Others travel with systems, but I only carry a fishing rod. Fishing for life in courtyards and fishing for skills in steel rolling mills, this makes sense, right?
Until the country sent me to the Canton Fair, facing the patent blockade of Japanese giants and the arrogant questioning of German experts, I silently threw out the fishing rod.
They thought I was negotiating, but actually I was making a nest. This time, what I want to fish for is the throne of the entire Western industry.
