A nation's industrial development begins with junior engineers.

Chapter 1093 Uncle Jin's Stomach Discomfort

"Anything related to the Red China is the most uncontrollable political risk in Washington. Even a glance could get you into trouble. I'm sorry, I really can't help you. Little Jack, please understand my predicament."

After a brief silence, Jack Adams's voice, clearly tinged with frustration, rang out: "I understand, Dean. Thank you for your time, and thank you for listening to us finish. We won't bother you any longer."

Then came the sounds of chairs moving, doors opening and closing, along with the heavy footsteps of two people and the rolling of a trolley, coming from the corridor outside the door. The sounds grew closer and closer, pausing for a moment outside Uncle Jin's ward, as if the two were talking in hushed tones.

"Two hundred thousand dollars! Witt, all our money, plus the amount I withdrew early from the trust fund, we've poured it all in! And all we got in return is this lump of metal!"

The female head of the Chinese delegation looked so...

So beautiful and elegant, yet they're more ruthless than Wall Street vultures when it comes to their prices!

I must have been bewitched by her!

Uncle Jin, who was eavesdropping, couldn't help but twitch his lips, which pulled at the wound on his face, making him wince in pain.

This kid is really willing to spend a fortune!

Do you know what $200,000 meant in 1963? Back then, $100 had the purchasing power of more than 32 yuan today.

In other words, what Jack pulled out was the equivalent of more than six million US dollars in real money today.

What can I do?

That's enough to buy two townhouses with gardens in the most bustling areas of New York. Enough to own a multi-acre estate in the suburbs of Boston, the kind with stables.

It would be more than enough to support ten children from elementary school all the way to a Harvard PhD—keep in mind that before 1960, the total cost of attending Harvard was less than a thousand dollars.

To put it more bluntly: in the 1960s, an American worker's hard-earned annual income was at most four or five thousand dollars. Jack's bet was the entire income of an ordinary worker forty years without eating or drinking.

Uncle Jin's gaze swept over the two people outside the door through the crack in the door, before settling on the machine that Dr. Witt was protecting so fiercely.

hiss……

Which member of your family could do such a feat?

That's some serious talent!

……

"Jack, calm down. Two hundred thousand is a huge sum of money, but you have to understand that this prototype is one of a kind in the Western world!"

Its control logic and thermal efficiency design offer many aspects that are worth learning from and even admiring. Didn't the people from the Blue Giant side also express interest after reviewing the initial materials?

If we really can't find suitable application scenarios and buyers, reselling it to them can at least recover most of the costs, and might even make a small profit..."

The conversation outside the door continued.

"Sell it to the Blue Giant?" Jack's voice rose slightly, tinged with resentment. "That would completely contradict our original plan! We'd only make a quick buck! Only by securing the exclusive distribution rights can we truly take control!"

Once we hand over the prototype, we'll have nothing left!! My father and brothers will think I'm wasting my time even more…”

"Damn grandfather, he actually froze my eligibility to receive the trust funds. Now I don't even have anyone to ask me to do anything, and I have to do everything myself!"

Look at my hands! Are they the hands for pushing a stroller?

"And that damned ringleader, that damned containment policy!"

"That damn thing even ignored the product analysis you stayed up all night writing and told me to get out..."

Uncle Jin sat on the hospital bed, listening to the resentful complaints, his lips twitching slightly. This young master, born with a silver spoon in his mouth, was probably experiencing such humiliation for the first time in his life.

He moved his body slightly, leaned closer to the door, and peered out through the narrow crack, habitually clutching a small gadget with a camera lens in his hand.

In the corridor, Jack Adams stood in front of the cart, head bowed, shoulders slumped, like a defeated rooster. Dr. Witt stood beside him, one hand on his shoulder, speaking softly.

Then, Jack looked up and his gaze fell on the machine covered with an anti-static cloth on the trolley.

He stared at it for a few seconds.

The next second, he suddenly lifted his foot—

“Jack!” Dr. Witt’s voice suddenly changed.

Before Uncle Jin could react to what was happening, he saw Dr. Witt, with an agility completely out of character for a scholar, lunge at the machine. He spread his arms wide, tightly embracing the "Big Yellow 2nd Generation," with his back facing the direction from which Jack had kicked.

A muffled thud.

Dr. Witt lurched forward, his forehead hitting the metal bar of the trolley, but he held on even tighter.

"Witt!!"

The anger on Jack's face vanished instantly, replaced by extreme terror and remorse. He grabbed Dr. Witt and frantically touched the back of his head, shoulders, and back. "Are you alright? Where did you hit your head? Does it hurt? How could you be so stupid! I was just blinded by anger, how could I have actually kicked it!"

Dr. Witt looked up from the machine, a red mark on his forehead and his glasses askew, but a smile played on his lips: “I know you won’t actually kick it. But what if you do? Two hundred thousand dollars, Jack, you can’t afford to fall.”

“You…” Jack’s eyes reddened as he stared intently at Dr. Witt. “Do you know how dangerous that was? What if I hadn’t been able to control myself? What if you had fallen? What if that machine had hit you…”

"It's alright, it's alright." Dr. Witt patted the back of his hand. "I caught it, didn't I?"

Jack didn't say anything, he just hugged him tightly, his chin resting on Jack's shoulder, his whole body trembling slightly.

Dr. Witt patted his back gently, as if soothing a frightened little animal.

The way the two embraced was intimate and tender, perfectly capturing the image of a domineering CEO who had lost his temper, full of regret, and seeking comfort from his sweet little wife.

Uncle Jin watched this scene through the crack in the door, his lips twitched, and a wave of nausea rose in his stomach:

Having lived most of his life, having walked on the edge of a knife, and having seen countless conspiracies and schemes, this was the first time he had ever seen such a cloying and nauseating scene, and he was really struggling to cope.

Damn it, if I hadn't figured out Jack's identity, I would have really thought you guys were putting on a Gone with the Wind show right in front of me...

Yes, Dr. Witt, Uncle Kim doesn't remember him and can't recognize him, but he does have a vague recollection of the blond, blue-eyed young man in front of him—Jack Adams, the notoriously unconventional youngest son of the Adams family.

Rumors occasionally circulate within the CIA about him, saying that he was unwilling to be bound by his family and always wanted to make a name for himself, but he repeatedly encountered setbacks due to his sexual orientation, making him an "outlier" marginalized by his family.

It was him.

Jin Wumai stroked his chin, a playful smile flashing in his eyes. A member of the Adams family, actually willing to take such a huge risk, using his entire fortune to sell a computer from China?

This seems like it might be worthwhile.

It's important to understand that the Kennedy administration's policy of containing China is now stricter than ever before. Even contacting Chinese products could backfire, let alone promoting them.

Now two clueless young men with some connections have suddenly appeared and put on a show of a domineering CEO falling in love with his young wife right in front of him.

Uh, no, it's more like a gentle older man falling in love with a domineering CEO?

Damn it, what is all this nonsense?

But it doesn't matter, just record this scene.

Uncle Jin looked at the pocket camera in his hand and smiled sinisterly.

Yes, just as the two were embracing each other, Uncle Kim subconsciously pressed the shutter, capturing this highly "convincing" scene.

Don't be offended, this is the basic professional conduct of a secret agent!

Since they'd presented him with a weakness, he didn't mind having a serious talk with these two desperate young men who were eager to prove themselves.

After putting the camera back into his pocket, Uncle Jin took a deep breath, and his face regained its calm, slightly tired expression.

Then, he reached out and opened the door.

With a soft creak.

Jack, who was supporting Dr. Witt and looked annoyed, and Dr. Witt, who was clutching his waist and frowning, were both startled and turned to look at the door.

"It sounds like you're in a bit of trouble?"

Uncle Jin paused, his gaze seemingly casually sweeping over Dr. Witt's hand still clutching his lower back, and Jack's hand still supporting the other's shoulder. His hand unconsciously slipped into his pocket and began snapping photos again.

However, this did not prevent Uncle Jin from continuing in a calm tone:

"And you seem to have a rather peculiar 'iron box'?"

He gently beckoned with his finger towards the ward.

"Push it over here and let me see."

"How about... I try it out?"