[Work together, you say?]
"Yes. I don't know why you're protecting Chunha Trading, but they generated 100 million yuan in sales in just one week. That's over 5 billion yuan a year."
Chen Fei desperately tried to convince Chairman Zhao Yang, thinking he was unaware of the situation.
"That's just what he admitted to, it could be much higher. Are you going to let those arrogant Koreans make a fortune in China?"
But Chairman Zhao Yang just said indifferently,
[5 billion yuan a year, huh.]
"Yes! And that's the minimum. It'll be too late once they establish themselves. We need to act before they take root…"
Chairman Zhao Yang interrupted him.
[Chairman Chen, do you think I don't know what you know?]
Chen Fei was startled.
"What?"
[How much net profit do you think they're making from 5 billion yuan in sales?]
Chen Fei thought for a moment.
"With their new technology and monopoly, they must be making at least double the profit. Their annual net profit should be at least 2.5 billion yuan."
Chairman Zhao Yang chuckled.
[That's right. It has to be at least that much for them to afford the interest payments. Chairman Chen, I'm making 1.8 billion yuan a year in interest alone. Why would I share 2.5 billion yuan with you?]
"What do you mean?"
[Xinhua Investment has made a long-term investment of 1 billion yuan in Chunha Trading. The interest rate is 15% per month.]
Chen Fei's eyes widened.
"What? You invested 1 billion yuan? In a company that's only been in China for a few months? What makes you trust them so much…"
[That's our business. Anyway, the annual interest on 1 billion yuan is 1.8 billion yuan. If we split their 2.5 billion yuan net profit, we only get 1.25 billion yuan each. Even if their profit is higher, there's a difference between passively receiving interest payments and actively managing a company.]
Chairman Zhao Yang continued, seeing Chen Fei speechless,
[Chairman Chen, I don't think you can do anything to them, but I'm warning you just in case. Don't mess with them. This is a warning.]
***
With the Hong Kong route open and Chairman Zhao Yang's connections providing protection, the business grew at an incredible pace.
As the volume of restored IC boards flowing into Shenzhen from all over the world increased, so did our sales. We generated 50 billion won in the first week of smuggling, and in just one month, our accumulated sales exceeded 300 billion won.
And the amazing thing was that our net profit was 250 billion won.
"I wish we could keep earning like this forever."
But it was just wishful thinking.
Our sales would continue to grow at this rate for a while, but once the Chinese figured out the restored IC chip technology, the competition would intensify, and the profit margin would decrease.
The price of restored IC boards in China had already started creeping up.
It meant someone else was buying them.
"We still have some leeway, but we need to start preparing."
The word had already spread in Shenzhen that you could buy all sorts of IC chips at Chunha Trading for cheap.
We were building up our inventory and planned to open a large store in Shenzhen soon, separating production and sales.
We would start selling and buying restored IC chips at the store and expand into distribution. But there was one problem.
"We're short on people."
I already had trouble trusting people and managing employees in Korea, and it was even worse in China.
I was especially wary of Chen Fei, who might retaliate after his plan was foiled by Chairman Zhao Yang. And I had refused Chairman Zhao Yang's offer to provide bodyguards, worried about information leaks, so I needed my own people for protection.
"But who can I trust?"
It was strange. The Chinese people, despite being poor and struggling to make ends meet, had an incredibly strong sense of national pride and loyalty.
It was unrealistic to expect them to develop loyalty and dedication to a Korean CEO like me.
And the Korean-Chinese, despite speaking Korean, were still Chinese at heart.
"This is a problem."
I needed trustworthy people, not just for my safety, but to handle the parts of the business I couldn't manage myself as the company grew.
As I was pondering these issues, I heard a commotion outside my office.
I assumed it was just another argument over inventory, but the noise persisted, so I opened the door and went out, annoyed.
I saw a few office employees talking to a production worker in a loud voice, their expressions troubled.
The interpreter approached me.
"Sir."
"What's going on? Why is it so noisy? It's work hours, why is a production worker in the office?"
The interpreter said nervously,
"There's… there's a problem."
"A problem?"
Just as I was about to ask what the problem was, the production worker spotted me and started walking towards me with a contorted expression.
The office employees tried to stop him, but he was too big and strong.
He was a tall, dark-skinned man, over 185 cm tall.
I glanced at him and said to the interpreter,
"What's going on? Explain it to me."
"Actually, this employee…"
Before the interpreter could finish, the production worker knelt before me and shouted something in a loud voice.
The office employees tried to drag him away, but I stopped them with a gesture and said to the interpreter with a hardened expression,
"What did he say?"
The interpreter sighed.
"He's begging you to let him keep working."
I was taken aback.
"What's he talking about? We're not firing anyone. We need more employees, not fewer. Tell him to go back to work."
The interpreter hesitated.
"It's just that… this employee used a forged ID to get hired. I apologize. It's our fault for not verifying his identity properly."
"A forged ID? Is he a mingong?"
CEO Wu had constantly warned me about the dangers of mingong.
They were rural residents who weren't allowed to work in cities, so they used fake IDs. They were desperate and would do anything for money, disappearing back to their villages without a trace.
So I had strictly forbidden hiring mingong.
"He's not a mingong… he's a heihaizi (black child)."
Under China's one-child policy, families who had a second child were fined a "social maintenance fee."
The fine was usually 10,000 yuan, about 1 million won in Korean currency, a significant burden for most families.
So many parents gave up on registering their second child's birth. If they could save enough money to pay the fine and register the child later, it was fine. But most couldn't.
Before China's industrialization, these unregistered children could live their entire lives in their villages, inheriting their parents' businesses, without any problems. But the situation had changed.
In the past, siblings could share their parents' farmland and still make a living. But with industrialization and the widening income gap between urban and rural areas, the second child became a burden.
Due to the tradition of prioritizing the eldest son, the farmland went to the eldest son, and the second child, with no land and no prospects, migrated to the cities to find work.
That's how the heihaizi, the undocumented, came to be.
"A heihaizi, huh."
I had the production worker brought to my office and observed him closely.
Perhaps conscious of my gaze, he started pleading desperately.
"He says he can work very hard. He's willing to accept a lower salary, he just wants to keep working."
I crossed my arms and said,
"What's his name?"
The interpreter checked the documents.
"His name is Li Yang, 21 years old, from Anhui Province. But I don't know if it's his real name."
"Ask him."
"He says it's real."
"I see."
He looked at least 30 years old because of his dark skin and large build, so I was surprised to hear that he was only 21.
Li Yang, fidgeting nervously on the sofa, suddenly stood up, knelt down, and said,
"He's begging you to let him work. He says he can work harder than anyone else."
I looked at him and said,
"What should I do…"
I felt sympathy for his situation, but a heihaizi? We didn't even hire mingong.
But I couldn't just fire him. What if he spread the word about our IC chip restoration technology?
Li Yang, sensing a glimmer of hope, said,
"He says he'll do anything you ask."
"Hmm."
I couldn't fire him until the travel ban on the other employees was lifted.
"I'll think about it. Tell him to keep working for now."
Li Yang smiled brightly, bowed deeply, and said,
"He's very grateful and says you won't regret this."
"And tell the office staff to keep quiet about this. It could create a negative atmosphere in the company if the other employees find out he's a heihaizi."
"Yes, sir."
After that day, I started observing Li Yang closely, visiting the production buildings frequently.
I had initially been worried about him causing trouble because he was undocumented, but he was diligent and hardworking.
He was the first to arrive and the last to leave.
He focused on his work and always gave his best.
He was the perfect employee, except for his lack of legal status.
I had assumed he was working hard because he had been caught, but I heard that he had always been one of the most diligent employees.
"He seems like a good person. It's a shame he's undocumented."
It was illegal to hire someone without a legal status, even if the government turned a blind eye.
"Hmm."
A thought suddenly struck me.
"If he doesn't have an identity, we can just create one."
10,000 yuan was a burden for an ordinary Chinese family, but it was less than what I spent on a single night out with CEO Wu.
He was young, diligent, healthy, hardworking, and the only thing he lacked was legal status.
And most importantly,
"He's Chinese, but not really Chinese."
Being undocumented was a huge disadvantage for Li Yang.
Heihaizi were the most vulnerable members of Chinese society, discriminated against and targeted by unscrupulous employers.
They had no legal recourse, no access to education, and were forced to live as illegal laborers, facing constant discrimination.
China was their motherland, but it was also the country that had branded them as heihaizi from birth.
Would they have any loyalty or patriotism?
"Creating an identity for him is a piece of cake."
I would be his savior.
The savior who freed him from the shackles of illegal labor.
And if I gave him a decent position, higher than the other employees, and compensated him well, wouldn't that heal his lifelong wounds?
I approached Li Yang, who was working, and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped, startled by my sudden appearance.
I said in my broken Chinese,
"Jintian xiaban hou lai wode bangongshi (Come to my office after work today)."
Did he think I was firing him?
I smiled brightly, seeing his face contort in fear.
"Hejiu. Yiqi hejiu (Let's drink. Let's drink together)."