Chapter 186: Becoming a Father
"Yes, we secured the land," Yang Wendong said with a grin.
Others might still be weighing risks, but he already knew that the real estate market would rise steadily for the next few years. Without needing to worry about any downside, how could anyone else possibly compete with him?
Su Yiyi smiled brightly. "That's great! I'll ask Auntie Wang to cook a few more dishes tonight."
"Sure," Yang nodded. Auntie Wang was now their family chef, and she was quite good at what she did.
That evening, after dinner, Yang turned to Su Yiyi. "In a few days, let's go to Chow Tai Fook in Central. I want to buy some gold."
"More gold?" Su Yiyi blinked. "Didn't we already buy quite a lot?"
"Just consider it an investment," Yang replied with a chuckle. "Chow Tai Fook is giving me a discount—it's not a bad deal."
"A discount? I've never heard of Chow Tai Fook offering discounts," Su Yiyi asked curiously.
"Well, not exactly," Yang explained. "I met Cheng Yutong today—he's the son-in-law of the founder, Chow Chi-yuen. He invited me personally. I can't just ignore that.
Even though he's the son-in-law, he's also Chow's successor. He's already ventured into real estate, and we might end up working together."
Like the future Bao family, Chow Chi-yuen only had one daughter. After she got married, he handed the entire family fortune over to her husband.
Fortunately, the brand name "Chow Tai Fook" remained intact. It wasn't like the Bao family, where by the new millennium, most Hongkongers only remembered the "Wu family" among the top ten clans.
"Alright then. I want to buy something for my mom too," Su Yiyi said with a smile. "She always says gold is the safest way to preserve wealth."
"She's right. For regular folks, buying gold is one of the safest financial moves," Yang nodded.
Before the collapse of the Bretton Woods system, gold's value remained stable. After 1973, gold would soar—far outperforming the dollar, the pound, and other major currencies.
Diamonds, platinum, and rose gold? Those were just marketing scams.
September 1st, Yang arrived at Chow Tai Fook's Queen's Road branch. Cheng Yutong came out personally to greet him.
"Mr. Yang," Cheng smiled, "our most famous product is 9999 gold—pure to four nines. There's no other brand in Hong Kong that can match our quality."
"I've heard of that," Yang said, smiling. "Launching 9999 gold in such a chaotic market took real courage. You've got vision."
Before 1956, Hong Kong's gold market was a mess. Stores sold mixed-metal jewelry. The better ones had only a few percent impurity; the worst were half fake.
Worse, they often colluded with triads. Anyone who tried to return gold got beaten—or worse.
That's why many Hongkongers were afraid to buy gold, even if they had the money.
But Cheng, when he took over Chow Tai Fook, forced through the launch of pure 99.99% gold despite intense internal resistance.
He earned the full trust of the Hong Kong public.
That single decision made Chow Tai Fook the city's No. 1 gold brand.
Cheng grinned. "The fact that people can finally buy gold without worry—that's our biggest achievement."
"Well said," Yang nodded. "Solving people's problems while earning huge profits—that's the best kind of business."
"Compared to you, Mr. Yang, I'm still far behind. Your Post-its and rolling suitcases—I've used them both. Incredibly useful inventions," Cheng said. "By the way, I've noticed you've become very active in real estate. Are you planning to go all in?"
"Just dipping my toes in for now," Yang replied. "Why? Got something in mind?"
"I heard you just picked up a new residential site," Cheng said. "Would you be interested in co-investing in another one?"
"Another one?" Yang asked. "Why not just do it yourself?"
Cheng laughed. "The plot is huge—it'll take serious capital. I'm already stretched thin with my office project.
I need a strong financial partner."
Yang nodded slowly. "Why come to me?"
"Most of the people I know are already maxed out at the banks," Cheng replied. "But I've done some homework. Your factories are wildly profitable, yet your bank loans are still minimal. You've got borrowing power."
"That's true," Yang agreed. Though he had borrowed a fair amount, real estate developers could use $100,000 in equity to leverage $1 million in loans. He wasn't close to that level yet.
"But I'll be honest," Yang added. "I don't have much in the way of oversight tools for joint ventures. I'd rather avoid co-investments for now."
Joint ventures in real estate were common—they pooled funds, spread risk, and maximized bank leverage.
But only one party ever truly led the project. That lead partner made the bulk of the profit.
Yang was wealthy, but in the real estate world, he was still a rookie.
"Hahaha, no worries," Cheng replied. "That's why I've kept it simple. The plot I'm targeting is in Happy Valley—zoned for villas.
We could build 160 of them. If we split the investment 55-45, that's 80 villas for each of us. Fair?"
"Happy Valley?" Yang asked. "How much do we need to invest?"
"Roughly a million HKD. Not much," Cheng said. "But I need someone reputable to co-sign with me at HSBC."
"HSBC?" Yang frowned. "I thought you had a good relationship with Hang Seng?"
"I do," Cheng explained. "But this project is closely tied to HSBC. The loan has to go through them.
And HSBC's risk reviews are stricter than most."
"I see. Let me think about it," Yang said. There was no way he'd commit on the spot.
"Alright. I'll send the details to Changxing Real Estate tomorrow. Once you've decided, I'd appreciate a quick reply," Cheng said with a smile.
…
The next day — weekend.
Yang took the day off and stayed home.
He and Su Yiyi lounged on the sofa watching a program on Rediffusion Television.
Yawn — Yang stretched and looked sleepy.
Su Yiyi asked, "Didn't sleep well? Why so tired this morning?"
"No, it's just that this TV show is so boring," Yang half-lay on the couch. "I'm about to doze off."
Su Yiyi tilted her head. "Really? I think it's okay. I heard Witty and Fun is one of the highest-rated shows in Hong Kong."
"Maybe so, but it's still boring to me," Yang said, picking up a newspaper and novel. "You keep watching. I'll read for a bit."
For a time traveler like him, these old-school programs were too tame to be entertaining.
Unfortunately, Hong Kong's free-to-air television licenses wouldn't be issued for another five years.
Once available, he'd invest heavily in TVB and make it even better than in the original timeline.
He wasn't looking to get rich from it—he just wanted better shows to watch.
"Alright," Su Yiyi said, turning her attention back to the screen.
After a while, a housemaid brought over two bowls of snow fungus soup. "Mr. Yang, Madam Yang, here's your sweet white fungus and longan soup."
"Thank you," Yang said, putting down his paper and taking a bowl.
Even though he was still young, his health-conscious habits from his past life had returned once he became wealthy.
He didn't believe in fancy herbs like ginseng or cordyceps, but basic dietary health remedies? Totally worthwhile.
The soup was delicious. As Yang drank half, he noticed Su Yiyi hesitating with hers.
Before he could ask, the maid beat him to it: "Madam, is the soup too sweet?"
"What's wrong, Yiyi?" Yang asked. "These were made from the same pot, right?"
"Yes, exactly the same," the maid confirmed.
Su Yiyi swallowed a mouthful and said, "It's nothing. I just feel a bit nauseous lately. The smell of food makes me queasy."
"Nauseous?" the maid gasped. "Madam, could you be pregnant?"
"Pregnant?" Yang's eyes lit up. It was definitely possible. They'd been married over three months, and at their age, the odds were high.
Generally, with no fertility issues, young couples had an 85% chance of conceiving within a year.
Su Yiyi shook her head. "I don't know."
"Let's go to the hospital and find out," Yang said, already reaching for the phone. "I'll call Auntie Guo."
After their marriage, Auntie Guo had refused to live with them full-time, choosing to return to their Kowloon villa. Most of her close friends were there.
The maid said, "I'll get the driver ready."
The whole group rushed to the hospital. After speaking with the doctor, Yang was surprised to learn that there were no ultrasound machines yet—either they hadn't been invented or hadn't made it to Hong Kong.
Instead, three veteran Chinese physicians confirmed Su Yiyi's pregnancy through traditional pulse diagnosis. That was enough for Yang.
Soon after, Auntie Guo and Lin Haoyu's family arrived. Yang explained what had happened.
"Morning sickness?" Auntie Guo, an experienced woman, smiled. "Good thing you're not still living in a shack. Back then, we barely had food."
"Haha, now we've got all kinds of food. She'll find something she can eat," Yang replied. "The doctors checked her out. Let's all head home."
Auntie Guo nodded, then offered, "I'll move in with you guys. I don't feel comfortable leaving Yiyi in others' hands."
"Of course. We've got plenty of empty rooms," Yang said without hesitation.
Now that he was going to be a father, it didn't matter whether the child was a boy or girl—it would be one of the future heirs to his business empire.
He wasn't biased toward sons. But if it were a boy, it would be easier to groom him early—get him into the company, learn the ropes, and eventually take over.
After all, people weren't immortal. The commercial empire he'd built through so much effort had to be passed on like a dynasty.
That night, the whole household carefully tended to Su Yiyi, which made her feel a bit overwhelmed.
The next morning, Yang stopped by Changxing Industrial and told Wei Zetao, "Prepare a lavish lunch for all our employees. Let them enjoy something nice."
"No problem," Wei replied, then asked, "What's the occasion?"
"Yiyi's pregnant," Yang said with a grin.
"Congratulations, Mr. Yang!" Wei immediately offered his best wishes. "I'll get logistics on it right away—might not be ready by today, but we'll start from tomorrow."
"Sounds good," Yang nodded.
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