Back to 1958: Creating a Century-Long Family Empire

Chapter 54 – Hongxing Plastics Factory

Zhao Liming explained, "I asked around at several places, but all their quotes were high. Later, I invited a purchasing agent for a meal and found out the reason.

"First, all the wood used in Hong Kong comes from the mainland. But lately, mainland exports have declined sharply, so wood prices have spiked.

"And second, no one's ever ordered wooden boards like ours before. Many factories didn't even want the order.

If I hadn't told them we'd have long-term, high-volume orders, they probably wouldn't have even listened."

"Hmm…" Yang Wendong already had a sense of what was happening.

From this year onward, not just wood, but food prices in Hong Kong were going to rise as well.

Su Yiyi added, "Brother Dong, I've looked into it too. There are several injection molding factories nearby.

Switching from wood to plastic is going to be necessary.

"Otherwise, Liming won't be able to secure stable or affordable wood. Without that, we won't be able to scale production of the glue boards."

"Alright. I'll go check them out later today," Yang nodded.

"But in the meantime, even if wood is more expensive, let's go ahead and order 5,000 boards.

We'll just accept a lower margin temporarily.

"Plastic is cheaper in the long run, but getting the molds made takes time."

Until now, Yang had only produced glue boards for internal use.

Even the large extermination campaign at Kowloon Wharf—although technically a sale—didn't require standardized mass production.

But now that the boards were going to market, he needed consistency—whether they used wood or plastic.

Ideally, cardboard would have been the best option, but Hong Kong had no such industry at this time.

Packaging was still dominated by wooden crates.

Liming nodded. "Got it."

"Alright, everyone back to your roles," Yang instructed.

"Yiyi, come with me. And bring my business cards."

Until recently, Yang hadn't approached injection molding factories.

Without a factory of his own, anyone would have doubted his legitimacy—or assumed he was a scammer.

In this era, doing business in Hong Kong usually required a guarantor—either another merchant, a lawyer, or someone with a good reputation.

Of course, you could always throw cash around to make deals happen.

But Yang hadn't had that kind of money until now.

The location of Changxing Industrial was somewhat remote, but there were still several small factories nearby—including a plastics manufacturer.

In 1958, Hong Kong's manufacturing foundation was built on metalworking, low-end textiles, and basic plastics—similar to mainland China in the 1980s.

Factories relied on cheap labor and basic literacy to do basic OEM work.

Yang and Su Yiyi didn't have to walk far. The factory they were visiting was less than a kilometer away.

As they approached the building, Su Yiyi frowned at the dirty white wall, where the crooked words "Hongxing Plastics Factory" were painted.

"Brother Dong… this place doesn't look very promising," she said hesitantly.

After nearly half a year of following Yang, her vocabulary had grown.

She no longer struggled to form coherent opinions, as she once had.

Yang smiled. "Well, we're not exactly promising either, are we?

So it makes sense we'd work with suppliers who are just like us—rough around the edges, but capable."

"Oh… I guess that makes sense," Su Yiyi said, accepting the logic.

There was no guard at the gate.

As they entered, they saw wires strung between trees, used as makeshift clotheslines.

Men's and women's clothing hung side by side—proof that people were living inside the factory.

Much like Yang and his team, these people treated the workplace as their only home.

After asking around, they were pointed to the factory owner's office.

The door was open.

Inside sat a middle-aged man in a stained work uniform, poring over some papers—or maybe a book.

Knock knock knock!

The sound of knuckles on wood made him look up.

When he saw the young man and woman at the door, he said, "You looking for work? Sorry, business is slow—we're not hiring."

Yang didn't step inside. He remained at the door and said politely,

"Mr. Li, we're not job seekers. We're from a company nearby.

We're looking for a plastics factory to partner with."

"Oh? Then come in," the man said, standing up and walking over.

He grabbed a business card from his desk and met them in the middle of the room.

"I'm Li Hongxing," he said with a smile. "Looks like you already know a bit about me."

Yang handed over his own card. "I'm Yang Wendong, general manager of Changxing Pest Control Company."

"General manager?" Li looked surprised. "You don't look older than twenty."

"Close enough," Yang replied with a grin.

His age was sometimes a disadvantage—people didn't take him seriously.

So he didn't bother hiding it anymore; vagueness was safer.

"Young and already a boss—impressive," Li said, pocketing the card.

"Come, have a seat. I'll make some tea."

"Thanks," Yang said, always courteous.

The tea wasn't great—but it was still better than plain water.

"So, Mr. Yang, what exactly do you do? 'Pest Control' sounds a bit vague."

Yang smiled. "We handle infestations—rats, insects, you name it.

I started by selling traps.

Later, I took on warehouse extermination contracts.

Now, I've opened a factory to produce a rat-catching product of our own."

"Impressive," Li said genuinely. "What you just described sounds like it took a ton of effort."

Yang smiled again. "It's been a long road—but things are finally looking up."

Success hadn't just come from luck.

His knowledge of modern pest control, combined with months of research, learning, and relationship-building, had made all the difference.

Without that combination, even stumbling into glue board production wouldn't have gotten him far.

Li nodded. "So what do you need me to make?"

Yang pulled out a hand-drawn diagram. "These boards. The dimensions are loose—you don't need precision."

Li glanced over the paper. "Looks simple. Easier than making toys."

Yang asked, "Can you make the mold in-house?"

Li shook his head. "No. But I work with someone who can."

"Good," Yang said. "Then here's what I propose:

Quote me a price for the mold and unit cost for mass production.

Each order will be at least ten thousand pieces."

Li nodded. "Give me three days—I'll get you a quote."

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