Haifeng's face was unreadable as he watched Samsung's smear campaign unfold.
Finally, he spoke.
"Post the patent certificates. Now. Let's kill this thing in one blow."
Zhao Lan, head of PR, was already preparing a counterstrike.
But then—bad news.
"President Lu… our official Weibo account's been temporarily banned. Too many reports."
She showed him the admin panel.
Reported. Flagged. Frozen.
CS's official voice had been silenced.
Haifeng tapped the desk once.
"They're going too far."
For a moment, he considered escalating—maybe even leaking something damaging on Samsung's execs through backchannels.
Before he could speak, the tide shifted.
Out of nowhere, Lei Jun posted:
"China Star is one of the most promising tech companies ever seen. They're already leading in some areas."
Then came Jack Ma:
"If any Chinese brand can go global in mobile, it's China Star."
Pony Ma of Tencent joined in:
"The Harmony X series is the best domestic phone I've seen. It holds its own with any brand."
Even Huawei's Yu Dazui weighed in:
"China Star is a worthy opponent. A respectable company."
The industry closed ranks.
They competed with CS, but none wanted to see Samsung succeed with a smear job.
Manufacturers, rivals, even ex-partners—all chimed in:
"They may dominate the charts, but they've never charged licensing fees on lower-tier patents. They've made the domestic ecosystem stronger."
Zhao Lan returned.
"The Weibo appeal went through. We're live again."
Haifeng didn't hesitate.
"Then move."
Across China, public trust was cracking.
Samsung's smear had hit hard.
Fast charging suddenly seemed unsafe. Risky.
People were second-guessing their preorders.
Then, CS posted.
No caption.
No rant.
Just a single image: A scanned copy of CS's official high-voltage fast-charging patent.
It hit like a detonation.
The timeline flooded:
"So they own the tech?"
"Samsung tried to bluff?"
"I canceled my preorder for nothing!"
Samsung's official page went from fanboy hub to war zone.
"Trash brand."
"Lying to cover your weak product."
"Shameful."
Back in his office, Peter Pu was still in shock.
His million-dollar smear campaign had just been shredded in one post.
He stared blankly at the screen as comments ripped into Samsung's credibility.
Then, with a snarl, he flung his Galaxy S5 against the wall.
"Damn it!"
Meanwhile, at CS headquarters—
Orders for the Harmony X2 surged again.
CS's logistics team worked through the night, and warehouse lights burned until dawn.
At 3 a.m., Haifeng opened his dashboard.
The real-time number ticked past 1.8 million units.
He leaned back, exhaled once, then picked up his phone.
"Get the lab on the line. We're not done."