Back to 1958: Creating a Century-Long Family Empire

Chapter 27 – The First Business Negotiation

Yang Wendong nodded calmly and said, "Yes."

"I see," Wang Zhixian replied, somewhat surprised.

Yang continued, "This kind of arrangement exists in many industries. Take real estate, for example. There are so many property developers in Hong Kong—but how many of them actually build the buildings themselves? Most of it is outsourced.

"And not just once. Sometimes you have multiple layers of subcontracting. That's because each part requires a different kind of expertise. Let professionals handle what they do best."

Wang nodded. "I understand. It's just… our business is small. We're not real estate giants."

Yang smiled. "True, we're not. But the opportunity structure is different. The property market is full of players. We're in a space where there's less competition. You've got the connections, which won you the contracts. But you still need to deliver results.

"And catching rats isn't something you can do just by placing a few traps. Even if you poach my people, it'll take them time to get good. Can your clients afford to wait that long?"

Wang thought about it, then said, "I get what you're saying. You've got a solid operation. But Hong Kong only has a few hundred warehouses. It's not a massive market.

"The government wants to promote widespread extermination across warehouses, factories, and residences. But in truth, only the warehouse clients really care. The rest don't see the value.

"Our boss only got the Tsim Sha Tsui district and nearby contracts. If we split that further, I'm not sure he'll go for it."

Yang nodded. "That's understandable. But if you're willing to help make it happen, I assure you—it'll be worth your while."

Wang smiled slightly. "And what are you asking for, exactly?"

Yang answered directly. "Thirty dollars per warehouse per week."

Wang raised an eyebrow and took a sip of tea. "I heard your current warehouse clients are only paying you twenty per week."

Yang's heart tensed.

That was sensitive information. Not even Su Yiyi or Zhao Liming knew the exact pricing structure per warehouse. Only a few of his client contacts had that information.

If Wang knew that, it meant he had sources inside one of those warehouses.

But Yang didn't let it show. He replied smoothly, "Those are small warehouses. Fees vary based on size and complexity. Larger spaces require more traps, more time, more staff."

Wang paused for a moment, then said, "Let's not lock in a number yet. I'll talk to my boss."

"Of course," Yang said. "But I hope you'll run the numbers too. Think about the cost of hiring your own staff, training them, buying the traps, and managing it all. How long will that take?

"And how patient do you think your clients will be if results don't come fast?"

Wang tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. "I'll give it some serious thought.

"Mr. Yang, I have to say—I'm impressed. I hadn't considered subcontracting until now. It's an interesting approach."

Yang chuckled. "Honestly, I'm just trying to put food on the table."

Wang leaned back and looked at him thoughtfully. "Let me ask—what will you do if my company refuses to work with you?"

Yang's smile didn't fade. "Well, I doubt your company controls every warehouse in Hong Kong. If you don't work with me, I'll just approach others.

"Whoever does work with me will get the best extermination results on the market. That much, I can guarantee."

It wasn't arrogance—it was realism. If Wang's company truly had monopolistic power, Yang would be in trouble. But based on what he knew, the big fish rarely cared about small ponds.

People with real power wouldn't bother fighting over pest control.

Wang nodded slowly. "Fair enough. Got a phone number?"

Yang shook his head. "Not yet. I can't afford a landline. But I'll call you in two days."

That was the truth. He didn't have a business address or money for a phone line. He still operated like a guerrilla—cheap, fast, mobile.

Wang handed over a business card. "You know, if you really want to expand, you'll need a registered company and a phone. Without them, bigger clients won't take you seriously."

Yang nodded. "I know. I've been thinking about that lately."

In every era—even con artists needed a registered company. Otherwise, no one would trust them.

Yang could technically afford to register one now. But he couldn't afford an office. Or a receptionist. Or a phone line. Right now, the cost outweighed the benefit.

Still, the time was coming.

"I hope we can work together," Wang said, standing up and extending a hand.

"Me too," Yang replied as they shook.

After Wang left, Yang sat back down and sighed.

"Business is opportunity—and risk," he muttered. "They've already been digging into my current clients. If they weren't brand new and inexperienced, we might've lost everything."

"That serious?" Zhao Liming asked. He had remained silent through most of the meeting, listening and observing.

Yang nodded. "There's a saying in business—the market is a battlefield. And one sentence from the right person can crush everything you've built."

Liming's face darkened. "So what now?"

"Nothing we can do," Yang said. "Just keep doing our job and doing it well."

Liming paused, then asked, "Didn't you say we could find another company to work with if Wang's boss says no?"

Yang shook his head. "That was mostly for show. Realistically, we don't have the resources to move into other districts. We don't have housing, transport, or local contacts."

Unless a warehouse let them sleep on-site or agreed to subsidize travel, they couldn't expand their reach. The city's infrastructure didn't allow it. There were no minibuses here—not in the shantytown.

Not in 1958.

Liming looked worried. "So what do you think? Will they agree?"

Yang was quiet for a moment, then said, "On paper, we're their best option. We're fast, experienced, and cost-effective.

"But until it's confirmed, I can't be sure."

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