Chapter 108: Double Blessings Arrive
"That's good to hear," Liao Liewen said with a smile. "Right now, all the major banks in Hong Kong—whether British- or Chinese-funded—are working with many factories, as well as shipping and trading companies.
But what we're most optimistic about is the real estate industry. Mr. Yang, once your business grows and you've got capital in hand—or if you develop an interest in investing in real estate—there's even more room for us to collaborate."
"No problem," Yang Wendong nodded casually. He wasn't planning to say too much—just giving the bank a bit of hope.
Liao continued, "In any case, it's been a pleasure meeting you today. I hope we'll have more opportunities to work together in the future."
"Likewise," Yang replied with a polite smile.
After that, Yang gave Liao a tour of his factory. In truth, he already knew that building his own "super factory" would absolutely require additional bank financing. Even with $500,000 from 3M, it might not be enough—because construction is only part of the cost.
And then there was the glue factory project. The more capital he had, the better.
As for dealing with his partner bank, of course he wouldn't share the core secrets. But details about the company's growth, plans, and future outlook? Those he had to explain—maybe even exaggerate a little. After all, no one would lend to you if they didn't see potential.
That said, Changxing Industrial didn't have much to hide. Its strength was its patented inventions—everything else was just supporting infrastructure.
That afternoon, Yang naturally treated Liao to a modest lunch. They even shared a bit of liquor—an essential part of business etiquette in this era, still prevalent even 70 years later.
After lunch, Liao took his leave and drove his Benz back toward Hong Kong Island. Yang, mindful of his safety, had his bodyguard do the driving—this era had no concept of DUI laws, but he still valued his life too much to risk it.
Later in the afternoon, Liao returned to the Liu Chong Hing Bank headquarters. After freshening up to get rid of the smell of alcohol, he made his way to the top floor to see his father.
Chairman Liao Baoshan was examining an ancient Chinese ding-shaped artifact when his son arrived.
"Ah Ying just delivered this. Says it's from the Song Dynasty. Take a look," Baoshan said with a smile.
"Dad, if you like antiques, buying a few is fine," Liewen replied as he took the piece. "But buying too many… doesn't that seem a bit much?"
Baoshan chuckled. "In chaotic times, gold is king. In prosperous times, antiques are. There's wisdom in that.
It's not just about personal taste—it's also an investment. Plenty of Hong Kong tycoons hoard antiques. Their thinking is just like mine."
"Can antiques even compare to Hong Kong real estate?" Liewen asked rhetorically.
"Maybe they can, maybe they can't. It's hard to say," Baoshan mused, stretching his arms. "Antiques go up in value because they're finite. Even if someone finds a giant tomb, those treasures won't go on the market—so scarcity is preserved.
Land, on the other hand, is the opposite. It's easy to increase supply—just release more plots. But the government deliberately restricts land sales, which also keeps land scarce."
"In essence, they're the same," Liewen nodded. Having been active in Hong Kong's business world for a few years, he understood the fundamentals.
"But real estate is far more complex than antiques," Baoshan laughed. "By the way, did you meet Yang Wendong?"
"Yes, I did," Liewen said. "He's a fascinating guy. Definitely more than just the inventor of a couple of products."
Baoshan perked up. "Oh? In what way?"
"He's a great talker—knowledgeable, confident in his vision, and sharp in conversation. Even a bit witty," Liewen replied thoughtfully. "We only chatted for half an hour and had a meal together, but it felt surprisingly natural being around him."
"That's the highest level in business," Baoshan said, slowly rolling two walnut shells in his hand. "Most people who can pull that off are seasoned veterans. For someone so young to have that kind of charisma—it's impressive."
"Maybe it's just talent," Liewen speculated.
Baoshan squinted at him. "You had a drink, didn't you? How much did you two have?"
"Not much. About half a bottle of baijiu each," Liewen answered.
Baoshan nodded. "How a man handles himself after drinking says a lot about his personality and self-control.
In Chinese business circles, we often drink not just as a formality—but to test someone's character.
If a person can stay composed and disciplined even after drinking, then he's someone worth building connections with."
"Yeah," Liewen admitted. "After a few drinks, I almost blurted out some things I shouldn't have. It took a lot of willpower to keep myself in check."
"That's normal," Baoshan said. "But whether you can control yourself is the key. It's something you'll need to train constantly.
Eventually, you'll inherit the bank. You'll be working with all kinds of business elites. Being able to maintain your composure when tipsy is essential."
"Dad… even at our level, do we really have to drink so much?" Liewen asked, puzzled.
Baoshan chuckled. "Usually, no. But in many situations, there's always some drinking involved.
You won't get drunk, but you'll be buzzed. And when that happens, you're at your weakest. That's when people—friends, competitors, journalists—will ask you questions.
Some are trying to dig for business secrets. Others just want a scoop for the next big headline."
"These people are all very shrewd. Forget being drunk—even completely sober, you can still get led into a trap without even realizing it," Liao Baoshan said calmly.
"That's true," Liao Liewen nodded. His experience in the business world was still limited, and he'd always been under his father's wing. He hadn't encountered those situations yet.
But he'd seen enough aggressive media interviews on TV—some questions were so sharp that even seasoned political and business figures got tripped up despite being fully alert.
"You still have a lot to learn," Baoshan sighed. "The business world is full of hungry wolves. Now, tell me everything you discussed with Yang Wendong today."
"Alright, here's how it went…" Liewen proceeded to recount his entire conversation with Yang in detail.
After listening quietly, Baoshan opened a drawer beside him and took out a Post-it note. Holding it in front of his eyes, he muttered, "Is this little thing really such a massive market?"
"It is," Liewen said seriously. "We always thought Post-its would sell well, but until you use them yourself, it's hard to understand just how useful they are.
After I got back from Changxing Industrial, I asked several of our staff—they all loved using them. Some even go through a 100-sheet pad in less than a month and are already requesting refills.
I checked: just within our headquarters of over 300 employees, we've already ordered about 1,000 pads in the past few months. We still have some in stock, but procurement is preparing to place another order."
Baoshan mumbled, "If even one person uses one pad every three months, how many office workers are there globally?"
Seeing his father's stunned expression, Liewen added, "A hundred million would be a conservative estimate. And we're talking about office supplies—just like ballpoint pens, they're easy to lose.
The market for Post-its could be virtually infinite."
"Amazing," Baoshan said with a smile. "Who would've thought Hong Kong would produce someone like him? Now that he's partnered with a global giant like 3M, his future is limitless. We must continue to work with him."
"I've already planned for that," Liewen nodded. "Yang Wendong holds the patent. As long as he leverages it well, he'll never lack funding from an industrial perspective.
Right now, he needs financing because he's expanding so quickly. But once that's done, he probably won't need banks at all.
I asked him about real estate too—he clearly has interest, but he knows that for now, Post-its are more important. Once he's done with industrial expansion, he'll definitely move into property."
"Excellent work," Baoshan praised. "Real estate is a bottomless pit when it comes to capital. If we can keep cooperating with him long-term, that's a big win for the bank."
"Yes, that's what I'm thinking too," Liewen said. "From what I've gathered, he might need HK$3–5 million to fully expand his factory. I suspect he's also planning to stock up on land."
"That's even better," Baoshan said with a laugh. "Of course we'll support him fully. You can even offer him a lower interest rate than other banks. Long-term relationships matter more."
"Looks like you're really keen on securing him," Liewen chuckled. As a bank known for taking on high-risk deals, offering lower interest was rare. Clearly, this was about strategic positioning.
Baoshan nodded. "A rare talent like this—of course we need to seize the opportunity.
Sure, we're not short of clients. But clients who are large-scale, stable, and low-risk? They're incredibly valuable. They significantly lower our operating costs."
"Understood," Liewen nodded. Then he asked, "Dad, we've already diverted quite a bit of depositor capital into real estate. Isn't that a bit risky?"
"Don't be afraid. To run a bank well, you need to understand real estate too," Baoshan said sharply. This wasn't the first time he'd heard that concern.
"Yes, sir." Seeing his father's expression, Liewen stopped himself from continuing.
The way Liu Chong Hing Bank was using depositor funds to speculate on land and property already went against conventional banking principles.
Hong Kong's colonial government was proud of its "free market" policies and rarely intervened. Even its banking laws were lax. But as a graduate of the London School of Economics, Liewen knew that this kind of behavior, if mismanaged, could lead to disaster.
Still, in the Liu family, even the UK-educated eldest son couldn't interfere with the business empire built by Baoshan. It wasn't something he had the power to change.
Being the son of a tycoon… escaping the shadow of a powerful father was not easy.
Meanwhile, Yang Wendong and Wei Zetao were still deep in discussions about the new factory.
In the end, they finalized a target site: a 350,000-square-foot parcel near the coast but a short distance from the port. This was land the colonial government was planning to release for industrial use. Most Hong Kong businesses were too small to need so much space—this land had remained untouched.
"Mr. Yang, the land itself isn't expensive," Wei said, "but the leveling and preparation work won't be cheap."
"No problem," Yang shrugged. "We're not going to use the whole thing at once anyway. We'll develop it in phases."
"Plus, didn't Liu Chong Hing just send someone who clearly wants to cooperate with us? We can just borrow the rest."
Wei nodded and asked, "Are we putting all the Post-it and glue trap production on this new site?"
"That's the plan. But it'll be incremental—we'll move new capacity over there," Yang replied. "Our current two factories stay. Down the road, we can call them satellite facilities."
Scaling up too fast made it impossible to just move everything to a bigger location. Splitting into multiple sites was more practical—especially for simple products like glue traps.
"No problem," Wei smiled. Then he added, "Mr. Yang, resolving the production capacity issue is already great news. But there's one more bit of good news."
"What is it?" Yang asked.
Wei grinned. "The houses you bought in Yifu Garden are almost fully renovated. You'll be able to move in soon. Truly a double blessing."
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 20 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/johanssen10