Back to 1958: Creating a Century-Long Family Empire

Chapter 26 – Dual Contracts

In the days that followed, Zhao Liming and the rest of the team continued with their assigned responsibilities, servicing the twelve warehouses under Wendong's management.

Meanwhile, Yang Wendong was busy with a different task—client acquisition.

Armed with signed agreements from existing clients and a couple of strong letters of recommendation, he began reaching out to new warehouses in surrounding districts.

The results?

Mixed.

He successfully signed nine new warehouse contracts, pushing his reach and reputation to new levels. But he was also rejected by dozens—forty or fifty, easily. Some flat-out ignored him; others never let him speak to a decision-maker.

But Yang wasn't discouraged. In fact, a 20% conversion rate in business was already considered excellent—especially in a market where rats were a universal problem.

Still, his biggest concern wasn't rejection.

It was what Elena had warned him about.

According to her, a number of connected individuals with ties to the colonial government had already started forming their own pest control companies. Official exterminators, with access to the political pipeline.

Elena hadn't known their exact identities, but the mere fact they existed was enough to raise alarm bells.

Then, one afternoon, Zhao Liming came running in with news.

"Brother Dong! Someone's trying to poach me."

"Oh?" Yang raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "That was quick. Who was it?"

Liming sat down, catching his breath. "Some guy—looked about thirty. Caught me at the gate of the Henry Warehouse. Said he was from a new pest control company and offered me 80 dollars a month to join them."

Yang chuckled. "They found you fast, huh?"

"Yeah," Liming said, annoyed. "He tried to talk me into it right there. Said they're looking for 'experienced exterminators' and that their company has government backing. I ignored him."

"That tells me a few things," Yang said thoughtfully. "First, they've realized this business isn't easy to pull off. Second, they now know that without skilled people, their model is useless."

In a world without internet or standardized training, learning even basic skills took enormous time and effort. Cooking, for example, was simple in theory—but how many could actually cook well without practice?

The same went for rat control. The traps themselves—whether cages, snap traps, or the bamboo tubes Yang had developed—weren't new inventions. They'd existed for centuries.

But still, rats were a centuries-old problem.

And without real field knowledge, any pest control effort quickly collapsed after a short spike of success.

"I'm not worried about myself, or Yiyi, or Haoyu," Liming continued. "But the others… the newer guys? If someone waves money in front of them, they might jump ship."

"True," Yang nodded. "Even though we've stopped teaching the full methods, they've been watching us daily. If they're smart, they'll eventually figure things out."

Liming sighed. "And those people definitely have more money than we do."

Yang nodded again. "Which means, we don't try to stop them."

"What?" Liming blinked. "Why not?"

Yang leaned back and smiled. "Did that guy give you a business card?"

"Yeah, actually," Liming said, pulling it from his pocket. "Told me to call when I was ready. Not that it'd matter—we don't even own a phone."

Yang glanced at the card. It had a printed name:

Wang Zhixian

Operations Manager – Hong Kong Central Pest Control Co.

"Let's find a public phone," Yang said casually. "Time to make a call."

Public telephones were common in commercial districts but rarely used by the poor. For many, even the cost of a local call was too much. And if you wanted to receive a call, you'd have to prearrange the time and wait at the booth.

They found a phone booth near a busy bus stop. After waiting in line, Yang finally stepped inside.

It was one of those vintage rotary dial phones—just like the ones in those black-and-white dramas.

He stared at the dial for a few seconds, then figured it out.

"Brrrr... brrrr..." The line clicked.

"Hello, may I speak to Mr. Wang Zhixian?" Yang asked.

"Please hold," said a young woman on the other end.

A few moments later, a deeper male voice answered. "Who is this?"

"You met one of my colleagues today. You offered him a job," Yang said pleasantly.

"Oh," Wang said with a chuckle. "And why are you the one calling? Where is he?"

"Well, to be more accurate, I'm his boss," Yang replied calmly.

There was a pause on the line.

"I see," Wang said slowly. "So why are you calling?"

"I'd like to meet," Yang said. "Face-to-face."

"With our boss?" Wang asked, clearly suspicious. "That's not happening."

"Then with you."

There was another pause. Then Wang replied, "Alright. Name the place and time."

"Tomorrow at ten in the morning. Cloud Café on Ying Wah Road, Tsim Sha Tsui," Yang said. "See you there."

He hung up.

Outside, Liming looked confused. "Brother Dong… aren't they our competitors? Why would you meet with them?"

Yang smiled. "Because there's business to be done."

Then he added with a grin, "Also, not bad—'competitors' is a big word. You've been studying."

Liming grinned. "Still learning from the best."

…

The next morning, 9:45 a.m. sharp, Yang and Liming were already at Cloud Café, both dressed in neatly pressed shirts.

Their clothes weren't expensive—but they weren't shabby either. Yang had made a point to upgrade everyone's wardrobe slightly. Not because they needed to look fancy—but because, in business, first impressions mattered.

By ten o'clock, Wang Zhixian arrived.

"Mr. Wang," Yang greeted him with a formal handshake.

Wang was around thirty, clean-cut, and clearly well-funded. But he also had the look of someone still finding his way.

"Yang Wendong," Wang said, sitting down. "I've heard a lot about you. I even did some research. Impressive—starting from the shantytown and building a client base like this. I'll admit, I'm impressed."

"You flatter me," Yang said humbly. "I'm just trying to survive."

Truthfully, in any society, people respected those who rose from the bottom. Even Yang had admired people like Jack Ma and Lei Jun in his past life.

Wang leaned forward. "Let's be honest. We're in the same line of work now. I'd call us competitors. So what's this meeting really about?"

Yang didn't hesitate. "I want to propose a partnership."

Wang raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"You have the connections. I have the capability. Together, we could serve many more warehouses—and do it better."

"If we don't work together," Yang continued, "you'll struggle to meet demand. And I'll struggle to scale. That's a lose-lose outcome."

Wang considered this carefully. Then he asked, "So... are you proposing to subcontract our already contracted warehouses?"

Yang's answer was interrupted—

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