Chapter 1 Unresolved Regret
Tick.
Tick.
Tick...
Su Yuanshan's gaze moved away from the iron-shelled alarm clock with long ears.
At the head of his bed hung a poster of Sylvester Stallone, and at the foot, one of Vivian Chow. On his desk, under a sheet of glass, were photos of him growing up. Against the wall stood a Yanwu dual-cassette recorder, and on top of it, a row of English tapes.
Further over was a Laser-310 learning computer covered with red silk, and on the bookshelf were all his textbooks from childhood along with a few books on electronics.
This was Su Yuanshan's bedroom during his high school days.
February 25, 1991, the eleventh day of the lunar new year.
At this moment, Su Yuanshan had just entered his first year of high school.
Following his original life path, he would have completed high school at Seventh High, then—because his father was an associate professor in the Department of Electronic Science and Technology at the University of Electronic Science and Technology—he had grown up passionate about electronic circuits and programming, and naturally would have chosen to attend that same university.
It would have been there, one autumn, that he met his future wife, Ye Rudai.
After graduating under his father's supervision, he would have applied for studies abroad, earning his master's and PhD in Computer Engineering at Columbia University. Afterward, he would join Intel, spending three years witnessing the birth of the Pentium III and IV, before returning to China with his wife. Soon after, invited by a senior alumnus, he would have joined Guoxin as a logic design engineer, while his wife went back to teaching at the University of Electronic Science and Technology.
He would have worked at Guoxin for eight years, until completely exhausted, before moving to an EDA company as a simulation tools consultant, and eventually joining Haixin as its chief architect.
With his all-around experience in logic design, structural design, and microcode compilation, Su Yuanshan naturally became Haixin's chief architect.
However, reality had proven that without support for a high-end semiconductor industry, no matter how advanced an SOC you could design, it was nothing but a mirage.
...
Su Yuanshan closed his eyes tightly, burying his past life deep in his heart.
Since he had been reborn, there was no need for the melancholic sensitivity of a middle-aged man.
1991 wasn't the worst year for China's semiconductor industry, but it wasn't good either.
This year, Intel was busy making final adjustments to the 80486 and preparing for its next major release.
After cancelling the x86 license for second suppliers during the 386 era, Intel faced AMD and Cyrix, who were using cleanroom reverse engineering methods that drove Intel crazy.
Even though other companies conducted white-box testing—dissecting a CPU and blindly guessing at the microcode until they achieved compatibility—anyone working on x86 architecture couldn't avoid Intel's patents.
The most notorious of these was The Crawford '338 Patent, concerning memory management and cache operations. It was said that no one working on x86 could get around it.
With this patent in hand, Intel mercilessly beat down all the cloners—except for Cyrix, who, leveraging Texas Instruments' licensing, managed to find a loophole.
Those clone companies labeled their CPUs XX386, XX486.
Two years later, Intel's CEO Andy Grove, fuming with rage, declared that if anyone dared call the next CPU "586," they would have to step over his dead body—thus, "Pentium" was born.
Compared to all that, domestically, China was still in ruins. During the 80s, dozens of semiconductor production lines had been imported, but only a few succeeded. With some high-end products being imported, the illusion that "buying is better than making" was born.
When they cloned Intel's C8008 to create the DJS-050, they had been only five years behind.
The 908 Project, still under review, would be approved next year but would ultimately stall for various reasons.
Su Yuanshan remembered very clearly: next year, one of the EDA giants, Cadence, would enter China and crush the domestic Panda ICCAD software.
Fragments of memory, like fallen leaves covered in dust, grew clearer as his thoughts wandered, helping Su Yuanshan organize everything.
His eyes grew increasingly bright.
Crushing Panda CAD? If he, with thirty years of EDA software experience, knowing every pain point and outstanding future algorithms, pulled people together to create a new EDA from scratch... What would it be?
A dimensionality reduction attack?
...
His mother's call interrupted Su Yuanshan's thoughts.
"Xiaoshan."
"Yes, Mom," Su Yuanshan wiped his face and replied with a smile.
"Hurry up and clean up; your uncle is coming. He said he's bringing you a gift."
"Uncle?" This title, almost forgotten, immediately brought back some unpleasant memories, making Su Yuanshan's voice grow heavy: "What's he coming for?"
His uncle, Zhang Ke, had been a star in the family during the 80s and 90s—teaming up with others to run goods from south to north, earning millions in just a few years. Because of this, his mother, Zhang Xiuyun, often grumbled that her professor husband, Su Xinghe, couldn't earn as much as a speculator.
To be fair, Uncle Zhang Ke hadn't been arrogant about his wealth. He had always respected his scholarly brother-in-law and even once gifted Su Yuanshan's father a rare Inspur 486 computer.
But everything changed when Zhang Ke befriended a man who made a fortune reselling second-hand planes.
Under that influence, Zhang Ke grew disdainful of knowledge and dove headlong into the futures market—losing everything, down to his underwear.
Later, he sought out Su Yuanshan's mother, who, being soft-hearted, believed his "I'll repay in a month" nonsense, gave him all their family savings, and even embezzled 100,000 yuan of public funds.
The result was predictable.
Professor Su Xinghe nearly went white-haired overnight trying to borrow money to fill the hole.
Although the matter was never discovered, the family was never at peace again—one of the reasons why Su Yuanshan later sought to study abroad.
After that, his uncle degenerated into a swindler, full of lies.
Su Yuanshan's harsh tone startled Zhang Xiuyun. Uncle Zhang had always treated her son well, and Su Yuanshan had adored him as a child. Was he sick today?
Just as she was about to scold him, she heard Su Yuanshan suddenly sound delighted.
"Uncle's here? I'll go welcome him!"
Throwing on his coat, Su Yuanshan rushed to the door.
Before leaving, he glanced back at his mother.
She had just turned forty, her hair still black, lounging lazily on the sofa watching TV.
"Mom, you're so young."
"Hmm?"
Without explaining further, Su Yuanshan ran downstairs, laughing.
—Right now, his uncle hadn't yet turned into that despised scoundrel. He was still the one who loved him dearly.
When he reached the ground floor, there he was: Uncle Zhang, in his early thirties, full of vigor, standing beside two large cardboard boxes.
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