Chapter 144: Strategizing for Control — Taming the Future of the New Yi On Society
"Mr. Yang, a pleasure to meet you." Inspector Wu extended his hand with a polite smile. "There are many 'kings' in Hong Kong's industrial world, but you're the one I admire most. In just one year, you rose from the squatter settlements and built everything from scratch. Truly impressive."
"You flatter me," Yang Wendong replied with a chuckle. "Necessity is the mother of entrepreneurship."
Inspector Wu laughed. "Plenty of people live under pressure. But very few manage to rise like you. Even some of the British bigwigs I know are impressed after hearing your story—they respect what you've achieved."
"British interest, huh? That's good news." Yang smiled.
There was real weight in the phrase "self-made." People naturally gravitated toward those who had built themselves up, because most people were just ordinary. When they couldn't make it themselves, they admired those who did.
Even those born into comfort found inspiration in stories of rags-to-riches. It was universally respected.
Yang's early ventures didn't step on anyone's toes. Every market he had entered had been a blank slate, not something controlled by local magnates. So there had been no friction, only goodwill.
Zhao Chengguang interjected, "Gentlemen, why don't we head inside? The food and drinks are ready."
"Of course. Please, Inspector Wu," Yang gestured.
"After you," Wu replied, not putting on any airs. Even though he wasn't afraid of big businessmen, it was always better to be on good terms with them.
The group soon sat down at their table, chatting as they enjoyed their meal. Inspector Wu was especially curious about Yang's entrepreneurial journey and asked many questions. Yang shared just enough to pique interest without revealing too much.
After some casual conversation, Wu raised his glass. "Mr. Yang, your story is truly remarkable. Let me offer you a toast."
"Cheers." Yang clinked glasses and downed a sip of fragrant Maotai. The wine stimulated his appetite, and he turned his attention to the dishes before him.
The dinner proceeded with light conversation, never touching on the "real" reason for the meeting. In fact, all the terms had been negotiated in advance by Zhao Chengguang, who had served as the middleman.
Inspector Wu controlled a cotton mill through a network of connections. That mill specialized in manufacturing safety gloves and workwear. From now on, Changxing Industrial would order these items from his operation.
Of course, despite the connection, service quality had to meet expectations. When an order came in, it had to be fulfilled immediately—no delays allowed. These terms had already been agreed upon.
At Changxing's current size, even ancillary items like gloves and uniforms represented enough business to feed a small company.
Wu wouldn't get rich from this, but it was a starting point. If he proved himself valuable in the future, Yang Wendong would naturally reward him with more lucrative contracts.
For example, once adhesive hooks hit the market, even a small spillover of orders would be enough to feed an entire plastic factory. And if the volume was high enough, even a novice could launch a factory from scratch. In manufacturing, scale brought wealth not just to the owner, but to everyone along the chain.
This initial meeting was simply a warm-up. For now, Yang faced no real threats—no rivals from either the underworld or the business world. None of his ventures so far had posed a conflict to others' interests.
—
On the ride home afterward, Wei Zetao said, "Mr. Yang, I did some digging. There's a decent-sized plastics factory near Tsim Sha Tsui that's affiliated with the Yi On Society. That gang got cracked down on by the government back in '53.
But in recent years, they've kept a low profile and moved into legitimate business. They still have some shady elements, but they're gradually going straight."
"Yi On?" Yang raised an eyebrow.
Now that he had entered the public eye, securing his empire meant expanding his network. And in Hong Kong, that meant brushing shoulders with people who had real clout.
Yi On Society was one of the few names that stood the test of time—it had real influence, both in this era and beyond.
Wei nodded. "They run a few legit businesses. One of them is a plastics factory. I've already had someone approach them under the guise of a normal business deal.
They didn't suspect anything. In fact, they seem eager to land us as a client."
"Good," Yang nodded. "Just don't be too obvious. Maintain some professional distance. We're the customer, so we set the tone. Don't overwhelm them with orders at first—test the waters."
"Of course. If we go too big too fast, they'll get suspicious," Wei said with a smile. "But once our volume grows, they'll realize we're a stable, profitable client."
"Exactly. Take it slow. And don't deal with them directly yourself. Your position is too high-profile. Let someone from procurement handle it—just a regular engineer. No need to explain the full situation to him.
Still, remind him to avoid being too harsh with them. If we push too hard and someone gets hurt, that's a problem."
"They won't go that far. Since they're doing legal business now, they've learned to restrain themselves," Wei said, then added after a pause, "But you're right. We do need to protect our people.
I'll remind all procurement staff—treat suppliers with basic respect. If someone ignores that and gets roughed up, they'll have to take the hit themselves."
"Fair enough. If something does happen, we can offer compensation later," Yang said. "The key is to keep pretending we know nothing. Once our orders make them reliant on this income, we'll have them."
"Just like any other vendor," Wei grinned.
Yang thought for a moment and added, "Contact a headhunter for me. I want to find someone who's been in the newspaper industry for a long time. I'm thinking of launching a paper."
With how fast the Post-it business was growing, their export and tax numbers would soon hit public databases. Yang needed to prepare.
The seeds he had planted in both the legal and underworld spheres would take time to grow. They'd eventually become rooted alliances—he'd just need to nurture them when the time was right.
Media, however, was another front entirely. If he owned even a mid-tier newspaper, it could bring massive strategic advantages—not necessarily in revenue, but in influence.
Whether or not the plan would succeed remained to be seen. Even if it did, it would take time. That meant he had to start early.
Wei nodded. "Got it. I'll speak with a headhunter right away."
"Thanks," Yang said. "For now, let's focus on stabilizing Post-it production—capacity, quality, and delivery."
"Understood. You can count on us to give it everything we've got," Wei said.
The sudden scale-up was testing everyone, but once they pushed through this phase, with enough skilled workers in place, everything would get easier.
—
Two days later, at a factory in northern Tsim Sha Tsui, a young man around twenty-five looked down at a sheet of paper and asked the man beside him, "Old Liu, is this plastic hook from that massive new order you just mentioned?"
"Yep," Old Liu replied. "You'll never guess who placed the order."
"Who?" the young man asked, curious.
The Yi On Society was a big operation. They had plenty of enforcers—but most of them were also workers. After all, the society couldn't afford to feed idle men who didn't contribute.
To be a 'brother,' you had to earn your keep. If not, you were out. There were plenty of hungry youths outside waiting to take your place.
That's why their factories were a core part of the organization. Parking lots, gambling dens, and wet markets were held by the toughest, but the factories provided stability, legitimate income, and minimal police trouble.
And among them, the An Yi Plastics Factory was a crown jewel—hundreds of employees, highly valued by the organization.
"It's from Changxing Industrial," Old Liu said.
"Changxing Industrial?" the younger man, Xiang Huayan, thought for a moment. "Never heard of it. I've only heard of Cheung Kong Holdings."
Old Liu chuckled. "Not that one. This is a different company. Ever heard of the Post-it King? You must've read about him recently."
"Oh! That guy?" Xiang Huayan's eyes lit up. "So Changxing Industrial is his?"
"That's right."
"But Post-its are made of paper, right? Why's he ordering plastic parts from us?"
"No idea," Liu shrugged. "But he's a major industrialist now. Diversification's normal. Plenty of factories make dozens of products."
"Fair point," Xiang nodded. "Then you better handle this well. Lock down that order.
If we get this business, our brothers will have steady work. If they're idle too long, they'll start making trouble."
"Understood, Xiang," Liu said with a grin.
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