Back to 1958: Creating a Century-Long Family Empire

Chapter 65: The First Overseas Order

As a practical businessman, Yang Wendong didn't like owing favors. In business, the best relationships were always those built on mutual benefit. That was the key to sustainable, long-term partnerships.

In chaotic Hong Kong society, Yang didn't mind occasionally offering some benefits to certain officials or even local gangs — as long as everyone could profit together, that was fine by him.

But Elena was a rare exception.

He had learned from Brian that Elena had been a nun ever since graduating, had no children, and had even given away all her wealth during World War II to help impoverished British families. Because of that, she was later granted a government position in Hong Kong.

People like her — who genuinely refused bribes — were a rarity. And frankly, dealing with someone so righteous made Yang feel a bit uncomfortable. He wasn't used to it.

After a moment of thought, Elena said, "Alright then. I'll donate this money to the orphanage."

"Up to you," Yang replied with a nod. He genuinely respected this elder who had dedicated her life to charity.

Elena smiled. "Well then, I'll be heading off. If you need a translator again, give me a call. Or I can introduce you to a Chinese friend of mine who speaks excellent English — he's a schoolteacher."

"A teacher? Does he teach English?" Yang asked.

"Yes," Elena replied. "He teaches English at a secondary school."

"Could you please connect us? I do need a translator sometimes, but more importantly, I need an English teacher."

Before, he had been slowly self-studying English. It wasn't urgent since most of his business was still domestic.

But now that foreign trade had become part of the equation — especially as exports were likely to become his main focus — learning English was essential. Relying on others for translation was inefficient and made it harder to build rapport with foreign clients.

Elena nodded. "True, your English is… a bit rough. I'll contact him and let you know."

"OK. Thanks." Yang smiled.

When they reached a street corner, Yang flagged down a rickshaw. Elena said, "No need to spend the money — I don't live far."

Yang grinned. "We're helping the rickshaw driver earn a living."

"You're sneaky," Elena laughed as she climbed in.

Yang didn't catch another ride himself. It wasn't about saving money — he just wanted to walk for a bit, to think things over and reflect on the future of his business.

…

Back at the factory, Yang immediately called for Zhao Liming and asked him to select the ten best-looking, highest-quality mouse and fly glue boards.

"Dong-ge, do you think that foreigner can really bring us big orders?" Zhao Liming asked while carefully shrink-wrapping a bundle of twenty boards.

Yang smiled. "Theoretically, yes. The UK is huge — the rat population there must be many times that of Hong Kong.

But for now, it's just potential. It's not easy to distribute a product like ours quickly in Britain, unless George already has direct channels for similar items."

"Didn't you say he has some?" Zhao asked.

"He probably does — but how comprehensive they are is another question." Yang explained, "Daily-use products like these often don't have patents. That means anyone can manufacture them, with only minor differences in materials or design.

A trader dealing in general goods usually won't have connections to every corner of the retail landscape — unless they operate on a massive scale. And those large-scale players wouldn't bother working with us."

"I see. Well, I hope this deal works out. Sales of the mouse glue boards have really dropped," Zhao said.

"Yeah. There's no helping it. Hong Kong's market just isn't big enough." Yang nodded, sighing inwardly.

Small markets made manufacturing-based businesses incredibly difficult. He had known this truth in his previous life.

But back then, he had lived in mainland China, and when he started his business, the economy was booming. He had never experienced the pain of market saturation.

Now, after just over a month of sales, the factory had sold tens of thousands of glue boards — and hit saturation. Sales were sharply declining, settling into a low plateau.

Fortunately, the demand for flypaper was much more stable. And An Yongqiang's customers — primarily various cargo ships — ensured the factory could keep operating for the time being.

Zhao grinned. "Still, you're really something, Dong-ge. The flypaper is taking off. I checked — demand for this stuff is steady. You can never really get rid of all the flies."

"In this case, the persistence of flies is actually a good thing for us," Yang chuckled. "But flies cause less damage than rats, so flypaper isn't considered an essential product in many situations."

"Right," Zhao agreed. "Nothing's perfect. If the flypaper sales drop off too, then my guys will just go help Haoyu with the pest control services."

"That works too. That side of the business always needs people," Yang said. "The only reason I've been pushing so hard to secure pest control contracts with office buildings is because I'm worried about declining factory sales."

The glue board products were good — but there was no guarantee they could be exported quickly. If overseas expansion failed and the local market was saturated, his factory would be in trouble.

Unless he had no other choice, he didn't want to lay anyone off. That's why he had shifted to offering low-priced pest control services to government offices, warehouses, and factories — emulating future pest control companies. It was his second business track, and a profitable one in its own right.

"All done," Zhao said, sealing the last package.

"Great. Let's take it to Smith's hotel together," Yang said.

…

"This stuff is really sticky," George Smith said with a smile as he tested one of the mouse glue boards in the hotel room.

"As long as something gets stuck, it won't escape. Same with the flypaper — once they land, the flies are trapped," Yang said.

"Alright. I'll have my partners in the UK start pushing this in the market immediately. If things go smoothly, I should have feedback for you in just over a week," George replied.

"Great. I'll be waiting for your good news," Yang said with a grin.

…

On the way back, Zhao Liming looked surprised and asked, "Dong-ge, I didn't know you could speak English."

"Speak what?" Yang scoffed. "Even if you couldn't understand a word, you could still tell how bad I was."

Their conversation with Smith had been just slightly better than playing charades — mostly gestures and a handful of key words.

Zhao laughed. "Still impressive."

"I've already found a teacher. I'm learning English — and you guys need to focus on learning Chinese," Yang replied.

"Got it," Zhao said with a nod.

…

For the next two weeks, Yang spent nearly all his non-working hours studying English. Meanwhile, Zhao Liming and the others were busy learning Chinese characters and basic math.

Everyone was busy. July had arrived.

One day, Su Yiyi knocked on the office door and came in. "Dong-ge, there's a registered airmail letter from the UK."

"Give it to me," Yang said, quickly setting down his English textbook. He opened the envelope, read its contents, and smiled.

"Our first overseas order has arrived."

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