Chapter 97: Full-Scale Production, Full-Speed Money-Making
The Lunar New Year passed quickly.
There wasn't much of a festive atmosphere in Hong Kong. Like in later years in mainland China, the colonial government had banned firecrackers due to frequent fire hazards—especially since wooden houses were still common.
Each household might prepare more food than usual, but most of it stayed indoors. At this point, there was little to no tradition of visiting relatives, since the majority of Hong Kong residents were migrants.
February 12, the fourth day of the Lunar New Year.
Most Hong Kong factories had already resumed operations. In such a tough economy, ordinary workers didn't really have the right to take long holidays. Many didn't even understand what a "weekend" was.
Yang Wendong first went to his original factory. A truck was already on standby, and a few workers were dismantling the Post-it production machines for transport to the new facility.
Zhou Xianglong was directing the process. When he turned and saw the boss, he walked over with a smile. "Happy New Year, Mr. Yang."
"Same to you," Yang replied, nodding. "Can you move all the equipment today?"
"We can. The machines aren't that big. We only have six units here—it'll take two trips."
"Good." Yang nodded. "And what about Dongsheng? When are their machines arriving—specifically?"
The original agreement with Dongsheng was for delivery by the eighth day of the New Year, but that was the latest possible date. In most cases, they would deliver early. The exact timing would become clearer in the next couple of days.
Zhou answered, "The sixth day—day after tomorrow. The first batch is ten machines. The remaining twenty will be delivered in two more batches before the Lantern Festival."
"Glad we've already rented the new factory. Otherwise, we'd have a real space crisis here," Yang said with a laugh.
He had initially planned to install the new machines in the original location. They could technically fit, but it would be incredibly cramped and chaotic.
Zhou grinned. "They'd fit, sure, but they'd take up so much space that we couldn't produce glue traps properly."
"If funding hadn't come through, we'd have had no choice but to squeeze them in here," Yang nodded. "Glue traps can be made almost anywhere. We could've just rented a cheap place."
Everything had to be prepared in advance—but preemptive planning always carried some risks. You had to be ready with contingency plans in case funding or resources didn't arrive on time.
This was one of the hard-earned lessons Yang had brought from his business experience in his past life.
Zhou agreed. "If we'd had to do that, it would've seriously impacted our production capacity."
Yang nodded. "Yes, but it would've only delayed us by a few months. Once the business was running and profits were coming in, we could expand again—just like now.
The bank loan merely accelerated our plans. It doesn't determine whether we live or die."
That said, time was still a precious commodity—especially for entrepreneurs and people with money.
You could always earn more money, but lost time was gone forever. A few months' delay might seem small, but it could mean missing major opportunities down the road.
That's why he was determined to make the most of the bank's funds—especially if he ever entered the real estate industry.
Zhou chuckled. "Well, with how popular our products are, any smart person should see the potential."
"Exactly," Yang smiled. Then he asked, "This truck's just about ready. How are you guys getting to the new site?"
Zhou looked a little awkward. "Mr. Yang, how about you ride in the passenger seat of the truck? A few of us can ride in the back."
"You're the one who should be riding shotgun!" Yang paused, then added, "Stick to your plan. I've already ordered a rickshaw. I'll go separately today."
"Great," Zhou said, visibly relieved.
Yang continued, "Just wait a bit longer. We'll be buying a car soon. That'll make things easier for everyone."
Since arriving in this era, the two things Yang found hardest to adjust to were the lack of mobile phones and the lack of cars—especially now that his business was growing.
Of course, the absence of the internet and smartphones was more disruptive, but there was nothing he could do about that. As for cars—that could be fixed.
Last year, he'd made a decent amount of money from glue traps in the summer and could've bought a car. But with so much capital tied up in preparing Post-it production, he had shelved the idea.
Zhou suddenly said, "Mr. Yang, maybe consider a used car. You can get one for three to five thousand.
That amount won't affect us too much, and I don't think Liu Chong Hing Bank would be too strict about it—or they might just turn a blind eye."
"A used car? That could work," Yang mused.
Even though Liu Chong Hing had lax risk controls, they were still monitoring how the loan funds were used.
After the loan was issued, all the funds would remain in the bank's system. They would know exactly what was being purchased and how much was being spent. If someone used the money to speculate on property—or fled with it—they'd suffer huge losses.
Unless the borrower had enough collateral, or had pre-negotiated unrestricted usage, or used less-than-conventional methods, every transaction would be scrutinized.
Using a production expansion loan to buy a car might be possible with the right "connections," but it wasn't worth the risk. Better to wait until the company's own cash flow improved—then buy freely.
Zhou smiled. "With how fast we're growing, one car definitely won't be enough.
Start with a used one, and when you get a new car later, the old one can become the company vehicle."
Yang laughed. "Sounds like a plan."
"That's fine. Once things settle down in the next few days, we'll go take a look," Yang Wendong said with a nod.
It was a minor issue. As long as they could power through the next stretch, the company's cash flow would improve significantly. Buying a car or even a house would be easy.
Never mind loans—unless they pursued some massive investment project, their account balance would be more than sufficient. Post-it notes and glue traps were practical products that brought real value to daily life and work. As long as they stayed relevant, they would continue generating generous profits with little effort.
Still, in business, if you have a good opportunity, using bank capital is always the smart move. And if not for expansion, even something as simple as stockpiling prime land and properties would be a wise long-term investment. The real estate market wouldn't go into full-blown explosion for a few years yet—but that also meant that many future "golden lots" were still remote and dirt cheap.
…
When Yang Wendong's rickshaw dropped him off at the new factory, he saw Zhou Xianglong once again—this time supervising a forklift unloading equipment.
Yang didn't stop to watch the process. Instead, he walked straight into the building.
"Brother Dong." Zhao Liming stepped out just as Yang was heading in.
Yang was surprised. "Why are you here? Wasn't the old factory handed over to you for glue trap production?"
According to the plan, the new site would be dedicated to Post-it production, which required machines, while the old factory—with its hand-assembled glue traps—would be under Zhao's management. That also allowed for recruitment near the shantytowns.
Zhao grinned. "That side is mostly manual labor. Now that Dongsheng's small extrusion equipment has arrived, our efficiency is up, and I've got some free time. So I came to take a look."
"Oh? Dongsheng really is impressive," Yang laughed.
They had solved so many of his problems. Without local equipment suppliers, he'd have had to place orders with Japanese companies—which would've taken longer and cost more.
Even for glue trap production, Dongsheng had offered helpful, professional advice.
Of course, there were benefits on both sides. Yang's bulk orders meant good profits for Dongsheng, and more would come.
Zhao then asked, "Brother Dong, I heard from Old Zhou that this factory setup can only cover short-term needs. Eventually, we'll need even more space. So will this site be handed over to me for glue trap production in the future?"
Yang thought about it and realized it was possible. "That might actually happen."
Their current layout was only a short-term plan. Once production scaled up, the facility likely wouldn't be enough—for either Post-its or glue traps.
It was inevitable. Any hit product's first few years were always plagued by capacity issues. The only solution was to keep opening new factories.
Even Apple, decades later, took years to resolve iPhone production bottlenecks—despite working with experts like Foxconn. Every time they launched a new model or product like the iPad, demand would outstrip supply again.
Unless you had unlimited money and could build a mega-factory from the start, it was impossible to expand so fast without sacrificing quality. Skilled labor was still the key, and that couldn't be rushed.
The only solution was gradual growth. When the company was flush with cash, they could build a stable, long-term facility.
And that's assuming there were no new products. If Yang thought of another game-changing product suitable for the times, he'd be facing the same growing pains all over again—maybe even worse.
"Haha, that'd be great," Zhao said with a grin. "The only problem is this place is a bit far from the shantytown. It'll be tough for the guys to commute."
Yang thought for a moment, then smiled. "That's fine. In the future, we can look into building a factory near the shantytown. Let's revisit it later."
Glue traps might not have the same market potential as Post-it notes, but they were still a core part of his future business. He wasn't the type to abandon a profitable venture just because a more profitable one came along—especially when they didn't conflict.
From an employment standpoint, glue traps were far better. And controlling employment would be the key to establishing long-term security in Hong Kong. Employment was the foundation of political stability. The more people you employed, the safer you were.
And since he was providing jobs, he naturally wanted to help the city's most vulnerable group—residents of the shantytowns. Their wages were also lower, making it a win-win.
"That's good," Zhao said, then added, "I've already walked through the new factory. Want me to give you the tour?"
"Sure." Yang nodded. He could walk through it alone, but he didn't mind company.
As the two entered, Yang quickly realized the place looked completely different from his last visit, before the New Year.
Zhao explained, "I just spoke with the security guard. Apparently, some workers came in during the New Year holiday. In less than half a month, they rewired everything and did a rough cleaning. The only thing left unfinished is the warehouse structure."
Yang nodded. "The warehouse isn't urgent. Our capacity won't ramp up that fast anyway."
"Looks like you planned this well," Zhao chuckled. "Brother Dong, sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming. The changes we've seen in just one year… it's unbelievable."
"I'm honestly afraid that one day, I'll wake up and find myself back in the shantytown a year ago, and all of this was just a dream!"
"A dream?" Yang Wendong laughed. "Would you have dared to dream this big a year ago? A hundred workers under you? Eating meat every day? Sleeping on a six-foot Simmons mattress? Riding around in rickshaws or taxis?"
Zhao Liming scratched his head, slightly embarrassed. "Yeah… a year ago, I wouldn't have dared to dream of anything like this."
"Sometimes reality feels even less real than a dream—sometimes more terrifying, sometimes more beautiful." Yang shrugged, then grinned. "But if this really was all just a dream, then I'd say congratulations are in order."
"Congratulate me? For waking up back in a shanty?" Zhao asked in confusion.
Yang chuckled. "If you could dream all this up, then when you wake up, you could walk the same path for real. Just don't forget to take care of me when you make it big, haha~"
"…" Zhao stared for a second, then said, "Come on, Brother Dong, don't joke like that. Even if I had the idea, I wouldn't be able to do what you've done."
"Just messing around," Yang said, then his tone softened. "We've both left the shantytown behind, but there are still so many people trapped there.
We might not be able to change their homes, but we can offer them stable, better-paying jobs. That's something within our power. From now on, the glue trap line will be our way of creating jobs for shantytown residents. I'm putting you in charge."
"I understand, Brother Dong. You're meant for bigger things. Leave this part to me and Haoyu. It's what we're best at anyway," Zhao nodded. "But… we only know how to produce. What about the sales side?"
"I'll handle that for now," Yang said. "When you're ready, I'll hand that over too."
"Alright!" Zhao smiled brightly.
Yang added, "In the future, there might be more work like this—stuff that needs a lot of people. When that time comes, I'll put those factories near the shantytowns so we can hire more people."
"What kind of work?" Zhao asked.
Yang shook his head. "No idea yet. We'll see when the time comes."
The gap between life in his past world and this one was massive, and many modern conveniences didn't yet exist here.
Most of the high-potential products required technical know-how or were tied to modern trends. They weren't easy to create and needed significant capital investment.
Moreover, unless a product directly improved people's lives or work—like the Post-it or glue trap—it would be hard to promote.
There were no social media influencers in this era. If a product didn't grab attention immediately, it needed powerful sales channels to survive.
Still, as his capital grew, even if he couldn't create the next viral product, he could choose a good industry and do honest business—enough to create jobs and build influence.
"Oh, I see," Zhao nodded without pressing further.
After making another round through the factory, they returned to find that all six machines had already been unloaded and were being installed.
Zhou Xianglong and Wei Zetao were discussing something. When they saw Yang, they approached.
"Mr. Yang," Zhou said with a smile, "the power's hooked up. We'll run a test production tomorrow, and full-scale production the day after."
"The day after?" Yang calculated quickly. "Perfect timing—Dongsheng's machines should be arriving then too."
Zhou nodded. "Yes, the timeline's tight but coordinated."
"Alright. Let's push hard for now," Yang said. "Once all the machines are in place, it's time to produce like crazy."
Zhou grinned. "Yes, Mr. Yang. Also, we've hired 28 more workers. They're all literate and can handle basic numbers, but their average wage is slightly higher than before."
Yang replied, "If they can read and write, it's only fair they earn a little more. Otherwise, what's the point of being literate? As long as it's within market standards, I'm fine with it."
Unlike the glue trap side of the business, Post-it production required workers with better comprehension.
Of course, literacy doesn't always equal intelligence, but in any standard business, no one has time to vet that. That's why, in his past life, even when university graduates were everywhere, big companies still filtered by educational background first.
Zhou nodded. "Understood. Once we bring in more machines, we'll continue hiring based on the same criteria."
"You and Old Wei handle it," Yang said. He didn't need to worry about every detail anymore. As long as he had the general picture, that was enough.
Over the next few days, the six Japanese machines that had been moved from the old factory started running without issue. Of the ten new machines delivered by Dongsheng, a few had minor hiccups but were quickly fixed.
With 16 machines running full tilt, production was already in full swing.
Soon after, the remaining 20 units arrived in batches, and the entire Changxing Industrial operation officially entered a full-production mode—every Post-it produced was essentially a sheet of cash.
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