Chapter 143: A Strategy for Navigating Both Sides of the Law
Wei Zetao nodded and said, "Exactly. That's why we need to start preparing now—aligning our interests with various influential groups in Hong Kong. Only by building those ties can we manage the attention we'll attract when our exports double next year.
Once that data gets out, the reaction will be even more explosive than it was this time."
In Hong Kong, so-called "industrial kings" emerged every year or two—not common, but not unheard of either. The public would learn of them, talk about it for a while, and then move on.
What made Yang Wendong stand out this time was his rags-to-riches story and his youth. That's what had captured the public's imagination.
But even that kind of buzz only lasted about two weeks.
However, if they publicly released export numbers in the billions of Hong Kong dollars, that would be on another level. In this era, anyone associated with the word "billion" was either one of the big British trading houses or a major bank.
Yang Wendong said, "Zhao Chengguang is going to introduce me to a senior figure in the Hong Kong police force. When the time comes, we'll go meet him together. And remember—our dealings must be strictly legal. Don't try anything shady."
"Understood," Wei nodded again. "If we're building ties with the police, what about the triads?"
Yang thought for a moment. "Same approach. We'll conduct legal business with them—give them legitimate work. Help feed the gangs in the surrounding areas. They have workers too. If we become part of their economic ecosystem, our interests align.
I won't use them for anything illegal. But I want them to protect my business—because if we go down, they lose out too."
In his past life, rumors swirled online about Hong Kong triads having hundreds of thousands of members. But that was clearly unrealistic—what organization could afford to feed that many idle hands?
In truth, most "societies" in Hong Kong operated as protection rackets with a paper-thin structure. Some required members to pay dues for protection. Others put their people to work in factories—either their own or others'.
At the end of the day, everyone just wanted to make money. Only when there was no money to be made did they turn to crime. If someone could give them a legitimate way to support their people, then they became allies.
Wei nodded. "That makes sense. Lots of factories use that strategy—hire triad members to gain protection.
But our factory mostly deals in paper and glue. Some small tools and supplies, sure, but we're not exactly producing enough to feed a gang."
"Not now," Yang shrugged. "But give it two or three months. Don't forget—we still have adhesive hooks and spin mops in the pipeline.
I've been thinking about what you said earlier. Trying to produce everything ourselves clearly isn't feasible. We simply don't have the bandwidth. So we'll outsource.
That way, we can indirectly gain influence over other factories—and by extension, the gangs they work with."
Yang had always hoped to do everything in-house. That way, he could also accumulate more land. But reality was setting in fast—even producing Post-its alone was consuming the entire upper management's time and energy.
By his estimates, once adhesive hooks hit the market, they'd become even more popular than Post-its. Spin mops might not reach the same sales figures, but they were bulkier, required more manpower, management, and floor space.
Post-its could keep the company cash-rich, but this was no longer just a money problem. Scaling up also took time. Managing a rapidly growing workforce was taxing, especially for the current team. Too much expansion too quickly could lead to major quality issues—and that would be disastrous.
So like many major companies in his previous life, Yang decided that proper outsourcing was the best way forward—especially for the low-margin, high-effort work like molding plastic parts.
As for land acquisition? When he had more capital next year, he could go shopping in Central.
Wei smiled. "That sounds good. The glue for the adhesive hooks should be done testing in about a month. After that, we can start preparing for market trials."
"Good." Yang nodded. "And the spin mop?"
"They've already sourced the bearings from Japan," Wei said. "They're working great so far. The mop head can now be spun dry smoothly. We're continuing with full-cycle testing, which should take another two or three months."
"Good. Testing is for quality assurance—we can't rush that," Yang said.
"Exactly," Wei agreed. "Besides, Changxing Industrial's growth has been rapid. Just Post-it production alone already surpasses most factories in Hong Kong.
Now that our production capacity is up, quality control becomes more important than speed. We need to stabilize things before we even think of launching new products."
Yang nodded. "Agreed. The other products can wait a bit. Post-its are our only released product so far anyway."
Wei smiled. "Right. If the factory expands too fast, we risk serious quality issues—that would hurt us more in the long run."
"Yeah." Yang agreed again, then added, "Anyway, the real goal of outsourcing is to expand our network. I'm not in a rush—but go ahead and start scouting potential partners."
"I'll send some of our engineers to visit the nearby plastics factories," Wei said.
"Great. One more thing," Yang continued. "At the Liao Chong Hing Bank banquet, I spoke with Mr. Jin Yong. Originally, I wanted to invest in Ming Pao so we could gain some influence in the media. That could help us with future marketing.
But Jin Yong turned me down. He made it clear that even if I invested—or anyone else did—it would be strictly financial. No influence over editorial decisions, let alone content."
Wei immediately understood and asked, "So… are you thinking of starting your own newspaper?"
"I am," Yang said with a frown. "It would boost our influence, and it would give us control over ad space—especially if the paper had good circulation.
The funding isn't a problem. We already have some capital, and once Post-it production is fully ramped, we'll have even more.
The problem is, I don't know how to run a paper. How do we compete with publications that have been around for decades and have tens of thousands of loyal readers?"
"This…" Wei Zetao thought for a moment and said, "Mr. Yang, I'm afraid I won't be of much help with this part. I'm no expert. You might want to consult someone in the industry."
"Fair enough," Yang Wendong nodded. "Then for now, focus on things here—make sure the equipment gets installed and tested properly, and that Post-it production starts smoothly. Once that happens, everyone's getting a big bonus."
As the company's leader, Yang now only handled strategic-level matters. He had neither the time nor expertise to personally manage hundreds of machines, thousands of workers, or the processes for tens of thousands of Post-it notes each day—raw material inspection, production, batch control, final inspection, warehousing, and shipping. He simply couldn't do it.
That responsibility fell to the team he'd built. Since Wei Zetao had come on board, the company had been steadily recruiting new staff to strengthen every department. With the company's scale and capacity expanding tenfold, so too did the need for competent managers.
And as the company grew, Yang had already raised everyone's wages based on performance. For big projects, generous bonuses were also part of the plan.
"Thank you, Mr. Yang." Wei smiled.
A week later, all 136 machines from Changsheng had been delivered. Installation and preliminary testing were underway. Although Post-it machinery wasn't particularly complicated, having so many units kept everyone at Changxing Industrial working at full throttle.
Tens of thousands of Post-its were coming off the lines, each from a different machine. The quality control team raced between production areas, labs, and testing rooms, constantly performing inspections.
The warehouse department had also expanded significantly, and storage was now systematically organized—materials and products arranged by zone.
Yang visited the warehouse and, seeing rows of loaded pallets, asked, "Wei, Zhou, these stacks of paper weigh more than the machines, don't they?"
Wei Zetao replied, "Yes. Because we had to install the machines on the upper floors of an industrial office building, we asked Changsheng to use aluminum parts wherever possible. That reduced the weight, but increased the price by HK$120 per unit.
But paper—there's nothing we can do. A full pallet of stock paper can weigh more than the machines. It puts significant pressure on the floor."
Production director Zhou Xianlong added with a laugh, "Don't worry, Mr. Yang. When we designed the factory, we factored this in. After construction, we even hired a well-known Japanese inspection company to certify the building's load capacity. They're very reputable in Hong Kong."
"Good," Yang said, then added, "But let's keep monitoring it. Hire a professional company to reinspect the floors every six months to a year. Safety comes first."
After all, his entire net worth was tied up in these buildings. Compared to the value they could produce, safety costs were insignificant. But if anything went wrong, it could destroy everything he'd built.
"Understood," Wei said. "We live here too—we care about safety."
"Alright, then." Yang didn't say more.
The three of them toured the facility together, with Zhou providing live updates.
After the walkthrough, Yang asked, "So our biggest issue right now is batch management?"
"Exactly," Zhou said. "Our product is simple, but we're making huge volumes across many machines. Batch tracking means recording each shift, on each machine, separately. That's about 260 batches per day right now.
When more machines are added, it'll only get worse. Tracking every batch's location, and even post-shipping details, becomes very difficult. We'll need highly literate staff to manage it."
"Then hire them," Yang said. "Offer higher pay if needed. Get a few dozen university grads if you have to. This must be done well.
When you don't need batch data, no one cares. But if there's a problem and you don't have it, it'll be chaos."
Once production scaled, a single warehouse could hold tens of millions of Post-its. If a few turned out defective, how would they investigate? Open every box?
Even assuming they did, the process would destroy the product's quality and cost a fortune.
And if a customer raised concerns, they'd need to trace affected batches and notify other buyers. Without proper batch control, that was impossible.
In his past life, they had ERP and MES systems—and things were still messy. In this era? Even worse.
"Understood," Zhou said, thrilled by the green light to expand hiring.
Yang added, "If anything comes up, say so early. As long as it's reasonable, I'll approve it."
"Got it, Mr. Yang," Zhou grinned. Having a generous boss made life a lot easier for senior employees.
Yang glanced at his watch and said to Wei, "It's about time. We should head out."
"Alright." Wei nodded and turned to Zhou. "Old Zhou, the rest is in your hands."
"No problem," Zhou said with a smile.
Yang and Wei soon left for a small restaurant in Central.
When they arrived, Wei looked around and said, "This place looks kind of rundown…"
"But the interior is very upscale," Yang smiled. "Come on, Mr. Wu is cautious. I wanted to meet at a major hotel, but he insisted on this place."
Even in an era where Hong Kong's police corruption was practically open, no one would say they were taking bribes.
And senior officers belonged to different internal factions. Even if they were making money, it wasn't done crudely. Meetings with big businesspeople were always kept discreet.
"Fair enough," Wei nodded.
Inside, the decor was indeed luxurious. It wasn't as spacious as a hotel ballroom, but that was expected—this kind of venue catered to the elite and didn't need to be large.
A waiter led them in, where they found Zhao Chengguang and a sharply dressed, imposing man in his fifties.
Zhao smiled. "Mr. Yang, this is Inspector Wu, head of Kowloon District. Mr. Wu, this is Mr. Yang Wendong—currently the most famous businessman on Hong Kong Island. The Post-it King."
"Inspector Wu, pleasure to meet you." Yang reached out to shake hands politely.
This was the man he had come here specifically to meet. A senior figure within the Hong Kong Police.
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