Back to 1958: Creating a Century-Long Family Empire

Chapter 53 – Refusing Investment

Yang Wendong nodded. "Of course. It's not like Hong Kong is the only place in the world with rats."

An Yongqiang followed up, "Then what if I could help sell the glue boards overseas?"

"You have channels abroad?" Yang asked.

"Not exactly," An admitted. "But I do know a few people with resources. If there's profit to be made, I think it's possible."

Yang nodded. "For now, I won't restrict your overseas sales.

If you can do it, more power to you.

"But later on, if I start signing exclusive distributor deals in certain countries, and there's a conflict, we'll have to prioritize exclusivity."

Throughout the history of commerce, aside from rare moments like China's early Reform and Opening period—when demand exceeded supply and manufacturers held power—most of the time it's the distributors who hold the cards.

Unless you're a top-tier brand or have cutting-edge tech, you depend on the channels.

Especially in 1950s Hong Kong, where nearly all factories depended on local distributors.

Even Li Ka-shing had to rely on European and American agents to sell his now-famous plastic flowers.

If Yang wanted his glue boards to sell overseas, he'd need to partner with local power players abroad.

An nodded. "Understood. That's fair."

Zhao Chengguang added, "There are plenty of export-oriented trading companies in Hong Kong. If you'd like, I can introduce you to some."

Yang smiled. "I appreciate that, Mr. Zhao. But for now, let's focus on the local market.

We still don't have strong domestic sales data—without that, it'll be hard to convince foreign partners."

Although Yang knew he'd eventually rely on distribution networks, he wasn't about to put all his eggs in one basket.

Ideally, he'd work with multiple partners—or better yet, go directly to overseas distributors when the time came.

That's what Li Ka-shing did. It's what any capable manufacturer aimed to do.

Otherwise, you'd end up at the mercy of a single Hong Kong trading company.

Zhao nodded. "Fair enough. Still, I know you've only just started, and money might be tight.

What if I invest in your business?"

"You want to invest in me?" Yang raised an eyebrow, then asked, "You mean in my pest control company?"

Zhao didn't answer directly. Instead, he said, "I heard when you registered, you set up multiple entities—a parent company and subsidiaries.

Looks like you're planning more than just pest control."

"I am," Yang said, not trying to hide it.

Anyone who bothered to check would know. There was no point pretending.

Zhao continued, "So what kind of ventures are you planning next?"

"Haven't decided yet," Yang replied.

"I just know that pest control has its limits. Long-term growth will require something else.

But for now, I don't have a specific idea."

That wasn't entirely true. Yang had spent months thinking through ideas from the future, comparing what existed now versus what didn't.

He'd come up with several possibilities.

But many required substantial capital or advanced technology. Others could be done but might be too easy to replicate or too costly to defend with patents.

So he was still waiting. The next project needed to be small, patentable, and hard to copy—a creative, low-tech product he could scale quickly.

Otherwise, he'd just be building value for someone else to steal.

But in the future, once he had more money, connections, and scale, all that might change.

"I'd like to invest in your parent company, Changxing Industrial," Zhao said.

Yang replied calmly, "Mr. Zhao, how would we even evaluate that?

It's a shell company. There's no way to determine its worth yet.

"Glue boards have potential, but their value hasn't been fully realized.

If the price you offer is too low, I won't accept.

If it's too high and I reject it, it might offend you.

"So let's hold off. Once we've proven the product's value, then we can talk numbers."

"You're not even curious what I'd offer?" Zhao asked with a grin.

Yang shook his head. "No need. For now, I'm not accepting any investments."

If the offer was low, he'd reject it.

If the offer was high and he still said no, it might seem like an insult.

Yang didn't want to take that risk—he still needed Zhao's help to grow in Hong Kong.

Only after the product succeeded locally could Yang use it as a launchpad to expand abroad.

Zhao understood. "Alright. We'll revisit it later."

"Definitely," Yang smiled. "And today, lunch is on me."

"Sounds good," Zhao and An agreed.

"Let's go. Yiyi, keep an eye on the factory," Yang said, grinning.

The negotiations had been short, but the outcome was huge:

His factory's distribution channels in Hong Kong were now officially secured.

And with the past success at Kowloon Wharf and the known efficacy of the glue board, Yang wasn't worried about demand.

After sending off his two partners, Yang returned to managing his factory.

At this stage, his core team still consisted of Su Yiyi, Zhao Liming, and Lin Haoyu.

Over the past few months, he'd taught them to read, write, and do basic math.

Now, they could manage simple paperwork. And thanks to their warehouse and port experience, they'd also grown in business maturity.

In a worn-down corner office, sitting around old wooden desks and mismatched plastic chairs, the four of them reviewed factory accounts together.

Things were quiet these past few days, so Yang had time to both check operations and continue teaching his team.

Suddenly, Lin Haoyu said, "Brother Dong, some of the warehouses have started terminating our contracts.

Wang Zhixian isn't pushing back either—he's just letting them go."

Yang didn't seem surprised. "That's normal. Pest control projects are always temporary.

Once the rats are gone, clients don't want to keep spending money."

He didn't mind. "Let's just focus on the factory for now. That's our future.

But I won't completely give up the warehouse work. We'll revisit it later."

Haoyu nodded. "Got it."

Just then, Zhao Liming chimed in. "Brother Dong, here's the price quote I got from a lumber supplier. Have a look."

Yang took the sheet, brows furrowed. "That's a bit expensive, no?"

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