Reborn To Dominate Technology

Yang Qiang let the applause die down before sliding to the next slide. "Screen's done," he said, voice steady. "Let's talk about the engine that drives it." A schematic of the Jinwu A2 processor blossomed behind him—four luminous cores linked by gold traces, like a constellation etched onto carbon fiber.

Huaxing's A‑series chips had always marched to their beat, but the A2 was a bolder riff. Still quad‑core—Heifeng refused to chase core counts for marketing clout—yet clocked higher, balanced better, and paired with an upgraded ISP that chewed through computational photography workloads. The crowd leaned in as Yang teased the benchmark.

"Normal mode score, you already know. Ultimate Performance Mode—ready?" A drumroll sample rattled the arena speakers; the screen flipped to a blinding white slate: 146,866. Gasps cut through the livestream chat. The compact Star outran phones flaunting octa‑core dragons and tigers in one stroke. A gamer in the front row shot up both fists; engineers in the back exchanged discreet nods—they'd burned many midnight coffees coaxing that number out of silicon.

Yang's confidence never cracked. He outlined why the quad‑core still triumphed: lower thermal ceiling, more innovative scheduling, and the luxury of designing hardware and Harmony OS together instead of bolting code onto a third‑party chip. "We know every register, every throttle threshold," he said. "Ultimate mode isn't a party trick—it's a promise that when you need maximum horsepower, we can give it responsibly."

With momentum on his side, he moved to cameras. A fifteen-megapixel rear sensor and a ten‑megapixel selfie lens are both tuned by our Sky‑Eye algorithm. Some purists would howl about rivals pushing twenty‑plus megapixels, but Huaxing treated resolution like coffee strength—bragging rights meant nothing if the brew tasted burned. Sample photos flashed across the screen: a night market drenched in neon with no smear, a puppy mid‑shake frozen in fur‑sharp detail. Chat comments flipped from skepticism to "Okay, that's clean."

Next came endurance. Yang rattled off the numbers without fanfare: Type‑C port, 15‑watt fast charge, 3050 mAh cell split into two unequal packs for heat management. "A day of mixed use, meaning real‑world messaging‑maps‑music‑video, not airplane‑mode spreadsheet scenarios." The battery specs drew polite applause. The Star wasn't trying to win capacity Olympics, only to hold its own in the commuter grind.

He clicked again, and the dreaded spec table filled the backdrop. But instead of rows of jargon, lines of text unrolled like a story:

• Processor: Jinwu A2 quad‑core, bursts to 2.3 GHz

• Display: 4.6″ 720 p IPS, 240 nits, 2.5D glass

• Memory: 3 GB LPDDR4X, 64 GB UFS 2.0 storage

• Cameras: 15 MP rear (f/1.8) + 10 MP front (f/2.0)

• Battery & I/O: 3050 mAh, 15 W Type‑C fast charge, dual‑SIM

No spreadsheet grid, just clean bullets the audience could digest before Yang pulled up a three‑way comparison against competitors from  Xiaomi,  vivo, and  Apple. Star edged each one somewhere—GPU burst here, battery density there—and never fell behind by more than a whisker. Combined with Harmony OS's fluidity, the phone felt like a flagship crammed into compact jeans.

The chat exploded:

"Quad‑core domination!"

"If they price this under ¥ 1,999, I'm IN."

"Finally, a small phone that isn't entry‑level trash."

Yang soaked in the energy, then pivoted. "Star series, check. Let's return to tonight's headliner." The stage lights dimmed to amber; a cinematic trailer began. A midnight‑blue race car tore across a salt flat, drifting so hard it carved an S into the dust. Flames erupted along the tracks, letters forging from fire: Hongmeng S Series—Ride the Tide.

Silence hung for a heartbeat, then an avalanche of digital applause cascaded down the livestream window. Yang lifted the mic with a hint of nostalgia. "Four springs and autumns—it's been that long since the first Hongmeng S." He traced the S‑line's purpose: democratizing smart tech when cheap phones meant creaky plastics and mystery chips. The first‑gen S broke that mold; tonight, the fourth generation would try to deliver flagship privileges at a midrange price.

The promise electrified the feed. Viewers traded wild guesses: OLED? 30‑watt charging? Triple‑lens array? Price under 2,499 (≈ $343). Even Xiaomi, once crowned king of bang‑for‑buck, had edged upward; could Huaxing resist the same gravity?

Yang let speculation simmer while the trailer looped in miniature on side screens, its burning S a beacon for what was next. Star had proven Huaxing still listened to pocket‑phone devotees. Now S needed to show that affordability and aspiration could still travel in the same chassis.

Backstage, technicians queued the next demo unit, a frost‑white prototype catching stray spotlights like a shard of glacier. Jay Chou sipped water, ready to return for another surprise interlude. And somewhere in the wings, Heifeng watched everything with that signature half‑smile—equal parts pride and impatience—already thinking two products ahead.

The audience didn't know the exact specs, the final price, or the release date, but they'd tasted possibility. When Yang signed off to prep for the S‑series deep dive, every eye stayed glued to the screen, fingers hovering over preorder buttons that weren't even live yet.

Tonight, the little Star had set the sky alight; the coming S would decide how bright Huaxing's constellation could truly burn.