Chapter 27: Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Timing

After Li Dongling and Gao Peng entered the office building, they found it had become utterly unrecognizable from when Li Dongling had last visited; the previous building had been styled in the 1970s–80s, painted mostly in white and green, but now it was fully renovated to modern office standards.

Upon entering, they saw a reception desk; ahead, the once-separate small offices had been demolished and merged into one large open workspace, with rows of cubicle desks and chairs already arranged inside—each tiny cubicle gave office staff the sense of privacy, enclosure, and independence, a stark contrast to the face-to-face layouts of other companies.

On each independent desk sat potted plants, along with computers, telephones, fax machines, printers, and air conditioners; water dispensers and coffee machines had also been fully equipped.

Seeing Li Dongling’s expression, Gao Peng knew he had almost certainly passed the test: “Brother Li, I specially hired designers from Shanghai to design this place. The rest areas, tea rooms, and smoking zones are still under renovation, but I guarantee that by the time it’s done, Dongling High-Tech’s office will be the best in Pingyang—even in the entire Hanxi!”

Li Dongling glanced at him and nodded with a smile; Gao Peng’s ability to get things done was indeed impressive.

The two walked upstairs; the second floor was still under construction. When they arrived, Li Dongshan was overseeing the work. Seeing Li Dongshan, Gao Peng immediately called out, “Brother Dongshan!”

Upon hearing Li Dongshan’s name, Gao Peng instantly understood his relationship to Li Dongling. He felt no resentment or resistance toward Li Dongshan’s presence—even though Li Dongshan lacked flexibility and experience in many matters, Gao Peng meticulously explained every detail to him.

“Thanks to Gao Peng, things here have gone so smoothly!” Li Dongshan said honestly, showing no intention to take credit.

Gao Peng replied, “I still needed Brother Dongshan’s support—otherwise, I couldn’t have handled all this alone!”

Li Dongling now took a serious look at Gao Peng. The group entered the office prepared for Li Dongling.

The entire office was spacious; Gao Peng had clearly put great effort into it, fully modernized with the old windows removed and part of the wall extended to form a small floor-to-ceiling window.

Seeing Li Dongling sit down, Gao Peng finally relaxed: “Brother Li, here are the property certificates for this building—total price was 143,000 yuan. I also bought several additional plots behind it, spending another 40,000 yuan!”

“The renovation isn’t finished yet, and the combined cost of design and construction won’t be small.”

Beside the property certificates lay a stack of cash. Li Dongling had originally given Gao Peng 200,000 yuan to purchase the two floors and the land behind; yet Gao Peng had refused any personal fee and returned all remaining money to Li Dongling.

Li Dongling pushed the stack of cash back toward Gao Peng: “The fee I promised you is yours. You ran countless errands and leveraged so many connections—you shouldn’t have to pay out of pocket. I’ll need you for more tasks ahead.”

Hearing this, Gao Peng didn’t pretend to refuse. Today, he had simply shown his stance. He grinned and took the stack: “Then I thank you, Brother Li!”

After a moment’s thought, Li Dongling looked at Li Dongshan and Gao Peng and said, “Dongling High-Tech’s next step is to recruit staff and launch operations. If you’re willing, join Dongling High-Tech.”

Li Dongshan had no hesitation—he had come here to help Li Dongling, and whatever Li Dongling needed, he would do without question.

“I’m in.”

Gao Peng didn’t think twice—he decided to take the gamble. Back in Pingyang, he had once relied on his father’s connections to make money, live comfortably, and hang out with his shady friends. But he knew: with only his father’s influence, achieving the big things he dreamed of was pure fantasy. Meeting Li Dongling felt like one of the rarest, perhaps even the only, opportunity of his life.

A single success makes people believe a man can succeed again. The satellite dish project had already proven Li Dongling’s vision and ability. Whether Gao Peng, Zhang Xiao, or others—they all subconsciously believed Li Dongling would succeed again.

After using train cars to trade canned goods for several airplanes and making hundreds of millions in profit, countless people followed Boss Mou, eager to serve him. Boss Shi of the Giant Group was the same. If Li Dongling succeeded once more, Gao Peng, Zhang Xiao, Zhang Ao, Fan Xugang, and others would regard him no differently than Boss Mou’s or Boss Shi’s followers.

Look at how Boss Shi’s followers now claim: in the tech industry, Bill Gates is number one, and only Boss Shi can be number two!

After thinking it over, Li Dongling said to Li Dongshan and Gao Peng: “Brother, you and Gao Peng will join Dongling High-Tech’s Logistics Department. You, Brother, will be Logistics Manager; Gao Peng, Deputy General Manager.”

The Logistics Department held a unique position in any company—seemingly less important than HR, Finance, or Technology, yet it could determine the company’s survival. Procurement fell under Logistics.

In some companies, the procurement department saved massive funds; in others, it acted like a termite, slowly hollowing out the company—even causing certain car brands’ costs to far exceed competitors’, forcing founders to overhaul procurement entirely just to cut losses.

With Li Dongshan and Gao Peng overseeing Logistics, Li Dongling could rest easier. Even if someone tried to exploit the system, they’d dare not act recklessly, let alone commit absurdities so blatant that the entire industry knew before Li Dongling did.

Although Dongling High-Tech’s office wasn’t fully renovated, recruitment had already begun in full swing—from HR to Finance to Technology.

Local newspapers like the Pingyang Daily started publishing ads for Dongling High-Tech’s high-salary hiring. Dongling High-Tech offered salaries over 30% higher than other Pingyang companies for the same positions—but requirements were strict: applicants needed computer literacy and modern office software skills; marketing roles required English or Japanese; technical roles demanded even higher qualifications—and paid even better.

At first, many in Pingyang were tempted by the recruitment ads, but after reading the requirements, some cursed aloud.

People who knew computers and foreign languages were already elite talent. Even in major cities like Pengcheng, Shanghai, or Yanjing, they earned 1,000–2,000 yuan monthly; if hired by foreign firms, they could make 3,000–5,000 yuan with benefits—why stay in a backwater like Pingyang?

Slowly, people began filling the Dongling High-Tech offices. Most of the first hires were graduates of Pingyang University, the city’s only university.

In the past, these graduates were mostly assigned to municipal agencies or state-owned enterprises. But now, SOEs were struggling, wages were low. Many Pingyang University graduates had once planned to move to provincial capitals or elsewhere. But seeing Dongling High-Tech’s salaries—nearly equal to those in provincial capitals—and the office environment, many recent graduates chose to join Dongling High-Tech.

On the second floor, in the room labeled “Chairman Li Dongling’s Office,” Li Dongling was constantly sketching designs. On his desk now lay two highly detailed blueprints.

The satellite dish project was still profitable, but Li Dongling had to plan Dongling High-Tech’s next project. Over the past few days, he had researched extensively and thought deeply.

The hottest project in tech right now was the pager—literally scorching hot. Xiaobawang learning machines and the newly emerged VCDs were rising stars, but still nowhere near the pager’s popularity.

The biggest player in China’s telecom industry, the Post and Telecommunications Bureau, had its hottest business in pagers: annual revenue was multiplying several times over. Next year, paging stations would expand to over a thousand, possibly reaching three thousand. The Bodao pager—the “fighter jet of mobile phones”—had already surpassed 20 million yuan in revenue by year-end, thanks to its Chinese-language paging system.

Should Dongling High-Tech enter the pager market? Li Dongling had hesitated long. Everyone knew pagers weren’t a long-term product—otherwise, they wouldn’t have already declined in America, Britain, Europe, and Japan. But for now, they were the most suitable product for China’s telecom landscape.

Yet this glory wouldn’t last long. By next year at the latest, pager manufacturers would launch brutal price wars. Prices would plummet from over 2,000 yuan to 400–500 yuan, then even lower—within a few years, pager profits would be negligible, far below satellite dishes, and the competition would be fierce.

The pager’s replacement by mobile phones was inevitable—but it would take time. Dongling High-Tech entering the mobile phone industry required R&D time, and the telecom infrastructure—cell towers—also needed years to deploy.

During this transition period, Li Dongling needed Dongling High-Tech to launch another product to bridge the gap.

For the next project, Li Dongling planned for Dongling High-Tech to release two products: a digital cordless telephone and a trackball mouse.