Chapter 975: Heading to Hong Kong

Although he had already told Bao about the matter, Tao Tao felt no relief—instead, he grew even more uneasy. Unable to bear it any longer, he decided to go find Wang Yan and confess his mistake.

Unfortunately, Wang Yan was out early and back late every day, and no one knew what he was busy with. It wasn’t until more than half a month later that Tao Tao finally saw Wang Yan.

It was already June, and Shanghai had grown hot. Wang Yan’s door wasn’t closed. Tao Tao peered in cautiously, just as Wang Yan’s gaze swept over him. He instinctively wanted to flee, but forced himself to stay.

“Manager Tao, what are you sneaking around for? Come in and sit.”

Tao Tao chuckled. Clutching his briefcase and holding his Dageda like a trophy, he exclaimed dramatically, “Oh my, I heard from Teacher Ge that you, Boss Wang, had changed your look—completely transformed!”

By now, the tailor had already made two suits, but only one pair of shoes. This was because there were still few people with high-end custom needs; most wealthy individuals hadn’t reached this level yet. Naturally, Wang Yan’s custom clothes and shoes were made faster—he’d visited several times, and only yesterday had he picked them up.

Now he wore a loose shirt tucked neatly into well-fitted pants, his leather shoes gleaming with polish. Though still dressed similarly as before, the fit was tighter, his hairstyle changed, and he looked altogether more spirited.

“You’re just as exaggerated as Teacher Ge,” Wang Yan laughed, shaking his head. He tossed Tao Tao a cigarette, lit one for himself, and asked, “What brings you here?”

“Uh… Boss Wang, I don’t even know your Dageda number—how am I supposed to contact you later?”

“Hand me your phonebook. I’ll write it down for you.”

“Oh, alright.”

Tao Tao frantically pulled out the small notebook Bao had given him. Wang Yan took a pen from the desk’s pen holder and scribbled his name and number swiftly.

“You’ve got to save my number too.”

Wang Yan smiled and picked up a phonebook from beside him. “I’ve already got it all recorded.”

“Oh.”

Tao Tao didn’t know what else to say. Under Wang Yan’s probing gaze, he gritted his teeth and blurted out, “Boss Wang, I’m sorry—I told Bao about what happened before. Oh my, Boss Wang, I didn’t mean to! You don’t know—I’ve been having nightmares every night…”

“Bao keeps threatening me with peeing his pants. If I don’t tell him, he’ll spread it everywhere—how am I supposed to live after that? Boss Wang, I’m not disloyal—I just can’t keep secrets. You’ve got to believe me.”

Wang Yan chuckled and shook his head. “Is that all?”

“That’s all!” Tao Tao snapped to attention. “You’re not mad at me, Boss Wang?”

“You’re not even embarrassed you peed your pants—what can I say? Fine. It’s gotten cloudy outside in just this short time—rain’s coming hard. Go home now.”

“Oh my, Boss Wang, you don’t know—when I first told Bao, I felt so light. But when I got home, my conscience bit me—I couldn’t sleep. Even sleeping with Fangmei felt dull. She even suspected I had someone else and wanted to drag me to the hospital. Now? I finally feel at ease.”

Wang Yan waved him off. “Enough. It’s no big deal. Go on, be careful.”

“Boss Wang, you’re the truest friend. I’m off—see you!” Tao Tao gave Wang Yan a dopey grin and vanished like a rabbit.

The people over at Yedongjing were all big-mouthed, and Wang Yan knew perfectly well Tao Tao couldn’t keep a secret. In fact, from the moment he started bringing Tao Tao along, he’d already anticipated Tao Tao would brag about it—he’d planned it all along to tease Du Honggen and Lu Meilin. But later, Du Honggen made a fuss over a trivial matter, so Wang Yan decided not to press further.

Even if Tao Tao did talk, nothing serious would happen. At worst, he’d have to explain things to the police—no one would seize the car. Because if you’re going to bully someone, bully them thoroughly. Even if Du Honggen got arrested, that car was still his compensation to Wang Yan. If he dared say more, Wang Yan wouldn’t even be driving now—this kid would be lying in bed waiting to die.

Tao Tao telling Bao was something Wang Yan had expected. Tao Tao’s circle ended with Bao. Even if you gave him eight more guts, he wouldn’t dare say anything further. Bao himself wasn’t one to gossip—he wouldn’t tell anyone else. At most, he’d mention it to Ye Shu, and once it reached Ye Shu, it would truly stop spreading. Only a handful of people knew.

Wang Yan had used Tao Tao’s mouth to give these characters a hardened bandit’s aura.

A light drizzle pattered against the windowsill, splashing onto Wang Yan’s arm. He made no hurried move to close the window, leaning back comfortably, chin propped up, gazing out at the rain…

Miss Wang closed her umbrella. Her small leather shoes were muddy from rain and road, her white socks stained. As soon as she stepped inside, she stomped her feet hard, hoping to shake off the dirt.

“Miss Wang, same as always?” the pai gu nian gao owner greeted with a smile.

“Add another portion of salted pork ribs.”

Miss Wang placed her umbrella by the door to drip dry, then flashed a bright smile. “Boss Wang’s here too? You changed your hairstyle? Your suit and shoes fit perfectly—are they custom-made? You look like a whole new person—I didn’t even recognize you at first.”

“Didn’t I tell you before? Bao Zong recommended me a tailor. Not bad, right?”

“Not bad? It’s excellent!” Miss Wang gave a thumbs-up, sitting beside Wang Yan. “It’s raining—why did you come all the way from Jinxian Road?”

“Aren’t you here too?”

“I love eating. If I crave it today, I’ll come even if it’s raining knives. What’s your reason? Judging by how you look now, you’re not delivering goods anymore, right?”

“You’re wrong. I came today precisely to deliver goods. It’s raining—why make someone pedal a tricycle in this weather while I sit comfortably at home? So I drove out to deliver. Since I was already here, and it was mealtime, I figured I’d grab some pai gu nian gao. This is my second time here—and I keep running into you. What a coincidence.”

“It really is a coincidence.”

Miss Wang smiled, then asked, “What are you mainly doing now?”

“Clothing.”

“Clothing? Didn’t you say you’d expand into seasonings—soy sauce, vinegar?”

“I already told you—I’m going into clothing,” Wang Yan said, eating as he spoke. “I haven’t started yet. I just bought land in Pudong and am now building a factory, contacting machinery too.”

“I already told you before—go check out No. 27. Have you been?”

Wang Yan hadn’t gone, but he’d walked past it once. He nodded. “I’ve seen it.”

“You’ve seen it and you’re still going into clothing? Oh my, you’re impossible to reason with. Dozens or hundreds of workers, each earning three hundred a month—that’s thirty thousand. Machinery? Do you need sewing machines? Cutting tables? Ironing boards? Those are cheap. Then there’s overlocking, fusing interlinings, attaching buttons, edge stitching, triple-stitching, quadruple-stitching—so many machines, all kinds of junk. Without a million or so, you can’t even run it.”

Without full equipment, production is slow, output low, and you lose money. With full equipment, you still need sales channels. If you make a pile of clothes and have nowhere to sell them, you can’t just set up street stalls. If you do that, even if you build a factory, you’ll never grow. Clothing needs branding, needs premium pricing. If you make only a few yuan profit per garment, aren’t you just bankrupting yourself?”

“You know Bao Zong does foreign trade—but do you know how he does it? He doesn’t own a factory. He didn’t invest a cent. He has a cousin in Hong Kong. In 1988, his first foreign order came from that cousin. He found Xiao Ningbo—you know Xiao Ningbo? That year, because his machines were old, needles broke off inside the clothes, and the foreigners refused the order.”

“Back then, Bao Zong spent all day at No. 27 trying to meet my master, Jin Hua, head of the clothing department. But his orders were small, and he was unknown—he couldn’t get in. So he just kept pestering me. Then he met Xiao Ningbo. On the bridge over Suzhou River, they nearly got crushed by a truck… Then they teamed up and pulled off that order.”

“Now you understand? Bao Zong makes his profit from commissions. He still finds orders on the outside—that’s how he built it. Otherwise, with our limited import-export quotas, how could he have done it?”

“What about you? You want to build a factory yourself, but you’ve got nothing. How are you going to do it? I advise you—turn that factory into a seasoning plant. Food comes first in ‘clothing, food, shelter, transport’—isn’t it said ‘the people’s livelihood depends on food’? Do well in that, distribute nationwide—you’ll make big money too.”

Though blunt, Miss Wang spoke sincerely. Perhaps because she saw him as Bao Zong’s friend, or perhaps because he’d come only twice—and yet met her both times. She warned Wang Yan not to foolishly enter the clothing business.

“Thank you, Miss Wang.”

Wang Yan still wore his cheerful smile. “But man’s effort determines success—you’ve got to try. Foreign clothes come in selling for hundreds or thousands; ours sell for dozens at most. All the money goes to foreigners—that’s not right. I came to Shanghai with nothing. Even if I lose everything, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m just shouting slogans to pump myself up. But if I can’t build a brand or create premium pricing, I’ll still make counterfeit clothes and shoes. I don’t have to drink Maotai, but the workers eating with me can’t lose their jobs, right?”

“That’s reality. Even if you do it, it’s not a big deal—providing jobs for dozens or hundreds is already good. You’re surprisingly honest.”

“You’ve discovered my most unremarkable strength.”

“Oh my, so you’ve got more strengths? Tell me some!”

“Talking about them is boring—you’ve got to discover them yourself. Otherwise, I’d be like the old woman selling melons, bragging about her own.” Wang Yan grinned, raising an eyebrow.

Miss Wang pursed her lips. “What kind of clothes are you planning to make?”

“Start with sportswear—like Nike.”

“What’s the price?”

“Much cheaper, of course.”

Miss Wang shook her head. “The working class can’t afford it; those who can afford it won’t want it.”

“I’ll try. Take it slow—I’m not in a hurry.” Wang Yan asked, “Do you know any fashion designers or experienced tailors? Introduce me?”

“No one. Everyone with skills is already well-off now.”

“Then I’ll find another way.”

“If you can, find someone to invest—foreigners or Hong Kong businessmen. I’ve heard there are big incentives and policy support. I don’t know the details—do your own research.”

“Alright, I understand,” Wang Yan nodded with a smile.

They ate, drank, and chatted happily. Outside, people hurried past; dim car lights pierced the rain, tracing slanted streaks. Through the pai gu nian gao window, the shadow of Wang Yan and Miss Wang laughing over their meal flickered in and out with passing lights.

The rain outside hadn’t stopped—it seemed to be growing heavier.

“I’ll drive you home.”

“No—”

Before Miss Wang could finish, Wang Yan dashed into the rain, opened the door of a parked Santana, and moments later reversed the car back to the restaurant.

If this were a power window, Wang Yan might have rolled it down and waved. But unfortunately, it was hand-cranked. So he just parked at the restaurant’s entrance and honked twice.

Miss Wang glanced around, then grabbed her umbrella and ran over, quickly opening the door and sliding into the car.

“I was wondering—how come you said you’d drive me home, then disappeared?”

“When you came in, you said I drove here to deliver goods. Where do you live?”

Miss Wang gave her address. Wang Yan started the car.

“Is this your new car?”

“Isn’t that obvious? Who else would give me a ride?”

“I wish I had a car too—but my salary’s only a few hundred a month. Just a dream.”

“That’s because you’re too upright. If you just opened your mouth a little, what car couldn’t you get?”

“If I dared, I’d be arrested in days,” Miss Wang snapped.

“Then I think you should keep your distance from Bao Zong.”

“Why? You think I took his money? I tell you—I report everything he gives me, then buy it myself. Besides, I have to work, right? If I get familiar with someone, can’t I still do my job? Where’s the logic in that?”

“I mean keep clear boundaries. You know you’re clean—but others don’t. You think they should know, but they pretend not to. What can you do?”

“You sound just like Ye Shu—he says the same thing to me. It’s so annoying!”

“I bet he also says, ‘I’m only looking out for your best interest.’”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’m only looking out for your best interest,” Wang Yan said, turning his head and raising an eyebrow at her.

“So annoying!”

Wang Yan laughed, stopped teasing her, and chatted idly all the way until he dropped her off.

“It’s raining hard—drive slowly.”

“Got it. See you.”

“See you.”

Wang Yan honked again and drove off.

He turned up the cassette music, rolled down the windows slightly, lit a Huazhi cigarette, and drove calmly through Shanghai’s rainy night. Music played inside; lights outside pierced the rain; water pounded the roof; a few drops trickled through the window, bringing coolness—it felt wonderful.

He hadn’t lied to Miss Wang. The land in Pudong was worthless—he bought a huge stretch. Though policies had already been announced to develop Pudong, revitalize Shanghai, serve the nation, and face the world, the specific details hadn’t been released. His land was far out, and since he planned to build a clothing factory to provide local jobs, acquiring it was easy. Of course, land couldn’t be bought—he leased it, just for a very long term.

He was just playing around, no real plan. If anything, it was meeting Miss Wang, plus thinking about Bao Zong’s endless middleman schemes, that made him suddenly decide to try clothing.

On the other hand, he also had future wealth in mind. Naturally—the Big Brother network would collapse. He knew this business inside out. Big Brother had helped him immensely—he was a true ally on his path. When the time came, daily necessities would be hard currency. He’d just be a happy secondhand dealer—making money, acquiring equipment, and preparing to launch high-tech industries later.

After the rain cleared, Wang Yan finished his practice and passed by Li’s Shengjian near his residence, where he saw Teacher Ge sitting alone at a table, eating and drinking.

“Old Li, three tea eggs, a large bowl of small wontons, one steamer of shengjian, one steamer of soup dumplings. Charge it to Teacher Ge’s tab.”

“Oh my, Little Northeast, you’re such a big boss now and still trying to cheat me?” Teacher Ge spun around sharply. “You shouldn’t do that.”

Wang Yan didn’t respond at all, sitting down opposite Teacher Ge.

Teacher Ge sighed and asked, “What’ve you been busy with lately? You’re out early and back late—I never see you.”

“Of course I’m busy getting rich.”

“Oh my, you’re still busy? You’ve handed everything over to Jin Bao’s mom—she’s working herself to death, neglecting the kid, so I have to take care of him. You do nothing, yet earn tens of thousands every month. What more are you trying to get rich for? I tell you, people have luck. Be careful—you’ll work it all away and end up with nothing to eat.”

Wang Yan waved his hand. “I’m planning to open a clothing factory and make clothes.”

“Need a model? I’ll try them on for you.”

“Who’d have thought an old guy like you would even say ‘model’? Now you’re getting shameless. I’ll give you two outfits once they’re done.”

Teacher Ge, now thoroughly familiar, didn’t mind at all—even took a bit of pride—but couldn’t help urging, “Have you thought this through? Clothes are easy to make, but hard to sell. You’ll need to hire many people, rent a factory, buy machines—it’ll cost too much.”

“Look, I’ve told you this before—where do I have capital? The capital I have now? I earned it bit by bit.”

“You’re being modest. Bit by bit? You sell something that costs seventy-five cents for ten yuan.”

Wang Yan shook his head with amusement and didn’t reply. Otherwise, back-and-forth banter would ruin his meal.

Seeing Wang Yan ignore him, Teacher Ge, unable to hold back his chatter, found another topic: “Little Northeast, why don’t you talk some sense into Jin Bao’s mom? She can’t keep going like this.”

“Why not?”

“She works from dawn till dusk, wears out her health, and neglects the child—it’s not right.”

“Didn’t she use to work like that before? Did she ever take care of the child back then?” Wang Yan smiled. “Before, she made less than three hundred a month. Now she makes three hundred a day. Little Fatboy eats braised fish for dinner and meat for lunch—his diet’s improved a thousandfold. He’s got a whole room full of foreign toys. What’s wrong with that? If she doesn’t make three hundred a day, will you make up the difference?”

Teacher Ge shook his head repeatedly. “I’m just saying—it’s truly hard for her to raise the child alone.”

“So you don’t want to help watch Little Fatboy anymore?”

“No, no, I didn’t say that. Jin Bao’s mom treats me wonderfully now. Besides, I have no one to keep me company, and Jin Bao’s so lively—it’s nice. I just worry she’s too tired.”

“I know your heart’s in the right place,” Wang Yan nodded with a smile, thanked the owner, swallowed a shengjian whole, and peeled an egg while speaking. “Jin Bao’s mom told me—she wants to outsource the seasoning prep, hire two people, pay each five thousand a month. She’ll go find land to build a factory. Salt, MSG, soy sauce, vinegar, dark soy, oyster sauce, thirteen-spice blend, oil—all these ingredients need to be made in-house to expand the product line.”

“Do you think she doesn’t know how tired she is? She just never trusted anyone enough to reveal the recipe. Now she’s letting go—and wants to scale up fast. When that happens, I’ll give her more shares so she doesn’t work for nothing. If it succeeds, she’ll become a big boss.”

“Your heart’s good. Mine? I can only talk.”

“Still being modest.”

…

Many things Teacher Ge learned meant everyone learned them. He claimed secrecy, but couldn’t resist going home and telling his late wife’s photo that his “secret” was all lies. In that way, perhaps Teacher Ge was quite genuine.

Ten days later, when Wang Yan once again returned late at night, dressed in loose shorts, a half-sleeve shirt, and slippers, arriving at Yedongjing, he met the curious stares of Tao Tao, Lingzi, Linghong, and Bao himself.

Tao Tao said, “Boss Wang, Teacher Ge says you’re opening a clothing factory?”

“If Teacher Ge said it, why ask me?” Wang Yan shook his head. “Bao Zong should know too—why so curious? I met Miss Wang while delivering goods on Yun Nan Road, had a meal at Paigu Niangao, and talked to her about it. Haven’t you seen her lately?”

“She told me. She ate here two days ago,” Bao laughed. “I just don’t get why you’re getting into clothing. Are you really doing it because you saw me in clothing export and got inspired?”

“Not at all. Just diversifying. Jin Bao’s mom’s finally woken up—she wants to expand the barbecue seasoning business, and you all know about the factory. So I’m selling clothes on the side—won’t make big money, but small profits should be fine. After all, how long can my seasoning recipe stay secret? It won’t always be this profitable.”

“Honestly, I just don’t have enough capital. Otherwise, I’d say semiconductors are a great industry—get it right, you get rich beyond measure. That’s real high-tech. The premium on high-tech is the highest. Many things we don’t have? They’re sold at sky-high prices—buy it or don’t. If I could pull it off and surpass the foreigners? That’d be incredible.”

Only Bao took a moment to grasp the gist; the others had no idea what semiconductors were. But clearly, they didn’t care.

Lingzi asked, “So what’ve you been busy with lately?”

“To build a factory, you need land and equipment. I need two factories—one for shoes and clothing, one for seasonings—different machines. Jin Bao’s mom has ambition, but she can’t handle it alone, so I’m running all over. Finding land in Pudong, organizing workers to build the factory, buying outdated equipment from other factories, comparing prices, constant communication.”

“The seasoning factory’s easier—my barbecue seasoning sells well, and future soy sauce, vinegar, etc., will sell too, bundled sales—they’ll support my business. But the clothing factory? I have no sales channels. So I plan direct sales—which means I need stores. So I bought a big shop on Nan Ning Road, and I have to manage the renovation myself. I’m running all over, stretched too thin.”

Bao asked, “You don’t have that much money, do you?”

“I’ll take a loan. My seasoning recipe is tightly guarded—banks are willing to lend. Besides, I’ve got confidence—I heard the market’s good, and vacuum tubes have doubled in price?”

“Two hundred thirty-eight. Your two hundred thousand has more than quadrupled.”

“See? That’s stable.”

“My point is, don’t go too big, Boss Wang. Stock prices are unpredictable. One misstep, and you’re ruined.”

“Teacher Ge told me about luck—he warned me not to overdo it, or I’d lose it all. But I think I’m riding a wave of fortune. In just four months, I’ve gone from nothing to someone people recognize. I should push harder. Still, thanks, Bao Zong—no friend would tell me this.”

“Honest advice is bitter. I’m glad you don’t resent me.”

“Boss Wang’s got great character,” Tao Tao said. “If you’re too busy, you can ask me for help.”

“Stick to selling seafood,” Linghong cut in mercilessly. “You’d only make things worse.”

“Why can’t I help?”

“What can you do? You don’t understand machines, and you’re lazy. Oh my, I didn’t see you lift a finger during renovation—just saw you giving orders.”

“Then why didn’t you say so then?” Tao Tao snapped, voice rising. “Didn’t I do my part?”

“Are you a child? Say one thing, do one thing? I wanted to say something then, but I didn’t know you well—would you have had the nerve?”

“Then…” Tao Tao stammered, unable to finish, then spotted Teacher Ge happily sipping Maotai. “Then why don’t you say that about Teacher Ge? He was giving orders too!”

“Oh my, Tao Tao, how can you say that? I swept the floor plenty! What help could I give with renovation? I’d fall if I climbed up, and I couldn’t carry heavy things. Besides, I lowered Linghong’s rent.”

Innocent Teacher Ge had to resort to his simple, unadorned defense.

“Exactly. And Teacher Ge never said he’d help Boss Wang,” Linghong pressed on.

Tao Tao, of course, refused to back down, neck stiffening to fight back.

At that moment, Lingzi tapped her chopsticks against her bowl, looking disgusted: “We’re eating—can’t you just eat? Knowing you two is the worst luck of my life. All you do is argue—endless noise.”

Tao Tao and Linghong glared at each other, then sullenly picked up their bowls to eat.

Teacher Ge whispered weakly, “Lingzi, I didn’t argue today.”

“Didn’t argue yesterday? The day before? When has that old guy ever been absent? Just eat!”

Bao stifled a laugh and raised his cup to toast Wang Yan, who was watching the scene.

Lingzi, sensing the mood had soured, turned to Wang Yan: “Boss Wang, Miss Wang mentioned here that at Paigu Niangao, she said you should seek foreign investment—it brings policy benefits and lowers taxes. Did you look into it?”

“No,” Wang Yan ate his food. “I don’t know any foreigners or Hong Kong investors. Honestly, my seasoning factory doesn’t need investment. As long as the recipe stays secret, I’ll keep making money. Once other products launch, the barbecue seasoning won’t even matter—I won’t lack money or sales.”

“As for the clothing factory—what tech is there in making clothes? Real tech is upstream—in textiles, synthetic fibers. I’m a small factory, a new brand. I come to you and say, ‘I want to make clothes, become a world brand—will you invest?’ Would you?”

“Of course not,” Linghong replied instantly. “That’s money down the drain.”

“See? Even you, my friend, don’t believe I can make money.”

Bao thought a moment. “You could try manufacturing for established brands—but it’s hard. Too many bigger factories already.”

“Better to counterfeit. Better yet, sell your own—prices are about the same anyway,” Wang Yan said. “But I do plan to go to Hong Kong.”

“You don’t want investment—why go to Hong Kong?”

“To make money,” Wang Yan said. “I’ll sell my barbecue seasoning there, look for other opportunities, find a partner, register a company, then use it to invest back in my clothing and seasoning factories—turning them into foreign capital. All mine, inside and out. Lower taxes, more loans, policy benefits—very worthwhile.”

…

While others’ minds spun, Bao chuckled. “Boss Wang, you’ve got real ideas. When are you leaving?”

“After I sort things out here in the next couple days.”

“How long will you be gone?” Teacher Ge asked.

“Two or three months? Hard to say—depends on circumstances. But I’ll be back by September—we already planned to eat together.”

“Boss Wang, bring back some local specialties when you return.”

“Yes, yes—bring cosmetics, luxury goods. They’re cheap over there.”

The topic veered off instantly, turning to Hong Kong and what Wang Yan should bring back—each speaking up, and soon they were arguing again…