The motorcade bumped along the dirt road for nearly another twenty minutes.
The farmhouses on both sides of the road grew increasingly sparse until they disappeared entirely.
They were replaced by vast stretches of reed marshes and exposed, grayish-white tidal flats.
The smell in the air changed. The earthy scent of mud was replaced by a salty river breeze.
The second alternative site.
The motorcade stopped at a temporary parking lot paved with gravel.
At the end of the parking lot was an earthen dike less than a meter high.
Beyond the dike lay the broad waters of the Yangtze River estuary.
The scene before them was starkly different from the A-03 plot they had just seen, which was enclosed by wooden stakes.
There were no traces of human development here.
On the other side of the earthen dike was an extremely open riverbank.
Withered yellow reeds stretched from their feet to the horizon, leaning uniformly in one direction under the autumn wind, making a soft rustling sound.
At the edge of the reed beds was a wide, grayish-blue ribbon of water—the South Branch channel of the Yangtze River estuary.
Several 10,000-ton ocean-going cargo ships were moving slowly in the channel, their black hulls appearing exceptionally heavy under the grayish-white sky.
The sound of a siren drifted from far away, weakened by the wind into a faint, low moan.
Satsuki stood atop the earthen dike, the wind blowing the hem of her coat and the tips of her hair behind her.
She raised her Polaroid camera.
Click.
The reed marshes.
Click.
The cargo ships in the channel.
Click.
The silver-gray mud of the tidal flats washed by the river water below.
Chen Zhiyuan stood below the dike, looking up at the slender figure taking photos everywhere on the crest.
He noticed that this time, the Young Miss did not complain.
"This plot is numbered B-07," Chen Zhiyuan introduced to Endo, who had also climbed the dike, sweeping his arm in a large arc.
"The total area is 520 mu (34.67 hectares around 49 soccer fields).
It directly borders the river to the north, with a shoreline length of 1,600 meters.
The east and west sides are currently uncultivated barren flats, with no adjacent industrial or residential land."
He paused and added, "It is completely independent. It is not adjacent to any existing buildings on all four sides."
Endo stood on the dike, the pages of his notebook fluttering in the wind. He pressed down on the paper with his left hand and recorded quickly with his right.
"520 mu (34.67 hectares around 49 soccer fields). 1,600 meters of shoreline." Endo looked up, his gaze sweeping over the endless reed marshes.
"What is the current land classification?"
"Agricultural land," Chief Wang caught up from behind, panting, his leather shoes covered in black mud.
"Changing it to industrial land requires provincial-level approval. However—" He glanced at Chen Zhiyuan.
"If it is a foreign-owned, export-oriented project, the approval process can use a green channel."
Endo nodded and noted down this information.
Meanwhile, a Japanese engineer who had followed the motorcade had already walked down from the dike and was crouching at the edge of the tidal flats.
Using a folding military shovel he carried with him, he dug a small pit about thirty centimeters deep in the ground.
Water began to seep through the walls of the pit almost instantly. The grayish-black mud showed obvious fluidity on the shovel's blade; when squeezed with fingers, water immediately oozed through the gaps.
The engineer stood up and wiped his fingers with a handkerchief. He walked back to the dike and, as he passed Endo, said something in very low Japanese.
"Alluvial silt. Moisture content visually estimated to exceed sixty percent. The depth of the bearing layer is unknown, estimated to be between negative twelve and negative eighteen meters."
Endo's pen paused for a moment. He wrote a number in the margin of his notebook: "-15m?" and then closed the book.
"Director Chen," Endo turned to Chen Zhiyuan, his tone steady.
"There is a technical issue that needs confirmation."
Chen Zhiyuan made a gesture for him to proceed.
"The dead weight of a single unit of our stamping equipment exceeds forty tons, and the peak dynamic load during operation can reach fifteen tons per square meter." Endo put his notebook back into his briefcase.
"This kind of heavy equipment has extremely high requirements for the bearing capacity of the foundation.
If the surface soil is too soft, the pile foundation needs to be driven to a very deep bearing layer to meet the requirements."
He looked at Chen Zhiyuan.
"For every additional meter of piling depth, the cost increases exponentially. Does your side have existing data from a geological survey report for this plot?"
Chen Zhiyuan's expression did not change. He had long expected the Japanese side to make an issue of this point.
"To be frank," Chen Zhiyuan spread his hands, "no formal engineering geological survey has been conducted for plot B-07 yet.
After all, development has just begun, and the city's survey teams are still lined up over at Lujiazui."
He then changed the subject.
"However, according to preliminary data from the Pudong New Area geological survey, the thickness of the alluvial layer in the Waigaoqiao area is approximately between ten and fifteen meters.
The bearing layer is Quaternary silty clay, with a standard bearing capacity value of fifteen to twenty tons per square meter." Chen Zhiyuan looked at Endo.
"Of course, specific data will require your side to conduct your own drilling for confirmation. The city can coordinate with the geological team to prioritize the arrangements."
Endo nodded noncommittally and noted these words in his book.
Chen Zhiyuan noticed that while recording, Endo drew two horizontal lines under the figures "ten to fifteen meters."
This Japanese butler was already calculating the cost of piling in his head.
Watching Endo close his notebook, Chen Zhiyuan made a mental note—foundation costs were a pain point for the Japanese side.
This bargaining chip could be saved for the negotiating table.
...
On the other side of the earthen dike.
Satsuki walked a distance eastward along the crest. She stopped on a slightly elevated mound, facing the river to the north.
The wind blew from the river, pressing the reeds into a carpet of flattened golden waves.
In the channel, the black silhouette of another ocean-going cargo ship slowly moved into view from the left.
Satsuki lowered her camera and watched the cargo ship.
Her gaze started from the ship's waterline and extended downward below the surface—the part invisible to the naked eye.
But she knew that a bulk carrier of that size would have a fully loaded draft of at least ten meters.
And in this channel, it was sailing smoothly.
This meant that the natural water depth in front of this shoreline was sufficient to accommodate the passage of 10,000-ton ships.
Satsuki retracted her gaze and glanced at the tidal flats at her feet.
The distance from the dike crest to the waterline was about eighty to one hundred meters.
Within this distance, the slope of the tidal flats was gentle, with no obvious reefs or hard obstacles.
If a heavy-duty wharf were to be built here—
She didn't continue that thought, because Chen Zhiyuan was leading a group of people toward her.
Satsuki turned around, knelt down, and toyed with the reed rhizomes at her feet with her fingers. Her actions made her look like a city girl curious about wild plants.
"Young Miss!" Chen Zhiyuan's voice came from over a dozen meters away, carrying an enthusiasm thinned by the wind.
"The wind is strong here, be careful not to catch a cold!"
Satsuki stood up and brushed the grass clippings off her gloves.
She didn't respond to Chen Zhiyuan's concern, but instead suddenly raised her hand and pointed at the cargo ship receding into the distance on the river.
"Director Chen."
Satsuki's voice was broken up by the wind, and Chen Zhiyuan had to quicken his pace to get closer; the translator behind him could barely keep up.
"That," Satsuki's finger followed the direction of the cargo ship, her tone carrying the excitement of a child seeing something novel.
"Can those big ships sail all the way here?"
Chen Zhiyuan looked in the direction she was pointing and nodded with a smile.
"Of course. This channel is the main channel of the South Branch of the Yangtze River estuary, with a maintained water depth of over ten meters year-round. 10,000-ton cargo ships pass through here every day."
Satsuki's eyes lit up. She pulled back her hand, clasped her hands behind her back, and looked up at Chen Zhiyuan.
"Then my family's yacht can sail here too?"
Chen Zhiyuan was taken aback. "Yacht?"
Endo stepped up from behind and timely took over the conversation.
"Director Chen, my apologies," Endo bowed slightly, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness.
"The Young Miss has recently had a... somewhat willful idea."
He pushed up the gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose.
"The group is currently customizing an ocean-going superyacht for the Young Miss. The new ship's design draft is quite deep, making it impossible for ordinary yacht docks to accommodate it.
The Young Miss has always hoped to build an exclusive private wharf next to her own factory."
Endo looked at Chen Zhiyuan, his tone sincere.
"It's embarrassing to say. If we ultimately select this plot as the site for the industrial park, the Young Miss will likely demand that we use our own funds to pour a deep-water concrete wharf in front of the shoreline and perform a certain degree of dredging in the forward channel.
This is to ensure her yacht can safely berth under any tidal conditions."
Endo closed his notebook and placed his hands in front of him.
"The costs for this part of the hydraulic infrastructure will naturally be fully borne by the Saionji Group.
We only need your side to provide the corresponding administrative approval support regarding water surface usage rights and channel construction permits."
As Chen Zhiyuan listened to the translator's rendition, his expression shifted from surprise to thoughtfulness, finally settling on a perfectly measured look of difficulty.
He turned his head and exchanged an extremely brief look with Vice Director Liu standing behind him.
Vice Director Liu's eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.
A deep-water wharf. Self-funded construction. Dredging.
Just to park a yacht, this rich Young Miss was going to pay out of her own pocket to build a heavy-duty berth on this barren flat—one that, based on the draft depth Endo described, would be capable of docking ships of at least 20,000 tons.
And once this wharf was built, the first commercial berth of the Waigaoqiao Deep-Water Port would essentially have all its hydraulic infrastructure costs advanced by foreign capital on behalf of the state.
This was yet another massive political achievement.
Chen Zhiyuan rapidly ran through the pros and cons in his mind.
Water usage rights—they can be approved. Besides wild reeds and passing cargo ships, there's nothing on that stretch of the river right now. Granting exclusive use to Japanese capital won't affect any existing shipping order.
Channel dredging permits—these require approval from the Ministry of Transport's Port Authority.
But if the municipal government steps in to coordinate and submits it under the name of 'foreign investment supporting infrastructure,' the chances of passing are extremely high.
After all, the Japanese are paying for the dredging, and the improved channel depth will be permanent, benefiting the entire Waigaoqiao Port area in the future.
The only thing that needs to be confirmed is the scale of this 'yacht marina' construction—exactly how big will it be?
"Mr. Endo," Chen Zhiyuan said, weighing his words,
"how big is the Young Miss's yacht? I need a rough idea of the dimensions so I can apply for the water area approval from the Port Authority."
Endo glanced at Satsuki.
Satsuki was crouching at the edge of the embankment, using a Polaroid camera to take pictures of a cluster of reeds swaying in the wind beneath her feet.
She seemed completely uninterested in this technical conversation.
"It's still in the design phase," Endo said, turning back.
"But according to the Young Miss's requirements, the new ship's total length is expected to be between eighty and one hundred meters. The full-load displacement..." He paused, as if recalling an uncertain figure,
"is approximately three thousand to five thousand tons."
Chen Zhiyuan's Adam's apple bobbed.
A three-to-five-thousand-ton "yacht."
Do you Japanese like to sail warships as yachts or something?
But he didn't press the issue. A zaibatsu heiress capable of producing one hundred million US dollars in cash wanting to build a five-thousand-ton private yacht—while staggering in its extravagance, it wasn't logically impossible.
Middle Eastern oil princes did things ten times more outrageous than this.
The key was that to dock this "yacht," the pier she was willing to build at her own expense would necessarily need to be designed to withstand the mooring forces and impact forces of a five-thousand-ton vessel.
And a pier capable of docking a five-thousand-ton ship could easily accommodate thirty-thousand-ton bulk carriers or roll-on/roll-off ships with just a slight reinforcement of the front structure.
Chen Zhiyuan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.
"Mr. Endo," his tone became gentle,
"I fully understand the Young Miss's requirements. To be honest, the natural conditions of this coastline are very suitable for building deep-water berths.
As long as the funds are in place, the city can specially approve the exclusive water usage rights and coordinate with the Port Authority to prioritize the approval of the channel dredging construction permit."
He extended his right hand, pointing to the vast mudflats covered in reeds beneath his feet.
"If the Saionji Group is interested, we can package this land, along with the supporting coastline and water area, into a land lease agreement as a whole."
Endo nodded and noted this down in his notebook.
He didn't make a statement on the spot, only politely saying,
"I need to go back and report to the board of directors."
On the way back, the motorcade returned along the same route, grinding over that teeth-grindingly muddy road once again.
In the backseat of the Toyota Crown, Satsuki leaned against the backrest with her eyes closed.
Fujita Tsuyoshi handed her a hot towel from the front seat. Satsuki took it, unfolded it, and covered her hands, letting the heat seep into her fingertips, which had been chilled by the river breeze.
She wiped the backs of her hands and wrists with the towel, folded it, and placed it on the armrest. She kept her eyes closed.
"Endo."
"Yes."
Satsuki's voice was kept extremely low, her lips barely moving.
"The natural water depth at the coastline's edge is sufficient. The fact that fully loaded ten-thousand-ton ships run in the channel means the main channel's depth is consistently no less than twelve meters year-round.
We only need to perform local dredging at the front of the berth; there's no need for large-scale dredging of the entire channel.
The hydraulic engineering costs for the pier will be lower than estimated."
Endo's hand rested on the cover of the notebook on his lap, his thumb unconsciously rubbing the edges of the leather cover.
"But the foundation issue is more serious than expected," Satsuki said, her speaking pace very slow.
"The engineers say the moisture content exceeds sixty percent. If the alluvial silt layer is fifteen meters thick, the PHC pipe piles will have to penetrate the entire weak layer to reach the bearing stratum, the cost of the pile foundation engineering alone will be astronomical."
Her eyelashes fluttered.
"Negotiations are tomorrow. Use the cost of foundation treatment as leverage to push the land lease unit price down to under twenty thousand US dollars per mu."
Endo's thumb stopped rubbing. Twenty thousand dollars per mu. Five hundred and twenty mu. A total price of ten million four hundred thousand US dollars.
According to the industrial land guidance prices currently published by the Pudong Development Office, this figure is about one-third of the listed price.
"What if they don't accept?"
"They will accept," Satsuki said, her tone devoid of fluctuation.
"This land is currently a barren beach. No roads, no electricity, no water. If they don't sell it to us, no other sucker will be willing to pay out of their own pocket to pioneer it there within five years."
"Honestly, if it weren't for the circumstances, this deal would definitely be our biggest loss. We are practically paying them to take it."
She pushed the used towel aside.
"Besides, we have promised to build our own deep-water pier. Once that pier is built, the value of the surrounding plots will increase tenfold. The land price they concede to us will be recouped twofold from the adjacent plots."
Satsuki opened her eyes, watching the withered yellow rice fields receding rapidly outside the car window.
"Chen Zhiyuan isn't stupid. He can do the math."
Endo closed the notebook and tucked it back into the compartment of his briefcase.
"Understood."
The car interior fell silent again. The tires rolled over a mud pit, and the car body jolted violently.
Satsuki's shoulder hit the door armrest; she frowned, but didn't make a sound.
That night, at the Shenhai City Foreign Investment Promotion Bureau, in Chen Zhiyuan's office.
The desk lamp's halo illuminated the blueprint of the Pudong B-07 plot on the desk, making it look bleached.
Four cigarette butts were already piled in the ashtray, and a fifth Hongtashan cigarette was held between Chen Zhiyuan's index and middle fingers, the ash long enough to break off at any moment.
The black rotary phone on the desk rang. The ringing exploded sharply in the quiet office. Chen Zhiyuan glanced at the wall clock—10:12 at night.
He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray and reached for the receiver. "I am Chen Zhiyuan."
A low, distinctly bureaucratic male voice came from the receiver.
After hearing the other party's identity clearly, Chen Zhiyuan's fingers tightened around the receiver.
He sat up straight, his left hand unconsciously reaching for the pen on the desk.
"Yes, leader. I took them to two plots this afternoon. A-03 was rejected; the Japanese side had objections regarding the sewage canal.
Finally, they spent the longest time at the B-07 plot. Their engineers took soil samples on-site, and the technical lead asked in detail about the coastline water depth and geological data."
"The intention is very clear. Wholly foreign-owned, fully funded construction, including building their own deep-water pier and supporting infrastructure.
The conditions they proposed are exclusive water usage rights and a channel dredging permit."
Chen Zhiyuan pulled a ballpoint pen from the pen holder and quickly wrote a few words on the notepad in front of him.
"Understood. The Pudong development has just started, and it really needs a benchmark.
If this investment lands, the infrastructure boost brought by their self-built pier and roads alone—the development progress of the entire Waigaoqiao area could be advanced by at least three to five years."
"Yes." Chen Zhiyuan put down the pen, looking at the eight characters he had just written on the notepad—*Handle special cases with special procedures, and act with flexibility*.
"Don't worry, leader. In tomorrow's formal negotiations, I will provide the maximum flexibility without touching the national bottom line. I have a good idea of the land lease price and duration."
"Understood. I will report back as soon as there is a result."
Chen Zhiyuan placed the receiver back on the base. The office fell silent again.
Outside the window, the sound of tugboat whistles from the distant Huangpu River drifted in—one long, one short—sounding exceptionally empty in the night.
He leaned back into his chair and pulled another Hongtashan from the cigarette pack.
The lighter's flame flickered twice, illuminating the thoughtful lines on his face.
He took a deep drag. The smoke rose slowly toward the dim fluorescent lamp on the ceiling.
A benchmark project. A stabilizing force. Multi-departmental joint escort.
He looked down at the eight characters on the notepad and drew a heavy line underneath them with his pen.
At tomorrow's negotiating table, the Japanese side will definitely make an issue of the foundation costs.
That steward—every number he recorded on-site today will become ammunition for price suppression.
But he wasn't without cards in his hand either.
Five hundred and twenty mu of contiguous industrial land, independent coastline, independent water area—looking across the entire Yangtze River Delta, only Pudong can offer these conditions.
If the Japanese really went to Thailand or Malaysia, they could get cheap labor, but they would never get a domestic sales market of 1.2 billion people.
Concessions are possible. But for every cent conceded, we must get something of equal value in return from them—infrastructure commitments, export foreign exchange earning ratios, local employment quotas, and technology transfer clauses.
Chen Zhiyuan stubbed out his cigarette and pulled over the blueprint of the B-07 plot.
He took a red pencil from the drawer and marked a new figure on the northern coastline of the plot.
Then he wrote a line of small text next to it: "Pier construction standard—no lower than a thirty-thousand-ton berth."
He stared at this line of text for two seconds, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.
A yacht. A five-thousand-ton yacht.
Chen Zhiyuan shook his head and stuck the red pencil back into the pen holder.
No matter if that ship ends up being a yacht or a cargo ship, as long as the pier is built, it will be Pudong's pier.