Chapter 147: Meeting Gu Long
Qin Zhiye asked, "Our headquarters will be in Central?"
"Where else would it be?" Yang Wendong smiled. "You think we're setting up around here?"
Qin chuckled. "My bad, that was my own assumption. A lot of Hong Kong bosses like to base all their companies in the same area."
Yang shook his head. "Changxing Industrial will remain my core business, and Honghua Daily will also be a major part of my future. But for now, the two don't have direct overlap. You don't need to worry about this side."
"Understood," Qin nodded. "Once I get back, I'll draft a detailed business plan and budget. Once that's ready, I'll bring it over for your review, and then we can discuss the size and location of the office."
"Sounds good," Yang replied. "Lao Qin, I'm a complete outsider when it comes to the newspaper industry. I'll be relying on your expertise. But don't worry, I'll also recruit some more veterans from the industry to support you."
"Got it, Mr. Yang." Qin understood immediately what Yang meant.
By saying he wasn't familiar with the field, Yang was subtly giving him real authority—while also indicating that there would be checks and balances. The fact that Yang would bring in people himself meant that someone else would also be watching.
That was normal in Hong Kong businesses. Many bosses were diversified investors, constantly entering industries they didn't fully understand. Naturally, they hired professionals. But entrusting everything to a stranger was too risky. The safest model was to bring in several people and allow internal balance—like how ancient emperors ruled through internal rivalry.
Yang chuckled, pulled a business card from his pocket, and handed it to Qin. "Alright, we'll stop here for now. This is my personal card. If you have questions or want to meet again, give me a call.
Once your proposal is ready, you can call to schedule a meeting."
"Understood. I'll take my leave now," Qin stood, exchanged a few polite words, and left.
Yang walked him to the door, then turned around and made a phone call.
Not long after, Lin Haoyu arrived.
"Sit down. Want a cold Coke?" Yang said, pulling a bottle from the fridge. He opened it with a pop and handed it over.
"Coke? Haven't had one in a while," Lin laughed. He took a sip and added, "Hard to believe this stuff costs as much as one day's wages for a factory worker."
"Different regions, different economies. Coke's an international product. That's normal," Yang said casually.
Even in his past life, this disparity was common. In Western countries, a few minutes of minimum wage could buy you a pound of rice. But in parts of Africa, a full day of labor might not buy you that much.
Hong Kong was no different. Many people didn't even have jobs. Food was scarce. Labor was cheap. Only industrialization could improve that.
Lin took another sip, clearly enjoying it. Then he asked, "So, what did you call me over for, Dong-ge?"
"How's your business going lately?" Yang asked.
"It's picked up a bit—hot weather means more rats," Lin said. "But we haven't found any new clients this month. Especially with the glue traps doing so well. Warehouses and offices are just buying those and handling the problem themselves."
Yang chuckled. "Looks like one of our businesses is undercutting another."
"True." Lin nodded. "But the glue trap business is far more profitable than my pest control company."
"The pest control market isn't small, but it can't scale up. It's localized by nature," Yang said.
Even in big countries, such services were typically local operations. There was a ceiling.
"Yeah," Lin agreed. "Trying to do business on Hong Kong Island is a hassle. No place to stay, and commuting wastes too much time."
Yang asked, "Are all your employees from the squatter areas? How many people do you have now?"
"All from the squatter zones. About 120 people," Lin said. "Same with Liming's operation. Most of his people are from there too—he's got around seven to eight hundred."
"I know," Yang nodded.
One of the goals behind launching the glue trap line was to create jobs for people from the squatter settlements. Since production was mostly manual, it provided a lot of employment.
Post-it production, on the other hand, required more education due to complex quality management procedures.
Yang then said, "Haoyu, I called you today because I need you to help me with something. I need you to go to Taiwan and find someone."
"Taiwan?" Lin blinked. "Dong-ge, I've never been there."
Yang laughed. "Neither have I. There's a first time for everything. Treat it like a vacation. You don't have to track him down yourself. Just work with a local agency once you're there."
"Oh." Lin asked, "Who am I looking for?"
"He goes by the surname Xiong. He's a writer. He may have published some stories in Taiwan already. When you arrive, work with agencies to go through the list of authors," Yang explained.
The person in question was, of course, Gu Long.
But in this era without the internet, news from Taiwan rarely reached Hong Kong. Someone had to physically investigate.
"Alright, let me write that down." Lin pulled a small notebook from his shirt pocket and jotted it down.
Yang glanced at the handwriting and smiled. "Your writing looks decent. I guess you're fairly literate now?"
"I know most common words. But reading newspapers is still tough. I have to look things up or ask someone," Lin said. "A lot of characters I still can't write—just remember them vaguely and check later.
I always carry this notebook. It's for reminders, but also for learning. If I mess up a word or can't write it, I log it and look it up."
"Smart way to learn," Yang nodded. "It's been over a year now. You guys are practically fully trained.
Sure, there's still room to grow with Chinese characters, but it's already enough for practical use."
"Yeah. A year ago, if you told me I'd be reading and writing, I'd have laughed in your face. And now I've got a life like this." Lin's voice was full of gratitude.
"Life will only get better from here." Yang Wendong smiled and added, "Your pest control business was always meant to be small. I started that line mainly to help people from the squatter settlements.
But it's pretty much reached its limit. You don't have to stay tied to it. First, help me find someone in Taiwan. After that, we'll figure out what you want to do next."
Lin Haoyu grinned. "I'll do whatever Dong-ge asks. I don't mind being a worker again."
"Haha, not that bad—but don't expect it to be too easy either. Whatever the role, you have to be capable of handling it." Yang laughed and said, "Or, like Liming, you could handle recruitment from the squatter areas—filtering people who truly need the job and meet our standards."
"That sounds pretty good too." Lin nodded thoughtfully.
"We'll see later," Yang said. "For now, get ready to head to Taiwan. But don't go alone—bring two others, preferably university graduates. It'll help if anything unexpected comes up."
Changxing Industrial had grown large enough that university-educated employees were in no short supply.
"Got it," Lin agreed readily.
—
Over the following week, with the help of a headhunting firm, Yang interviewed several seasoned newspaper professionals. After some negotiation, three were hired, officially forming the founding team of Honghua Daily.
On August 22, the full team gathered for a formal meeting.
Qin Zhiye presented a document and said, "Mr. Yang, this is the photo and specification sheet for the color printing press I mentioned. The listed price is HK$112,000. It can print up to 50,000 copies of a 20-page newspaper per day. That's faster than most black-and-white printers."
"50,000 per day? Isn't that a bit much?" Yang asked with a frown.
Back in the 1980s and 90s, newspaper circulation in Hong Kong could reach well over 100,000. But this wasn't the 80s. Given today's economic level and literacy rates, the demand was much lower.
Qin explained, "I chose this capacity for two reasons. First, the pricing isn't linear. A 20,000-copy machine costs about HK$90,000—only HK$20,000 less. For us, a smaller machine would be a poor value."
"Makes sense," Yang nodded. Material costs might be lower, but development, labor, and marketing expenses were about the same regardless of capacity.
Qin continued, "The second reason is flexibility. Newsrooms often need to print large batches on short notice—like when a major story breaks. If we don't have the capacity, we can't respond in time.
That's why most papers here also build in extra headroom. And when the machines are idle, we can take outside jobs—like printing weeklies or comics.
This would be the first color press in Hong Kong. I'm sure it'll attract some outside interest."
"Alright, we'll go with the 50,000-capacity unit," Yang agreed. The logic made sense.
If there was good reasoning, he had no problem approving it. Post-it production was ramping up fast and cash flow was healthy. HK$100,000 was no longer a major concern.
Besides, Hong Kong's newspaper industry would enter a boom phase in the 60s. The timing was right.
"Mr. Yang, Mr. Qin," said an older man seated nearby. "Actually, we could distribute our paper not only in Hong Kong but also in Taiwan and Southeast Asia."
Yang looked over. "Old Wu, since you were with Galaxy Daily, which has done well in that space, we'll be counting on you for that."
Naturally, Yang's headhunting efforts had included poaching talent from top-tier newspapers. Given Galaxy Daily's recent dominance, it had been a top target.
Honghua Daily was designed to focus on the Hong Kong market. But if expansion overseas made sense later, the paper could be rebranded. Many newspapers operated under multiple names depending on the region.
Old Wu smiled. "Of course, Mr. Yang. I have contacts with distributors in Taiwan and Malaysia. As long as we maintain decent sales in Hong Kong, they'll be interested."
"Then our priority is to succeed here first," Yang nodded.
Just like with any product—once you succeeded on home turf, it was easier to branch out. Ten years later, Hong Kong's film industry would follow this same model.
Qin asked, "Mr. Yang, we'll need to go to Germany to inspect the machine. Will you be joining us?"
"No, you guys go," Yang waved it off. "I'll assign a lawyer with international business experience to accompany you. Negotiate the price together. You can also scout other options while you're there."
While HK$100,000 was a sizable sum, it no longer justified a trip abroad—especially when going to Europe meant losing half a month minimum.
Sure, he didn't trust the new hires 100% yet. But the lawyer was someone he had worked with before, and they could always call him from overseas. That would be enough.
After all, he couldn't do everything himself. Delegating was part of running a business.
Qin said, "Understood. I'll get ready."
"Here's the lawyer's card," Yang said, pulling it from the desk. "Coordinate with him and let me know your travel dates."
"Thanks, Mr. Yang," Qin replied as he took the card.
—
A few days later, Qin Zhiye, Old Wu, and the lawyer, Mr. Wang, boarded a plane to Germany.
Yang continued coordinating from Hong Kong—but he also felt the pain of working without internet. So many things had to be discussed over the phone, and half the time, it was impossible to explain things clearly.
Even basic photos and spec sheets from Germany took three days to arrive by mail.
In the end, he let the team finalize everything. Once they all agreed, they phoned him with the summary. Based on the info available, Yang approved the purchase of a Heidelberg printer for HK$108,000.
Manufacturing and shipping would take just over two months. The team returned to Hong Kong and began preparations for launching the paper.
—
September 1 arrived.
Lin Haoyu returned from Taiwan, bringing with him a young man in his early twenties.
Yang had already prepared for his arrival. As the young man stepped inside, Yang greeted him warmly. "Mr. Xiong, welcome to Hong Kong."
The newcomer was none other than Gu Long, real name Xiong Yaohua. After Yang had provided basic info, Lin traveled to Taiwan with two colleagues and enlisted a local agency to track him down.
Taiwan wasn't big. Writers weren't that numerous. And the surname "Xiong" was rare. It didn't take long to find him.
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