Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen: New Territories Matters

Time passed slowly in its course, and before long, more than two months had gone by.

During this period, Wang Yan sought out many national masters and studied various schools of Chinese martial arts. Many martial artists had come to Hong Kong during the war years, all with legitimate lineages.

Wang Yan paid them high fees to teach him; whether they dared to deceive him was another matter—he himself was a Level 3 Fighter, and his eye for technique was impeccable. He had learned some real skills in Baji, Wing Chun, and Southern Fist with Northern Legs. These old men still held to their principles; whether right or wrong, they had engraved rules into their bones. Wang Yan wasn’t their son or grandson, so he couldn’t learn the true transmissions they kept hidden.

In his spare time, Wang Yan read books on traditional Chinese scholarship to elevate his mental realm and resolve his own inner issues.

One day, Wang Yan was training in the martial arts school he owned when the head of Long Teng Technology rushed in.

Seeing him, Wang Yan immediately understood.

Sure enough, the man excitedly reported the results—VCDs had finally been developed.

Wang Yan didn’t waste words; he waved his hand and ordered payment.

After giving the R&D team a large sum, he issued new improvement tasks and proposed the development direction for DVD.

He then flew directly to Shenzhen with the engineers to oversee production line calibration.

Wang Yan owned many factories—not just in Shenzhen, but in numerous other cities where he had set up VCD production lines. Monthly output was staggering. He had no intention of letting anyone else enter the market; monopoly was where the profit lay.

Wang Yan sent samples to his brothers around the world, determined to make them rich with him. Alone, he’d never sell enough to cover the entire globe.

Domestic factories began overtime production and inventory buildup; advertising campaigns were swiftly filmed and launched.

His brothers, upon seeing the finished product, were ecstatic. None were fools—they knew this was a groundbreaking product, far easier and just as profitable as their usual smuggling operations.

After negotiations, the wholesale price was set at two thousand U.S. dollars, while the factory price was under five hundred red bills. That was the advantage of monopoly. Anyone hoping to pirate it would need at least half a year—by then, Wang Yan estimated he’d have sold it worldwide.

His brothers all pushed hard, launching global advertising campaigns; the VCD was already a worldwide sensation before launch.

Domestically, Wang Yan established a separate import-export company, settling in U.S. dollars at one thousand per unit—helping the state earn more foreign exchange, and besides, he had no use for so many U.S. dollars himself.

Domestically, Wang Yan sold directly; though there were many rich people, the poor were the majority. Average income then was only two or three hundred red bills. He priced it at ten thousand red bills—no way it would sell in large numbers.

After a month, the first million VCDs were swept up by his brothers. As expected, once on the market, every single unit sold out within a day. Wang Yan netted billions in U.S. dollars.

With such vast funds, Wang Yan certainly wouldn’t let the money sit idle in banks.

He bought several plots of land in the New Territories, hired domestic construction teams to build housing complexes, along with commercial centers and schools—all materials shipped from the mainland.

He planned to sell these buildings to his underlings at seventy percent of market price. Most of his gang members came from poor families, crammed with several relatives into tiny apartments. Now that their entire families worked for Long Teng, it was only right he cared for them—it would strengthen Long Teng’s cohesion and inspire loyalty unto death.

When news spread that Long Teng was buying land, building housing, and selling at seventy percent to underlings, the gang members erupted in excitement, shouting to take down East Star. Wang Yan was delighted. With so much money to spend, he openly recruited, steadily expanding and slowly devouring surrounding factions.

He moved steadily—occupy a territory, then impose Long Teng’s rules, just like in Tuen Mun. He didn’t need to worry; Li Yun handled it perfectly.

He also had Long Teng Technology establish a mobile phone R&D team, poaching talent from Motorola and Nokia. His money was truly endless; things he couldn’t touch in the God of Medicine world, he now smashed without restraint.

Various tech factories were gradually established across the mainland, with all manner of compact machines brought over by his brothers.

He also founded a charity company on the mainland, staffed entirely with his own people—to avoid corruption. He wasn’t afraid of corruption; he feared the trouble it brought.

Wang Yan poured in massive investments, continuously importing key technologies and conducting charity work. Though his billions in U.S. dollars meant little to the state level, he was actually doing tangible work.

The mainland leadership saw his determination and were highly satisfied with his performance; thus, Wang Yan enjoyed a green light everywhere on the mainland.

This went on for nearly half a year, and now it was April 1993.

Wang Yan’s VCDs were no longer selling well—mainly because his brothers were too greedy, flooding too many channels. Those who could afford them had already bought them; those who couldn’t were saving up or waiting for a price drop.

He’d also heard rumors of counterfeits; they’d likely hit the market soon.

During this period, Long Teng had grown wildly—over ten thousand underlings. A large organization was hard to manage, especially since Wang Yan commanded remotely from the mainland, inevitably missing things.

Early on, they’d slowly devoured surrounding territories as Wang Yan intended. Later, with more men and underlings eager to prove themselves and rise in rank, they lost all restraint. They directly went to war with East Star and other gangs; East Star was reduced to a second-tier organization, and Long Teng effectively ruled the entire New Territories. At least a hundred thousand people in Hong Kong depended on Wang Yan for their livelihood.

Due to Long Teng’s aggressive expansion, it had offended nearly every Hong Kong gang. Now they’d formed an alliance, tightly guarding against Long Teng, determined not to let it dominate alone. Their combined strength was formidable—Wang Yan couldn’t fight them, and Long Teng’s expansion had stalled.

Honestly, since learning of their alliance, Wang Yan hadn’t returned to Hong Kong. He’d stayed on the mainland, afraid that if he went back, they’d kill him.

Now, it was time—he finally set foot back in Hong Kong.

After carefully reviewing the situation, Wang Yan understood clearly.

The past half-year’s growth had been too fast; Long Teng couldn’t digest such a vast territory.

First priority: stabilize and consolidate. Fully absorb the territories already seized, embed Long Teng’s rules into every member’s mind—only then could expansion resume. With larger territory and more people, things became harder—this process would take time.

Wang Yan also needed time to reflect—his abilities had fallen behind Long Teng’s growth. Controlling so many people and such a vast territory, he clearly felt overwhelmed.

To develop peacefully, he needed the other gangs’ consent. There was no choice—they were too powerful, and he couldn’t afford to provoke them. He had to stabilize them first, then slowly plot. He ceded part of his interests—the VCD sales rights—to several countries. That would keep them fed for a while; each gang wanted the biggest share, so they’d fight each other bloody.

His brothers were all well-fed and knew Wang Yan’s current situation. He’d made them rich—they were grateful. They were gangsters too; they couldn’t be too foolish.

So they readily agreed, surrendering markets with poor potential.

Even if Long Teng’s VCDs weren’t selling well now, they were still exclusive—someone would always buy them.

No matter how powerful Wang Yan was, he couldn’t sell every single unit. Even with six months of frantic production capacity expansion, he’d sell at most a few million units.

So many markets remained. Good products never lacked buyers—he gave them a meaty bone.

No matter how the alliance eventually divided the spoils, some would get more, some less—inequality would become a seed of discord.

Wang Yan successfully diverted their attention by releasing sales rights, breaking their unity and intensifying internal conflict.

With external stability and no more conflict, what else was there to wait for but steady development?

Long Teng still held many territories it hadn’t occupied long enough—continue expanding new areas, leaving many places still chaotic. For lasting peace, the slow way was the only way. Wang Yan issued orders: sweep street by street, open offices street by street.

The New Territories visibly improved at a glance.

Aside from daily time spent managing the company, Wang Yan spent all other hours reading and studying in his newly purchased villa.

Now he read mostly traditional Chinese scholarship and philosophy, to elevate his personal cultivation. These texts were obscure, and Wang Yan’s level was insufficient. So he paid heavily to hire professors and scholars from the University of Hong Kong to teach him personally.

Though seemingly mystical, it was effective—progress was encouraging. Wang Yan clearly felt himself slowly recovering, gradually returning to normal.

Wang Yan held out until early 1994 before temporarily resolving his personal issues.

Traditional Chinese scholarship and philosophy were profound, complex, and difficult to grasp. After half a year of study, Wang Yan had barely reached Level 1 beginner status.

Wang Yan had once considered returning to the real world and using attribute points to solve his problem. But as his understanding of traditional scholarship deepened, he realized this wasn’t something mere mental strength could fix. Attribute points increased mental quantity; persistent learning and self-improvement raised quality—two different directions.

This mystical “mental” thing—he didn’t know if quantity could ever turn into quality. If it could, how many attribute points would it take? How many lifetimes to trigger a change? All he could do was keep improving himself, refining his spirit.

He hadn’t spent all this time just studying—could he neglect such a massive company and let it collapse?

As Wang Yan increasingly participated in company management and decision-making, his abilities soared—he reached Level 3 Professional in management.

His sales skill also broke through to Level 3 Professional. He now confirmed: this skill depended entirely on sales volume. Experience from major deals differed fundamentally from ordinary transactions.

Long Teng’s growth was astonishing—it now firmly controlled the entire New Territories.

After Long Teng purged the New Territories, gangsters, petty thieves, drug dealers, and other criminals lost their habitat and fled en masse to Kowloon and Hong Kong Island.

With this influx, crime rates skyrocketed. Brawls, riots, robberies, thefts, drug dealing—cases exploded. The police were overwhelmed, running nonstop, heads spinning.

Compared to police in the other two areas, officers working in the New Territories were in a completely different state.

Long Teng’s New Territories enforced a zero-tolerance drug policy and offered cash rewards for tips. While loan-sharking and gambling weren’t banned, you couldn’t go too far. If victims reported to Long Teng, and the case was verified, the perpetrators were eliminated without hesitation—the ringleaders were dumped straight into the sea. Long Teng wasn’t a do-gooder; everything had a price. Those who falsely reported, fabricated problems, or caused trouble for no reason would learn firsthand what a criminal organization meant.

Rules were vital—Long Teng established its bottom line.

As long as you didn’t go too far, Long Teng had no time to meddle in others’ messes.

Major crimes didn’t require police intervention—Long Teng would break their legs and deliver them straight to the station. Police spent their days gossiping or idly playing with cats and dogs. As for the Major Crimes Unit, unless occasional murders or high-tech crimes arose, they might as well disband.

Working as a cop in the New Territories—aside from low pay and no promotion prospects—summed up to two words: comfortable. Compared to the daily hell of Kowloon and Hong Kong Island, the difference needed no explanation.

With growing numbers, Wang Yan had no choice but to enter labor-intensive industries like services and manufacturing. There was no alternative. Previously, underlings’ families were placed in logistics, clothing factories, and shoe factories. Now, things were different—Long Teng’s security force numbered twenty to thirty thousand; their families alone totaled at least eighty to ninety thousand.

This didn’t even count upstream and downstream industries—if included, the number was astronomical.

Hong Kong’s market was limited—how many people could logistics and clothing factories absorb? Wang Yan had to keep expanding labor-intensive industries to accommodate underlings’ families.

He didn’t even know how many companies he’d started—he did everything. Management complexity grew ever greater, so he formed a think tank, hiring outside elites to manage and supervise Long Teng’s various industries.

How could such a massive organization lack talent? Wang Yan had promoted several people—Li Yun remained the nominal leader, but Wang Yan had elevated others to balance power. Such a vast force couldn’t entrust everything to one person—that was foolish.

Wang Yan didn’t have to do this. Long Teng was built by his own hands; underlings and their families remembered only him. Long Teng was essentially built on Wang Yan alone. Without him, it would instantly collapse—this was a matter of personal authority.

He did it because he wanted to hone his skills—to practice control, study balance. This was what’s called “imperial strategy”—an essential skill for any leader.

When Long Teng first seized the New Territories, a group of old bastards teamed up to suppress him—Jiang Tian-sheng of Hung Hing was the loudest. Wang Yan wasn’t a saint with such broad tolerance. Especially since these bastards blocked his path and not one of them was decent—each of them deserved half an hour of gunfire.

Wang Yan had waited long enough—the New Territories were fully absorbed. His underlings and talents were well-trained; money, the most crucial element in fighting, had never been lacking. Everything was ready—it was time for revenge.

He immediately issued orders: all Long Teng Security personnel ranked Level 10 or higher, report to Long Teng’s newly acquired headquarters building for a meeting.