That evening, after Ye Guohua came home, he told Heifeng the new Automobile Association would hold its inauguration in two days and that the Ministry wanted him well-rested and present. Heifeng was not particularly excited about associations or ceremonies, but he understood the upside. If the state were moving to clean up the car market and set unified standards, that could only be good for sustainable growth. He agreed to lie low at his grandmother's courtyard for a couple of days and show up when called.
Two mornings later, a car arrived early to collect him. The venue was the Beijing Hotel. Deep pockets were at work: the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology had booked a cavernous ballroom that could easily seat a thousand, lights raked across a stage dressed in a sober palette, and a reception team moved guests along smooth as clockwork. The guest list was broad. All the major domestic automakers had sent senior people, and every foreign brand operating in China was on the roll.
Around ten o'clock, the car dropped Heifeng off at the main entrance. A hostess intercepted him the moment he stepped out, greeted him by name, and guided him to a reserved seat not far from the center aisle. He could feel the air change as he crossed the threshold; plenty of faces were already turned toward the door, and more than a few were foreign. Clusters of three and five had formed across the hall, the talk lively and low, but many glances kept slanting back to the entrance as if they were waiting for a particular animal to walk into the clearing.
Near a side table, Assef, head of Volkswagen Group China, was trading small talk with the China heads of Bora and Audi. He was presentable as ever, but his attention kept drifting, and each time the doors opened, a flash of irritation crossed his eyes. The two colleagues with him wore the same look; they were in the room, but their minds were fixed on a single target.
A new voice broke into their circle. "Assef, long time no see." The speaker was Xin Ke, newly appointed head of BMW China, glass in hand, smile practiced. Assef stood with courtly precision. "Why, if it isn't the finest professional manager in Germany," he said, the irony kept just shy of audible. The Germans made quick introductions; they all knew one another anyway, and traded a few polite sentences. Then Xin Ke cut to it. "You seem distracted," he said. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Assef replied, shrugging. "We were just discussing whether a certain somebody intends to show today." His face tightened on the last words. He did not need to name the person; everyone in their circle knew who could trigger that mix of resentment and attention. At headquarters in Germany, the name had been coming up for months: Lu Heifeng, the man at the center of the storm now known as Audi Motors' upstart chairman. Even Xin Ke was curious to see whether the legend would bother with a ceremony.
A few minutes later, the Bora executive touched Assef's elbow. "Look," he said. "He's here." When Heifeng came in, motion rippled across the room. Expressions changed by the row: some faces showed frank envy, others sly admiration. From the foreign tables, the response tilted much colder, teeth clenched behind cordial smiles. From the domestic side came nods, raised hands, and quick, approving greetings. Whatever the mix of opinion, the center of gravity in the ballroom had shifted.
Heifeng had barely taken his seat when Li Li of Liji Motors trotted over, all energy and friendliness. "Mr. Lu, long time no see, dinner's on me tonight," she said. Before he could answer, Li Changcheng slid in with a laugh. "You're inviting Mr. Lu? That sounds suspicious. Better let me host him instead." Then he lowered his voice and leaned in. "Be careful today. Some people are looking to make trouble."
Heifeng followed his glance and saw exactly what Li meant. Several foreign executives were staring straight at him, the ice in their eyes thin but visible. He smiled. "I'm not worried," he said softly. "What waves can they really make here?" The line was light, but his posture made the point clearer; he sat back, at ease, and welcomed a stream of domestic brand leaders who came by to shake hands and exchange a few quick words. For a while, their circle was easy and warm, while the foreigners' corner hardened.
Another procession arrived just then, this one Japanese. Toyota, Honda, Nissan, and Mitsubishi each had sent top brass. The timing felt choreographed, the group threading the aisle with camera-ready composure. As they entered, Toyota's representative, a poised woman named Junko Toyota, scanned the floor as if searching for a single face. Beside her, Honda's Koinu tried to make conversation. "Miss Junko, shall we have dinner tonight?" he ventured. She did not break stride. "Apologies, Honda-kun," she said, voice cool. "I've already said I'm not interested." The refusal was clean; she had dealt with his pursuit before and had no desire to resurrect it. His reputation, she thought, matched his nickname a little too well.
Junko's gaze stopped; the look in her eyes brightened. She turned and walked quickly on her heels and came to a stop at the edge of the domestic circle. "Feng-jun," she said, voice soft but clear, "long time no see." The way she used the honorific made half the nearby heads lift. Without looking, Heifeng knew who it was; only one person called him that. He turned and smiled. "Miss Junko, it has been a while. You look even more radiant than before." A shy color rose to her cheeks at the compliment, and for a moment, the hard edges in the hall softened around them.
Across the way, the Germans tracked the scene with thin smiles. They had come prepared to needle him, to win a few points in front of peers and officials, but this was not the terrain they had pictured. Here, the Ministry's banner draped the stage; here, the domestic brands clustered near the center; here, the wind was not in their favor. They still intended to try, of course, there were conversations to spark and traps to set, but the sight of their rival being greeted by both local leaders and a Japanese star made clear how the currents were running.
The master of ceremonies tested the microphones. Staff signaled for people to take their seats. Around the ballroom, the last pockets of chatter thinned into a hush as the stage lights rose. Heifeng exchanged a final look with Li Changcheng, steady, no worries, and sat forward, ready to watch the Ministry formalize a body that might change the rules by which his enemies had long played. For now, he let the attention fall where it wished, and he allowed himself the smallest smile. In this room, at least today, he was not the one being herded.