Chapter 88: Localizing and Upgrading Equipment
Robert smiled and said, "Yes, our little partner in Hong Kong isn't just a genius inventor—he's also a marketing genius. We simply copied his strategy of giving away a small batch for free, and now we're getting flooded with calls from people asking to buy Post-it notes."
"Haha, he really is something. I didn't expect it to be such a hit," Robin said in amazement. The six phones in the office were ringing off the hook, and dozens of clerks were busy jotting down customer requests.
Behind them, another group was compiling the data, updating a blackboard with real-time statistics. The numbers were downright exciting.
Robert nodded. "I had expected Post-it notes to be popular, but I didn't expect them to blow up like this.
I just got off the phone with Hong Kong. They're working around the clock to meet demand, but honestly, I don't think that small factory of his can even cover California."
"Lack of production capacity?" Robin frowned. "That's a shame. If we had the manufacturing rights, we could've scaled up our output in no time."
Robert replied, "I tried to get Eric to license production to us—I even offered some concessions in other areas—but he flat-out refused."
"Why?" Robin asked.
"He probably wants to protect his own interests by keeping control of the manufacturing side," Robert said. "If he gives us the license, he wouldn't know how many units we're producing, and he couldn't just fly over here to check.
But if he doesn't license it and we secretly produce them anyway, the bigger our operation gets, the easier it'll be for him to find out."
Robin chuckled. "And what could he really do if he found out? He's just one guy from Hong Kong."
Robert shrugged. "Maybe nothing. But we've got a written contract. If we operate in a gray area, we might get away with it, but if we blatantly break the agreement, it would seriously hurt 3M's reputation.
Plus, if Eric hands the contract over to a U.S. law firm and takes it to court, the PR damage alone would be significant. It's not worth it."
Robin nodded. "Good point. We already control the distribution channels, so there's no need to fight over the manufacturing side. I'm just worried about supply."
Robert thought for a moment and said, "I don't know Eric all that well, but he gave me the impression that he's incredibly capable. Give him a little time, and I believe he'll find a solution to the production bottleneck."
Robin agreed. "He's sharp, that's for sure. He's got manufacturing locked down and has kept the rest of the world's markets open.
I bet he's waiting for us to build up the Post-it brand so that international distributors will come knocking on his door themselves."
Robert laughed. "Wouldn't you do the same? This product is too good. Once the U.S. market is up and running, I plan to fly back to Hong Kong and try to secure the European distribution rights."
Robin nodded. "You should've offered him a higher price back then—just buy the patent outright. Everyone has a price."
Robert sighed. "Who could've predicted the future? Anything over $500,000 requires board approval. And back then, the board wouldn't sign off on that kind of budget without real data.
Also, a few other companies were trying to contact Eric. If we had delayed any further, we might've missed the opportunity altogether.
And to be honest, I got the sense that he was determined to build his own factory. You know as well as I do—having money and owning a factory are two completely different things."
"Yeah, maybe," Robin replied. "Anyway, let's focus on what we have now."
Robert smiled. "Christmas is just around the corner. With a ten-day break, the Hong Kong side will have time to stock up. Once I get market feedback from California, I'll ask Eric to increase production accordingly."
Robin said, "Sounds good. I'd like to meet this guy someday."
"I'll invite him to the U.S. next time," Robert said with a grin.
Even though only businesses around Los Angeles had received Post-it samples so far, the overwhelming demand indicated that if the product rolled out nationwide, its commercial value would be enormous.
Holding a patent like this made Eric a top-tier partner for a company like 3M.
…
Hong Kong, December
Though it was December, the weather was occasionally chilly—especially when the sun wasn't out.
Inside a small office at the Changxing Factory, Yang Wendong sat up from his makeshift bed on the floor, yawning. Morning had arrived.
After a quick wash, Su Yiyi, Zhao Liming, and Lin Haoyu arrived with breakfast in hand. Su Yiyi said, "Brother Dong, you're sleeping in the factory every night. Isn't it too exhausting?"
Taking a bite of a meat bun, Yang Wendong replied, "It's fine. Honestly, it's not that different from home. Plus, it's more convenient for work. I spent over ten years living in a shack—I'm way better off now."
"That may be true, but you're the boss now. You don't have to do this anymore," Su Yiyi said with a smile. "We really need to find someone who speaks English soon."
Yang Wendong shook his head, laughing. "People who speak English usually prefer working for foreign firms. At the very least, they go to trading companies or big factories. A small place like ours? Hard to attract them—especially for a night shift."
In the 1950s, Hong Kong was still quite traditional. People with some education preferred jobs in large corporations or government roles. Small companies had a hard time recruiting talent.
And those who spoke English—especially fluent speakers—were highly sought after by foreign businesses. In a society where literacy was low overall, being able to read newspapers made someone a knowledge elite.
Zhao Liming asked, "Can't we just pay more to hire someone?"
"If you offer too much, they'll think it's a scam," Yang Wendong said, laughing. "Not that it's impossible—it just takes time. We won't find someone right away."
Even in the internet era, companies sometimes took months to hire the right person. That was with modern communication tools. In 1950s Hong Kong, unless you were a major company, hiring good talent was a slow and difficult process.
It was like how small private businesses in mainland China during the 1980s and '90s had to compete with state-owned and foreign enterprises for talent.
Lin Haoyu thought for a moment and asked, "Why not just install a phone at home?"
"You can install one, sure, but the number would be different," Yang Wendong shook his head. "I already asked the phone company. Technically, you can have multiple extensions with the same number, but only within a limited range."
There was no such thing as call forwarding back then. At most, you could share a single line across multiple phones within a short distance.
In theory, the Hong Kong Telephone Company could run a line from the factory to his house, but they weren't about to go through all that trouble for one customer.
Or perhaps there were other technical limitations—Yang Wendong didn't know much about telecommunications, let alone those of the 1950s. Even if an engineer from Huawei were to time travel here, they'd probably be left scratching their head.
Su Yiyi said, "Then I'll try to put more job ads in the newspaper."
"Mm, though it's not so urgent anymore," Yang Wendong smiled. "I contacted Robert again last night, and he placed another large order.
From now on, unless there's something really urgent, he'll just send orders via air courier.
Starting tonight, I won't need to stay here on duty anymore. If something urgent does come up in the U.S., Robert will call me at night, and I'll pay someone a bit extra to take those calls. It won't cost much if it's only once in a while."
"That's great news," Su Yiyi said, smiling.
Yang Wendong nodded. "Still, we should keep recruiting. We really do need someone who knows English."
"Understood," Su Yiyi replied.
They finished breakfast quickly. Then Zhao Liming asked, "Brother Dong, how big was the order from 3M?"
"Six hundred thousand units. They want them delivered to the U.S. right after Christmas," Yang Wendong said with a grin.
"Six hundred thousand?" Zhao Liming said in shock. "That's impossible! Even if we pushed our machines to the limit, we can only do fifteen thousand a day."
Yang Wendong nodded. "I know. That's why I declined.
Even if we could produce that many, it wouldn't be of much use. That's just the demand for a small part of California. If we met it quickly, 3M would immediately start pushing to other states."
This kind of instantly appealing product, which also improved office productivity, was a type of functional material—once released, it was bound to go viral.
Even in historical reality, 3M struggled to meet production demand when Post-it notes were first invented. There was no way Hong Kong could meet that kind of demand either.
So Yang Wendong wasn't in a rush. Just like Apple in 2010, it had taken them years to fix their supply chain issues. The more explosive the demand, the more important it was to stay steady and make sure everything—from production to quality—was on point.
Zhao Liming said, "Dongsheng told me yesterday that their copy of the machine is nearly complete. They invited us to visit tomorrow or the day after."
"Good. Let's go tomorrow," Yang Wendong nodded. "If Dongsheng can build this machine, it'll be a huge help to us."
Having both equipment production and after-sales service locally would greatly improve operational efficiency. It was similar to the concept of modern industrial parks—whether for textiles, hardware, or automotive industries, the more concentrated, the better.
As a transmigrator, Yang Wendong had never run a factory in his past life, but he had worked in trade. He understood the core principles of industry. Now, he was doing everything he could to steer things in that direction.
Unfortunately, Hong Kong's industrial foundation was too weak. It lacked a paper industry and glue manufacturing base, which meant he had to maintain high inventory levels and pay high procurement costs. There wasn't much he could do about that for now—he would focus first on localizing what could be localized.
The next day, Yang Wendong took Zhao Liming and Su Yiyi on the ferry, then hired a car to take them to Dongsheng Machinery Manufacturing, located in North Point on Hong Kong Island.
"Brother Dong, this place is pretty big—way bigger than our factory," Zhao Liming said, looking around in awe at Dongsheng and the surrounding factories.
Yang Wendong smiled. "That's normal. Our current scale doesn't amount to much in Hong Kong—but give it a little time. That might change."
With 3M's distribution channels expanding, he knew the current size of his factory was far from enough. And come spring, when the northern hemisphere warmed up, glue traps would enter peak season.
This time would be different from last year. Last year was just the beginning. But next year, distributors and trading companies would be fully prepared. Switching from plastic to cardboard would also make the product easier to export and sell. Sales were bound to explode.
Zhao Liming said, "Then we'll have to move. Our current factory can't handle that kind of expansion."
Yang Wendong nodded. "That's a common problem. When business suddenly booms, companies often have to find new space within a few months.
When plastic flowers exploded last year, I heard the same thing happened."
Rumors said that when plastic flowers suddenly became hot in Hong Kong last year, foreign buyers flooded in. Because of limited production capacity, some were willing to pay full deposits just to secure stock.
This led to factory owners scrambling to find bigger premises—while owners of industrial office buildings jacked up prices to take advantage of the sudden demand.
"Well, that's good to know," Zhao Liming said with a smile. "Dongsheng's people are here—that's their second-in-command, Zhou Zhigang."
"Hmm, looks like they're taking us seriously," Yang Wendong said with a slight smile. Even though he was confident about his future, for now, Changxing was still a small company.
Dongsheng, on the other hand, was a well-known equipment manufacturer in Hong Kong. Having the deputy director personally greet them was definitely a sign of respect.
"You must be Mr. Yang from Changxing Industrial?" Zhou Zhigang greeted with a warm smile, reaching out to shake hands.
Yang Wendong returned the gesture politely. "Hello, Mr. Zhou."
"Please come in," Zhou said to the three of them. "We've already prepared tea for your visit."
"You're too kind," Yang Wendong said with a smile. The exchange was standard business etiquette, but it still mattered.
Following Zhou, the group first entered a reception room inside a three-story office building at the front of the factory. Dongsheng was an established company, and in terms of infrastructure and presentation, it was leagues ahead of Changxing.
"Mr. Yang, Mr. Zhao, Miss Su—this is a display of Dongsheng's history," Zhou said proudly. "After the Japanese surrendered in 1945, Dongsheng was founded. At first, we made pliers and scissors. Later…"
Yang Wendong listened quietly, thinking to himself that once his own company grew larger, he'd need a historical wall like this too.
After the introductions and tea, Zhou led the group out of the office building and around to the factory floor.
There, they saw a machine almost identical to their own Post-it production equipment—currently running at full power.
An engineer came forward to greet them and began explaining the machine's specs.
Yang Wendong observed carefully, then asked, "Mr. Zhou, once this machine is moved to our factory and runs for a few days without issue, I'd like to order twenty units.
But can your team make further improvements to the design?"
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