Chapter 253: The Explosive Success of Oriental Daily
Central, Charter Road:
The sky was still dim when a pedal-powered tricycle approached a newsstand. The rider shouted, "Old Liu, paper delivery!"
"Coming," replied two figures—an elderly man and a younger one—who stepped out from the booth. "Old Wang, you're early today. It's just past 5 a.m.!"
"There's a big delivery today. A new paper just launched," Old Wang said, glancing at the younger man. "Is that your son?"
"Yeah, bringing him along so he can learn what hard work feels like. He spends too much time daydreaming instead of studying," Old Liu replied. "Big batch of Oriental Daily today?"
As a seasoned newsstand owner, Old Liu already knew some of the behind-the-scenes buzz—especially since this new paper offered direct incentives for sellers.
Old Wang nodded as he got off his bike. "Yup, you've been allocated a hundred copies. Ambitious, huh? Looks like they're distributing twenty to thirty thousand copies across Hong Kong."
"Sounds about right. Come on, let's unload together," Old Liu said, helping with the crates along with his son.
After the delivery, Old Wang pedaled off to the next stand.
Back inside the booth, father and son began arranging the papers.
"How should we set these up?" asked the younger Liu.
"Put a few copies of each title on the display table in front, and replenish from inside as they sell," Old Liu instructed. "Watch how I do it—I base the layout on recent sales figures. The better it sells, the closer to the front it goes."
As he arranged the papers, Young Liu noticed something. "All the color papers are up front. Because they sell better?"
"Not exactly," Old Liu explained. "Color papers give us the highest commissions. That's why they get prime real estate. But if a black-and-white one sells well, it also earns a front-row spot."
"What about this Oriental Daily? It's black-and-white too," Young Liu asked.
"This one's special—it's brand new," said Old Liu. "Its publisher is offering us an extra two cents per copy sold. That's why it gets a good spot."
"Only two cents?" Young Liu muttered.
"You little brat, two cents per copy can add up to a few dollars a day! You think money grows on trees?" Old Liu scolded. "Even shifting one paper's position could earn me an extra dollar. Every bit counts."
"Okay, okay, you're right," the boy nodded. "But what if it sells badly?"
"Then even the extra commission won't help," Old Liu admitted. "But I doubt that'll happen. This paper's backed by Honghua Daily, and their content is top-notch."
"Honghua Daily? You mean the one founded by Yang Wendong, the Post-it King?" Young Liu's eyes lit up. "I admire him so much."
"Well, then read his paper," Old Liu chuckled. "We're all set for now."
"Great!" Young Liu quickly set down the remaining bundles and picked up a copy. The front page screamed: The Youngest Shipping King is Born!
"Shipping king?" Young Liu was immediately intrigued. In Hong Kong, everyone admired shipping tycoons—wealthy and powerful figures who commanded fleets.
Flipping to page two, he blinked in surprise. "The new shipping king is… Yang Wendong?"
"What?" Old Liu walked over and looked for himself. "He's boasting in his own paper? That can't be right. Global-level shipping king?"
"Well… it does say youngest. And it's not wrong. He's about my age," said Young Liu thoughtfully.
"That's true," Old Liu muttered. "Just look at him, then look at yourself."
"And there are lots of tycoons your age too," Young Liu shot back under his breath.
"Get to work. The sun's coming up," Old Liu sighed.
As dawn broke, a young man walked up to the newsstand and began browsing the day's offerings.
"The Youngest Shipping King?" he muttered, reading the headline. He glanced at the top corner. "Oriental Daily? Never heard of it. What kind of paper is this?"
"It's new," Old Liu said cheerfully. "Only thirty cents, and it's got good content."
"Thirty cents? That's cheap," the man said, feeling the paper. It had decent heft.
Most newspapers sold for 30 to 50 cents, with high-end English or color editions going for 60 or 70 cents.
He handed over three dimes without hesitation.
"Thank you," Old Liu said, letting the man pick a copy himself. "This one's actually published by Honghua Daily. Good content."
"Honghua Daily? The one run by Yang Wendong, the Post-it King?" the man asked.
He, like many others in Hong Kong, admired the local business elite—especially someone like Yang Wendong. A self-made man from the shanty towns, who rose to become one of Hong Kong's top tycoons—that was the stuff of legends.
What's more, he never forgot his roots. After making it big, Yang Wendong dedicated himself to creating jobs for shanty-town residents and doing frequent charity work. Naturally, people from the lower class had great respect for him.
"That's right," said Old Liu. "And the article about the shipping king—that's about him. He just bought over twenty cargo ships. In one move, he became one of the new Chinese shipping magnates in Hong Kong."
"Over twenty ships?" the young man was stunned.
A single cargo ship could cost as much as a building in Central. Some supertankers were worth even more.
Owning more than twenty ships was like owning twenty buildings. And here he was, an ordinary worker who couldn't afford a thousand-square-foot flat even after a lifetime of savings. Meanwhile, Yang Wendong was buying properties by the fleet.
"Work hard, young man," Old Liu laughed. "Maybe you'll be the next Yang Wendong."
"Boss, don't kid me," the man said, shaking his head.
"There are chairs over there. If you're not in a rush, go have a seat," Old Liu offered.
"Thanks." The young man took his paper and settled on a nearby bench.
It was still early, so there weren't many customers around. He flipped to page two and began reading the featured article in earnest.
Several minutes passed before he looked up, eyes shining. "Incredible… over twenty 10,000-ton freighters. Even if most of them are second-hand, with his own dry dock, it's still manageable."
The article detailed Yang Wendong's full shipping strategy and advantages: the different types of ships, the dry dock under construction in Kwai Chung, the new maritime academy to train crew, and the massive internal demand from Changxing's other businesses.
The writing was clear and easy to follow. Anyone with basic literacy could understand the gist of Hong Kong's newest shipping company.
"Maritime Academy?" the young man paused and turned the page, spotting a small ad:
Any man under 30 who can read common Chinese characters and basic English is eligible to apply. Training includes swimming, marine weather, ship operations.
Higher-educated individuals may be trained for senior technical or management roles aboard ship.
Salaries range from $500–$1,000 HKD monthly, plus subsidies.
"That's not bad at all," he murmured.
His education wasn't bad. Working as a basic clerk in Central netted him about $300 a month—better than most, but he still lived paycheck to paycheck. At this rate, owning a decent flat in Hong Kong was a pipe dream.
While he couldn't qualify for other positions, this maritime academy might be the exception. After just three to six months of training, he could work at sea and earn a much higher income.
Yes, the job would be tougher than what he was doing now—but if his income could double or even triple, it would all be worth it.
"I'll talk to my family about it tonight," the young man decided inwardly.
At other newsstands across Hong Kong, similar scenes were playing out.
Many people, upon seeing the headline "New Shipping King" at the newsstand, were instantly intrigued. Coupled with the low price, they readily picked up the paper.
Only after reading it did they realize it also included the words "youngest," but even so, it was a major piece of news.
"Mr. Yang Wendong is incredible. He's brilliant in manufacturing, in real estate, and now even in shipping—he's become a shipping king!"
"Yeah, and he's only in his twenties. He's bound to become one of Hong Kong's most powerful tycoons."
"Definitely. He might even reach the level of Ho Tung one day."
"No doubt about it."
"Sigh, if only I could marry him… even as a concubine would be fine."
"Keep dreaming! You're not even good enough to be a maid in his house."
"Hahahaha~~"
Meanwhile, in Admiralty, inside the chairman's office of Golden Mountain Shipping—
After reading the paper in his hand, Dong Haoyun said, "What a bold move—buying 24 ships at once. Changxing Shipping is about to triple in size."
"Yes, father," Dong Jiancheng replied. "Recently, quite a few of our sailors—and even captains—have been poached. It's definitely Changxing Shipping behind it."
"How many have left?" Dong Haoyun frowned. A few here and there wouldn't matter, but if it became a trend, it could have a significant impact.
"Not a massive number yet, but enough to notice," Dong Jiancheng said. "They've been hiring across all of Hong Kong—not just us. Even the British firms aren't spared. I've heard they're even recruiting in Taiwan. They probably don't want to offend any one party."
"He probably doesn't care about offending anyone," Dong Haoyun said with a chuckle. "But it's smart. Not caring doesn't mean you go out of your way to make enemies."
"Exactly. Plus, Yang Wendong partnered with Pao Yue-kong to establish a maritime academy," Dong Jiancheng added. "It's intended to—"
"No need to explain. I know," Dong Haoyun cut him off. "Pao approached me about it once, but I declined. We just hire staff or train a few in-house. Running a whole academy is too much hassle. What, are we going to start a maritime university like other countries?"
Training people to work specific jobs on a ship was one thing. But Pao's goal was to cultivate comprehensive maritime professionals—a task that required significant effort and time.
"I think it's actually a great idea," Dong Jiancheng said. "If it works, Hong Kong will never have a talent shortage in shipping."
"It's not that simple," Dong Haoyun said. "Even if it works, we can always poach their talent. Just like Yang Wendong is poaching ours."
"That's true," Dong Jiancheng admitted.
Poaching staff was legal. Even if there were contractual penalties, it usually came down to paying a fee.
But if someone else's academy was producing talent at scale, you could never poach as many as they could train themselves.
Dong Haoyun looked back down at the newspaper. "Even though Changxing Shipping is still under 500,000 tons, the paper isn't wrong—he's incredibly young, about your age. Built everything from scratch. If he keeps this up, he'll surpass us sooner or later."
Dong Jiancheng thought for a moment. "Dad, even though Yang Wendong has done well in other industries, he relies heavily on banks for his shipping business. This massive ship purchase was made possible through HSBC.
Rumor has it that Sanders from HSBC's credit department will be the next chief executive. His strategy is pro-Chinese and pro-shipping. I think we should also take advantage of this window to expand."
"You're right," Dong Haoyun nodded. "I'll schedule a visit to Mr. Sanders. I'm planning to order a few 50,000- to 100,000-ton oil tankers from Japan. I'll need financing too."
While the HSBC chief executive didn't personally control funds, he was one of the most powerful financial figures in Hong Kong. From an economic perspective, the only entity truly immune to HSBC's power was Jardine Matheson.
Even someone like Ho Tung had to tread carefully.
"Good luck, Dad," Dong Jiancheng said with a smile.
"The new shipping king... that Post-it King really is something else."
"Yeah, wasn't he just called a real estate tycoon before? Now he's a shipping king too?"
"That's called diversification. Look at Jardine—they run hundreds of businesses. Yang Wendong is just getting started."
"You really think Yang Wendong can catch up to Jardine? Their market cap is nearly HK$2 billion."
"Maybe not now. But give it time. Yang Wendong's only been at it for a few years. Jardine's been around for over a hundred."
"None of that matters. Look—he's even recruiting at the maritime academy. As long as you can read and write a bit, you can apply. Even a ship cleaner makes three to four hundred dollars a month."
"Really?"
Yang Wendong's name had once again made the headlines. At this point, his name had practically become a brand of its own—anything associated with him sold out.
He had become a hot topic across Hong Kong.
People admired him. Respected him. Especially because Changxing Industrial gave jobs to so many people.
That evening—
Inside Honghua Tower, Yang Wendong yawned while watching TV.
But the programming on Rediffusion Television was so dull, it was putting him to sleep.
"Sleepy? Want a cup of coffee?" Bai Yushan asked from the side.
"No need. I'm waiting for the Oriental Daily sales numbers. If I drink coffee now, I won't be able to sleep later," Yang Wendong said, shaking his head.
Today was Oriental Daily's launch day. As the boss, he stayed in the office, waiting for the final sales figures.
"You really care about media, huh?" Bai Yushan said with a smile.
"Of course. It doesn't earn much, but it's extremely important," Yang Wendong said. "And it helps other industries—especially real estate and retail."
The Hong Kong market might be small, but real estate was powerful. And for other service sectors, reaching monopoly levels was hugely beneficial.
More importantly, if he could build a foothold here and gain operational experience, he could eventually expand to other markets.
"Mm," Bai Yushan nodded. She understood the logic. Media was hard to run well, but extremely valuable when done right.
Knock knock knock—
The door knocked. Yang Wendong looked up. It was Qin Zhiye.
"Come in," Yang Wendong said.
Qin Zhiye entered. "Mr. Yang Wendong, Miss Bai, I've got the sales numbers for today's Oriental Daily—we sold 26,000 copies."
"Twenty-six thousand?" Yang Wendong repeated. "Wasn't the record for highest daily sales in Hong Kong around 43,000?"
"Yes, and that was just a one-day peak," Qin Zhiye replied with a grin. "For a debut issue, selling 26,000 is already an outstanding performance."
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