid and low tiers for now, but if we nail down the high end, we'll pry back the middle in time."
Early the next morning, Heifeng's grandmother dragged him to the open-air market for vegetables. As soon as they returned, his phone rang.
"Hello, President Lu. I'm Xiu Wang, director of Focus Report."
"Hello, Director Wang."
If not for the call, Heifeng would have forgotten that his uncle, Guohua Ye, had promised to line up a TV interview. "President Lu, we'd like to do an exclusive with you. Would you have time in the next couple of days? We won't take much of it."
Xiu's tone was careful, even deferential. The interview had been greenlit from above. The brief was to frame Heifeng as a model "positive-energy" entrepreneur and give him national exposure. On top of that, the program team already knew the "Top Ten Outstanding Youth of China" selection was coming soon, and that the top spot had effectively been reserved for Heifeng.
In this climate, the young founder wasn't just hot, he was on the leaders' lips. As long as he didn't trip himself, his runway looked endless.
Xiu knew his place. He was a small-rank director at CCTV, nowhere near Heifeng's orbit, and internal competition at the network was fierce. Securing this interview had cost favors. If the episode landed as hoped, his authority and standing would rise with it.
"I'll be in Beijing for the next two days," Heifeng said. "I have time."
"Great. Once I lock down details, I'll call and we'll set the location."
Heifeng would give him face. The seat Xiu represented was different from a typical journalist. Besides, this was a chance to state Audi's positioning and values cleanly on the record. Among TV programs, Focus Report sat just behind the nightly News Broadcast, with outsized influence and a particular national tone.
"Thank you for joining us, President Lu."
"Thank you for organizing it, Director Wang."
When Xiu hung up, he immediately began assembling his team. Heifeng stayed in the courtyard, chatting with his grandmother and mother while waiting for the follow-up call. The interview his uncle had arranged was still a few days out, and barring surprises, he would remain in Beijing until after the blind date his family had scheduled.
To him, it was a formality. He didn't take it seriously. He simply didn't want to irritate his mother and grandmother, who would make his life miserable with daily setups if he refused.
Fortunately, the company ran smoothly even without him on site.
The next morning came, but the producer's call didn't. Instead, his uncle rang first. Guohua's voice was direct. "Did Hongqi's technical people come find you the day before yesterday?"
At the mention of Hongqi, Heifeng's brow creased, and he thought of Chenggong Xia, insufferably smug one minute and grasping the next. He had guessed they wouldn't give up that easily after being turned down.
"Yes. They came two days ago," Heifeng said. "They wanted the engine technology from the Audi A4 and A6, and I refused."
He walked Guohua through the entire exchange. Ordinarily, Heifeng would do his best to support domestic companies. If someone asked in good faith, he would help within reason. But this was not technical support.
They had fixated on Audi's engine platform itself. The ask disgusted him. He could not make sense of the mindset. Maybe years of cutting corners had formed a bandit logic they no longer noticed, a habit of dressing theft up as "cooperation."