Back to 1958: Creating a Century-Long Family Empire

Chapter 31 – Wish Fulfilled: Leaving the Shantytown

Starting a business was always a whirlwind. Yang Wendong found himself so busy he barely noticed the sunrise and sunset.

Every new warehouse required his personal attention at the beginning. He had to walk the grounds, identify possible nest sites, and strategically place traps.

Often, he also had to organize teams for a coordinated extermination, using both physical methods—like boiling water and bucket traps—and chemical ones when appropriate. It was a science. It was a war.

And he was the general.

Despite delegating some responsibilities to Zhao Liming and Lin Haoyu, they still lacked the deeper technical know-how. So, for now, Yang had to stay on the front lines.

For over half a month, he raced from site to site like a soldier on campaign—on foot, most of the time—because cheap transportation options didn't reach the scattered warehouse zones.

Luckily, his excellent communication skills meant he got along well with warehouse staff. Since rats were mostly active at night, some warehouses even agreed to let Yang and his men sleep on-site.

That alone saved enormous time and energy.

By mid-April, things were finally stabilizing.

One evening, Yang jogged all the way back to the shantytown. Sweat drenched his shirt.

"Brother Dong!" Su Yiyi spotted him from a distance and waved him over, eyes bright. "I made you egg fried rice—and added a bit of leftover braised chicken broth. It's super tasty!"

"Sounds great," Yang replied, still catching his breath. "Let me shower first."

April had brought back Hong Kong's humid heat, especially around midday when the sun beat down mercilessly. Every trip between warehouses left him drenched.

He'd learned to drink water in advance and carried a reused plastic soda bottle. That kept him hydrated—but nothing could stop the sweat.

Su Yiyi smiled, "I already thought of that. I had someone fetch a bunch of water from the well earlier. You'll have plenty for a full wash."

"You're brilliant," Yang grinned. "I'll be right back."

"Okay, we'll wait for you to eat," she nodded.

…

In the shantytown, bathing was a challenge.

While Hong Kong winters weren't freezing, they were cold enough to make cold water baths unpleasant. Heating water required either money—or time and firewood.

And in the summer? Water shortages were common. Queues at the well sometimes led to fights.

Fortunately, now that Yang had some income, he could pay people to fetch water in advance, saving himself the hassle.

After a full-body rinse and change of clothes, Yang joined the others for dinner.

"How's the fried rice?" Su Yiyi asked as he took his first bite.

Yang wolfed down several spoonfuls before replying, "Delicious."

In the modern world, where health nuts feared carbs and oils, fried rice would've been seen as a dietary disaster. But here, in 1958, it was a luxury meal—rich, oily, and nourishing.

Su Yiyi beamed. She placed a piece of braised pork into his bowl. "Eat more. I bought extra fatty meat just for you."

"Thanks." Yang nodded.

In poor societies, fatty meat was worth more than lean meat.

A while later, Yang leaned back, satisfied. "That hit the spot."

"Mmm…" Su Yiyi mumbled as she smacked a mosquito off his leg. "That one was full of blood. Brother Dong, you're already getting bitten."

"Used to it," Yang said, unfazed.

Mosquitoes didn't bother him anymore. In the shantytown, physical exhaustion was a bigger issue than a few bug bites. He was so tired most nights, he didn't even notice the buzzing.

In fact, even people in regular apartments weren't immune. The buildings were poorly insulated. Noise traveled. If you found a quiet room and slept through the night, you were already living like a king.

"I still think it'd be better not to get bitten," Su Yiyi insisted. "I'm going to buy mosquito nets—one for each of us."

Yang thought for a moment and said, "No rush. Our beds aren't even standard size. Even if we hang nets, they might not do much good.

"I plan to look at apartments tomorrow. If it works out, we can move in a few days.

"If the new place has mosquitoes, we can buy nets then."

Mosquito nets weren't cheap. They couldn't be handmade easily, at least not cost-effectively. In a semi-industrial Hong Kong, these were luxury items.

"Really?" Su Yiyi asked, her voice low but full of emotion.

The walls in the shantytown weren't soundproof. She was careful not to speak too loudly, not wanting to attract attention from neighbors.

Yang nodded. "Yes. We've saved up a little over the past month."

With 700 dollars in weekly income, minus expenses and wages, Yang was netting around 200 dollars a week. Once the business stabilized and material costs dropped, that could rise to 300.

Fortunately, Wang Zhixian and his boss had been prompt with payments, likely because Yang had delivered solid results.

Su Yiyi glanced around. "You didn't bring any money here, right?"

In the shantytown, naivety meant danger. If you didn't know someone tough—or weren't tough yourself—you could easily be robbed or pushed out.

"No worries," Yang said. "It's all in my bank account. I only carry cash when I'm paying for goods or handing out wages."

"Good," she said with a sigh of relief.

Yang added, "But I don't plan to rent a residential unit."

"What do you mean?" Su Yiyi looked confused.

"Our business needs an office," Yang explained. "Right now, you're doing the books here. That's barely manageable.

"I want to rent a small space near the warehouse cluster. During the day, we work. At night, we sleep there. It's not quite home—but it's way better than this."

"That makes sense," Su Yiyi nodded. "Smart thinking, as always."

"Honestly," Yang grinned, "we just can't afford anything fancier."

"Let's start with that, then," she said.

"Good. Let Haoyu and Aunt Guo know. The five of us will move first."

"Got it."

…

Three days later, Yang signed a rental agreement for a 300-square-foot office in Tsim Sha Tsui.

It wasn't fancy. But it was central—right between his key warehouses.

As they moved their belongings—old bowls, rice bags, bamboo baskets—neighbors from the shantytown peeked out, eyes full of envy.

Yang and Su's family packed only the essentials and walked away. They weren't moving into a mansion. But they were finally leaving the shantytown behind.

Goal #1—achieved.

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