redvbooks Chapter 232 The Phone Call from Mountain View
Chapter 232 The Phone Call from Mountain View
4 PM San Francisco time, July 5th, Mountain View, California.
Harvey Lindbergh, President of Synopsys Asia Pacific, has his office on the third floor of the company's main building, with floor-to-ceiling windows facing east. At this moment, he has just come from an internal meeting about the Asian market, holding a half-finished iced Americano. A copy of the *Wall Street Journal*, handed to him by his secretary, sits in the center of his desk; the front page, folded at the corner, contains an article that was sent back from Shanghai the previous night, with a title that translates to:
"Fifth: China announces Project Qiming, marking the first time in 40 years that the oligopoly in industrial simulation has been directly challenged."
Harvey placed the coffee on the coaster.
He read the headline once. When he got to the words "the fifth one," he silently repeated them to himself before closing the newspaper.
He leaned back in his chair.
He didn't laugh.
Twenty-six years ago, when he was pursuing his PhD at Berkeley, his advisor was one of the second-generation core maintainers of Berkeley SPICE. Berkeley SPICE, first released in 1973, celebrated its 32nd anniversary in 2005 and its 53rd anniversary in 2026. In these 53 years, the core algorithms for global industrial simulation have evolved from SPICE to Spectre, HSPICE, TCAD Sentaurus, and Calibre, with 150,000 patents and over 4,000 core algorithm nodes, 90% of which are held by four oligopolies.
Harvey knows better than anyone how 90% became 90%.
Over the past thirty years, Synaptics, Cadence, Ansys, and Siemens have acquired almost every decent small, independent algorithm company in the world, one by one. After acquiring them, they packaged their core algorithm patents and sealed them into their respective toolchains. For those they couldn't acquire, they used patent litigation to drag them down until their cash flow dried up.
Harvey personally participated in eleven of these acquisitions and personally approved twenty-three of the lawsuits.
So when he saw a report from China at four o'clock that afternoon, with the headline "The Fifth," he wasn't unaware of what it meant. He simply went through those three words in his mind and told himself—
They can't get around it.
He pressed the first button on the internal phone.
"Kate," he said, "take me two numbers. First, to Synaptics China's Chief Legal Counsel, Lujiazui office, Shanghai. Second, to the Chairman of Synaptics' Global Intellectual Property Committee, our Boston office."
"Both lines together?" Kate asked.
"Both lines at the same time," he said. "Start with Shanghai, that's the highest priority."
He put down the microphone and waited for about forty seconds.
It was 7 a.m. on the other side of Shanghai. Synopsys China's Chief Legal Counsel was in his Lujiazui office, having just come from a routine meeting with Huawei.
"Harvey," the voice on the other end of the phone said.
"What happened in Shanghai today? Were you there?" Harvey asked.
"Project Qiming," the voice on the other end of the phone said. "I wasn't there on-site. I read the internal briefing."
"They publicly mentioned five areas," Harvey said: "CMOS, power devices, optoelectronics, quantum interfaces, and MEMS. They said eight years."
"Yes."
"I need you to do one thing," Harvey said. "Within forty-eight hours, compile a complete list of Synopsys' valid core industrial simulation algorithm patents in mainland China, categorized into five boxes. Under each box, prioritize the patents we can 'claim.' The first tier consists of those most likely to be won in mainland Chinese courts; the second tier consists of those that are disputed but can be dragged out for three to five years; and the third tier consists of purely defensive patents."
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone.
"What are you going to assert?" the legal counsel asked.
"I don't want to assert myself," Harvey said. "At least not now."
"Then what do you need the list for?"
“Put it on the table,” Harvey said. “Put it on my table, on the Boston side of the table. Once this list is made, I want it to be updated every six months for the next eight years.”
"Understood," the legal representative said. "The list will only be released, not issued."
"The list is just a list, it's not going out," Harvey said. "Unless one day one of their cubes gets stuck in a position we can't avoid, then we'll flip this table."
He hung up in Shanghai.
The Boston connection picked up about forty seconds later.
Harvey.
"Did you see today's news from Shanghai?"
"I've seen it," the voice on the other end of the line in Boston said. "I've already had my team follow up."
"To what extent?"
"It falls within the scope of our most recent MEMS patent portfolio co-ownership agreement with Cadence, Ansys, and Siemens," the person in Boston said. "In this co-ownership agreement, the four of us have a total of 612 core MEMS-related algorithm patents, 90% of which are registered in the United States, 80% in China, and 70% in Germany. I have already had my team list out the category of those 'that can be claimed in China' separately."
"How many items?" Harvey asked.
One hundred and seventy-two items.
Harvey picked up his coffee and took a sip.
"Of the 172 items," he said, "I'll leave them for now. But on August 12th, the day Weber visits Shanghai, I hope the first item on this list will be on my desk."
"Weber belongs to Infineon," Boston said. "Not ours."
“I know,” Harvey said, “but Infineon is signing a joint agreement with Villon in Shanghai on August 12th. I want this list on my desk before that agreement is signed. I don’t advocate for it. I just look at it.”
"Got it," Boston said.
Harvey hung up the phone.
He sat back down in his chair and looked out the window. The sun was still high in the sky at four o'clock in the afternoon, shining on the leaves of the olive trees on the company lawn and making the edges of the leaves appear white.
He did not get up immediately.
He mentally reviewed the words "fifth company," then picked up the copy of The Wall Street Journal and turned to page two. At the bottom of page two was a small print clipping, a Reuters repost:
"...Su Chen, founder of Vilan Innovation, stated at the review meeting that the third-level objectives of the Qiming Project include quantum-MEMS interactive interface simulation and terahertz band industrial simulation. Experts generally believe that these two objectives will be extremely technically challenging within five years..."
Harvey read this passage twice.
He closed the newspaper.
He did not make a third call.
He finished his coffee.
He reopened the intercom and said to Kate, "Cancel my intercom call with Weber at 6 p.m. today. I'll call again at 8 a.m. tomorrow."
"Okay," Kate said.
He put down the microphone.
He knew he couldn't make that call today. If he did, he wouldn't be able to control his tone. He needed the night.
He needs to tell Weber, in a completely calm tone, at eight o'clock tomorrow morning—that when he signs that joint agreement in Shanghai on August 12th, Newthink will have a list of 172 items under the table. Not out. Just out.
At 12:20 PM Shanghai time on July 6th, in the studio of Hunan TV's "Financial Observation" program.
This midday interview was inserted at the last minute. Originally, the noon program was "Consumer Trends," but the script was changed urgently at 11 pm last night and replaced with a 60-minute financial special with only one theme: Is there any possibility that the Qiming Project will come to fruition?
There were two people sitting in the studio. One was the host, Su Xiaoying, chief editor of Hunan TV's financial channel. The other was the guest, He Zhaoming, a 54-year-old specially appointed professor specializing in industrial software at a university.
He Zhaoming had previously expressed his views on the Qiming Project and Weilan on several television programs. Each time, his wording left room for interpretation—neither directly praising nor directly denying it. This midday interview marked the first time he had definitively stated his position.
Su Xiaoying kept her opening remarks to one minute.
"Professor He," she said, "do you think it's possible for Project Qiming to achieve its goal of creating those five squares on the second layer within the next eight years?"
He Zhaoming placed his hands on the table, folded over each other.
"My opinion is that it's impossible," he said.
The director in the studio subconsciously switched the camera angle.
Su Xiaoying paused for half a second.
"Professor He, could you elaborate?" she asked. "Why is it impossible?"
"Because industrial simulation is a different field from MEMS submicron nodes," He Zhaoming said. "MEMS submicron nodes are a physical process field. China has invested 300 billion yuan in this field over the past decade, and Vilan has succeeded by leveraging that 300 billion yuan. That's a fact. But industrial simulation is not a physical process field; it's about algorithms. In terms of algorithms, China has never succeeded in running a successful program in the 53 years since the first version of Berkeley SPICE was created in 1973."
He paused for a moment.
"Fifty-three years," he repeated. "In those fifty-three years, 150,000 core algorithm patents for industrial simulation have been registered globally. Of these 150,000, 90% are held by four companies—Synopsys, Cadence, Ansys, and Siemens. The remaining 10% are held by three independent US calibration library companies and seven European academic institutions. How many core algorithm patents do the four Chinese domestic industrial simulation companies—Huada Jiutian, GELON Electronics, Guangli Microelectronics, and XinHuaZhang—hold in total?"
He answered it himself.
"Eight hundred and thirty-two items."
"Eight hundred and thirty-two against fifteen thousand," he said. "That's the hand Qiming saw the moment he stepped onto the table."
Su Xiaoying did not interrupt.
"Can Qiming bypass this?" He Zhaoming said, "My answer is—no. First, Qiming has to run five modules, and each module requires industrial simulation. For the industrial simulation to run, the core algorithm can't bypass these 150,000 items. Second, even if Qiming develops its own core algorithm, if the input and output formats are incompatible with Synaptics, Cadence, Ansys, and Siemens, then Qiming's customers won't have historical data from the past twenty years. TSMC, Intel, Samsung, and GlobalFoundries—90% of all TCAD input files from these four companies over the past twenty years are in Synaptics' Sentaurus format. If Qiming can't read Sentaurus, its customers won't have historical data, and Qiming won't be able to run the next generation of nodes."
He paused for a moment.
"Third," he said, "and most importantly, patents."
He picked up the teacup.
"Last year—to be precise, last June—Synopsys, Cadence, Ansys, and Siemens entered into an internal agreement called the MEMS Core Algorithm Patent Sharing Agreement. Few people outside the company knew about this agreement. But in this agreement, the four companies packaged 612 MEMS-related core algorithm patents and jointly held them. Of these 612 patents, about 170 are registered and valid in mainland China."
Su Xiaoying put down her pen.
"More than 170?" she asked.
"More than 170 items," He Zhaoming said. "When Qiming goes out from the second level, when Qiming goes out from the third level, as long as Qiming produces a commercial product in the industrial simulator, a considerable portion of these 170 items will be placed on the table by one of the four companies on a certain morning."
"Will they advocate for it?" Su Xiaoying asked.
"They might not make their proposal in the first year," He Zhaoming said. "They might wait. Wait until Qiming reaches its fourth or fifth year, until Qiming starts to have real cash flow, until Qiming starts shipping—then they will make their proposal."
"If we make a claim," Su Xiaoying said, "how much compensation would be awarded, according to the usual practice of Chinese courts?"
He Zhaoming smiled.
That smile was cold.
"These kinds of exorbitant claims for core algorithm patents," he said, "are typically between $300 million and $500 million per case in US courts. With 172 cases, if we average $300 million, the theoretical maximum is $51.6 billion. Chinese courts usually reduce that—but even if it's halved, it's still $25.8 billion."
He paused for a moment.
"180 billion RMB," he said.
Su Xiaoying did not ask any further questions.
"One algorithm patent," He Zhaoming said slowly, "can make a company disappear from your desk one morning. One hundred and seventy-two patents can make a national-level project be pushed back to year zero one morning."
He gently placed the teacup back on the table.
The studio was silent for a few seconds.
The interview, edited into a 30-second clip, was shared over 600 million times on major Chinese portal websites the following morning. The clips all shared the same seven-character title: "Enlightenment, Is It Really Possible?"
After the midday interview finished airing, He Zhaoming was putting away his phone in the dressing room outside the studio. He had just unlocked his phone when a comment popped up in his Weibo notifications. The comment, from a finance-related account with 320,000 followers, consisted of only one sentence:
"Professor He's remarks today, while seemingly advising Qiming to step down, are actually urging all Chinese companies that haven't yet registered industrial simulation patents to do so as soon as possible."
He Zhaoming locked his phone.
He did not reply.
He knew this comment saw right through the real meaning behind his interview—his true intention wasn't to criticize Qiming. He wouldn't gain anything from that. His real intention was to get those Chinese industrial software company owners, who were still sitting in their offices reading *Financial Observer* after 11:00 AM that morning, those holding two or three hundred million yuan in profits, to pick up the phone after 12:20 PM and call their legal directors to ask: "Can we register another hundred patents this year?"
He knew that once he asked that question, the Chinese industrial software sector would become hotter than Qiming's sector even sooner.
He smiled.
He put his phone in his pocket and walked out of the studio.
2 PM, the large conference room on the third floor of Vilan's Zhangjiang headquarters.
Lin Wei printed twelve copies of the meeting minutes from this morning and placed them on the long table. She turned to the last page and, below the line "Seven Locations Established," added a line in pen:
At 3 PM, the site selection for the Suzhou Industrial Park Materials Calibration Center was initiated.
After she finished writing that line, she looked up and saw Su Chen standing by the window, holding a cup of hot water.
The sunlight streaming in from behind him through the window cast a pale glow on the silhouette of his light gray shirt.
"Did you watch that program on Hunan TV?" she asked.
"I've seen it," Su Chen said.
"You recognized He Zhaoming's last sentence," Lin Wei said.
"I can tell," Su Chen said.
Lin Wei didn't ask any more questions.
She put down her pen, walked to his side, and looked out in the direction he was looking.
Zhangjiang outside the window is nothing special at this moment. It's just an ordinary afternoon in Shanghai in July, with the shadows of cranes on the construction site in the distance swaying slowly in the sunlight.