Chapter 106: I Am Destitute on Your Behalf

A modest, small round table was set with the simplest of home-cooked dishes: dry-fried green beans, braised chicken chunks, chives with scrambled eggs, and a few thin, translucent slices of steamed salted pork.

The room was instantly filled with a mouth-watering aroma.

Lu Wei busied himself, consciously moving about to fetch chairs. Before long, the group, famished from a long day, crowded around the small table, ready to eat.

At the table, Wang Qiang noticed Lu Wei eating with some restraint, so he reached out and placed a few chunks of chicken and salted pork into his bowl. "Eat more."

Lu Wei swallowed hard and nodded vigorously. "Yes, thank you, thank you." He then buried his face in his bowl and began to eat ravenously.

Old Zhu chimed in, "Eat up, young man, make yourself at home."

Lu Wei, his mouth glistening with oil, cast a grateful look toward him.

After a quick glance, Wang Qiang withdrew his gaze and looked at Old Zhu with his bowl in hand. "Brother Zhu, how has the arcade business been lately?"

Zhu Xiaofeng replied with his mouth full, "Good, so good that sometimes I don't even have time to eat."

The landlady scolded, "Swallow your food before you talk."

Zhu Xiaofeng mumbled an "oh" and fell silent.

"As long as business is good, it’s nice to earn some pocket money," Wang Qiang said, intentionally raising his tone to steer the conversation elsewhere.

Sure enough, Old Zhu, who had been gnawing on a chicken wing, chuckled. "Is earning hundreds a day just 'pocket money'?"

"Hey, Xiao Wang, do you have a way to make a fortune?" The landlady, being sharp, immediately caught the scent of money.

"Well, I have a few leads." Wang Qiang set down his chopsticks and sipped his beer.

Old Zhu became interested, abandoning the drink he had been holding to his lips. "What kind of leads?" He was straightforward by nature and spoke his mind.

The landlady, however, was more socially adept. She glanced at her husband and turned to Wang Qiang with a bright smile. "Xiao Wang, Old Zhu can't keep a secret, so don't mind him. You can't just talk about how you make money—what do they call it on TV? Right, trade secrets."

Though the landlady was a bit snobbish, her words were pleasant to hear.

Had this been before, Wang Qiang certainly wouldn't have said anything. But this time, he had come prepared, specifically intending to bring Old Zhu on board, so he was ready to speak.

"Actually, it's no secret," he said, feigning indifference. "You should all remember the Walkman I gave Xiaofeng last time, right?" Seeing the family of three nod, Wang Qiang continued, "I can source a batch of electronic products at a relatively low cost. I originally wanted to bring Brother Zhu in on it, but there's a small problem I haven't solved yet."

"What problem?" Old Zhu couldn't help but ask.

The landlady and Zhu Xiaofeng also slowed their eating, staring intently at him. Only Lu Wei remained buried in his food, as if nothing in the world mattered more than his meal.

Cooperation meant utilizing each other's resources. Wang Qiang could provide the goods, but he needed to know if Old Zhu could provide the sales channels. He couldn't be the only one putting in the effort without a return. If the other party couldn't deliver, Wang Qiang had already decided he wouldn't collaborate on the electronics—at most, he would help them out in other ways later.

It wasn't that he was heartless; it was just that in the startup phase, personal growth had to be the priority.

Wang Qiang thought for a moment and said bluntly, "I can get as much stock as I want, but the key is that I have nowhere to sell it."

As soon as he finished, Old Zhu asked, "What kind of electronic products are you talking about?"

"Electronic watches, Walkmans, game consoles, color TVs, DVD players, and audio systems—I can get all of them," Wang Qiang said with conviction. Although he hadn't checked the prices of everything, he had every reason to believe that the Shenzhen area was cheaper than near Shanghai, especially for items smuggled from developed countries, which were significantly cheaper than domestic goods.

The more technologically advanced a country, the cheaper its tech products. The reason they were expensive domestically was precisely because of the country's technological lag. Take the "Big Brother" mobile phones, for example—they cost ten or twenty thousand now, but do they function better than a modern basic phone?

No!

But how much does a basic phone cost?

The level of technological development dictates the price of goods. Shenzhen and Guangzhou were the easiest places to access products phased out by developed countries—and these "phased-out" products were often considered high-end luxury items in the domestic market.

Old Zhu asked again, "What about the prices?"

Wang Qiang pondered for a moment and answered conservatively, "A Walkman that sells for hundreds in the mall—if I source it, it might cost me dozens or a hundred. If it's a playback-only unit, the cost can be kept around thirty yuan. As for the others, there should be two or three times the profit compared to mall prices."

Old Zhu slapped his thigh. "If it's that cheap, why worry about where to sell it? If you need sales channels, leave it to me."

This was a seller's market; people worried about not having enough stock, not about selling it. Wang Qiang’s network was weak, which was why he couldn't find a market. But since Old Zhu was so confident, Wang Qiang had every reason to believe he had a way. He felt a secret sense of anticipation, curious to see what path Old Zhu would find.

The landlady, being observant, smiled and said, "If our Old Zhu can find a way to sell the goods, would you be willing to bring him along?"

Wang Qiang was very direct. "Of course, that’s no problem. But let's be clear: I want seventy percent of the profits, and the capital for the stock will be split seventy-thirty. If that's okay, we'll draw up a contract tomorrow."

Since he was doing all the work from coming up with the idea to sourcing the goods, he had to take the lion's share. Besides, even brothers must account for money clearly; not signing a contract would only lead to trouble and hurt feelings later.

Old Zhu and the landlady discussed it briefly in front of him and eventually agreed to the plan. Old Zhu even laughed, "Since we're signing a contract, why don't we set up a trading company?"

Set up a company? That sounded pretty good.

Wang Qiang's heart skipped a beat, but he immediately dismissed the idea. "We don't have that much registered capital. Let's wait until we have more money." Registering a company domestically at this time required at least one hundred thousand yuan in registered capital, and it had to be fully paid up. Where would he get that kind of money?

The dinner was very pleasant. Afterward, Old Zhu personally drove the two of them to their rented house—though Wang Qiang paid the rent to the couple.

...

The rented house was on Qinghai Road, not far from the arcade. At dusk, the three of them squeezed onto the motorcycle and arrived at an older residential complex.

After dropping them off, Old Zhu left.

On the second floor, inside the apartment, Lu Wei pointed at the bathroom in excitement. "Boss, this place is great! It even has a toilet!"

Wang Qiang sweated—was the toilet really the only thing he noticed in the whole place?

Truth be told, he was quite satisfied with the apartment himself. It was about sixty square meters, with two bedrooms, a living room, a bathroom, and a kitchen. It wasn't large, but the wall decorations were nice, covered in tiles, making it quite decent. The only drawback was that the bathroom had neither a shower nor a bathtub; to bathe, one had to boil water and sit in a wooden tub.

Wang Qiang nodded. "It's not bad. I'll boil some water, and we can wash up and get to sleep early."

Lu Wei scrambled to do the chores. "I'll boil it." He quickly grabbed a thermos to fill with water and inserted an immersion heater.

It was the first time Wang Qiang had experienced the "boss treatment"—even if it was just for daily chores, it felt pretty good.

After washing up, they each returned to their rooms to rest. The beds were already made; clearly, Lu Wei had spent a great deal of effort carrying the bedding all the way from the countryside.

...

The next day, Wang Qiang was woken up by the scent of rice porridge. He got up to find that Lu Wei had woken up early to cook it.

Wang Qiang found it quite strange—where did the rice come from? After asking, he realized Old Zhu had left a bag of rice in the kitchen.

They took out the salted melon and pickles given to them by Auntie Yu as a side dish. Lu Wei took one bite and couldn't stop praising it. "This salted melon is delicious."

Wang Qiang tasted a piece and found it salty with a hint of sweetness—it was indeed excellent, much better than the salted melon sold in supermarkets later. No wonder Grandma Fu had asked Auntie Yu for some.

After breakfast, the two walked out. After turning a corner, they arrived at the arcade.

Opening the door, the room was filled with the lingering smell of cigarette smoke from the night before.

"I'll teach you how to handle the game consoles and bookkeeping in a bit; let me open the windows first," Wang Qiang said.

Lu Wei stepped in again. "Boss, you sit down; let me handle these small things." As it turned out, he opened the windows and even swept the floor clean of the cigarette ash.

Sitting behind the counter, Wang Qiang finally understood why so many people tried everything to become bosses—the feeling was just too good.

Especially with someone as sharp as Lu Wei, who took initiative on tasks without being told, it was incredibly satisfying.

Once Lu Wei finished, Wang Qiang started teaching him how to operate the game consoles. Once he was sure Lu Wei understood, he brought him back to the counter and taught him how to keep the books, step by step.

Bookkeeping for the arcade was simple, and Lu Wei picked it up after just one lesson.

During that time, a few young men came by to play, yawning. There were no primary or middle school students to be seen, as school had already started.

Just as he was watching Lu Wei record the accounts, someone else rushed in.

Wang Qiang looked up and saw Old Yao—the childhood friend of Old Zhu who had previously asked for his help in sourcing jeans and game consoles.

"Brother Yao." Wang Qiang stood by the counter and greeted him.

Old Yao walked over, his tone not particularly pleasant. "Xiao Wang, why didn't you come find me when you got back? Do you look down on your big brother?"

Wang Qiang sweated. "No, no, I only arrived in Shanghai last night."

Old Yao said anxiously, "I've been waiting for you to come back, hoping for your return. Did you forget about the jeans and game consoles we talked about?"

Wang Qiang gave an "uh" and said, "Didn't you say you wanted to observe a bit more? I couldn't rush you if you hadn't finished your observation."

Old Yao was in high spirits. "I've observed enough. Calculate the deposit; I've brought the money." He patted the small black bag tucked under his arm.

Wang Qiang smiled. "You're really in a hurry."

"How can I not be? Your arcade is packed every day; my eyes are turning red with envy," Old Yao joked.

"Alright, how many jeans and how many game consoles do you want?" Wang Qiang asked.

"One thousand pairs of jeans, and configure the game consoles and game cartridges the same way you have them in your arcade," Old Yao replied.

Wang Qiang took out a notebook and a ballpoint pen, calculating as he scribbled. One thousand pairs of jeans at fifteen yuan each totaled fifteen thousand; twenty game consoles at one hundred fifty each was three thousand; sixty boxes of sixty standard cartridges at sixty yuan per box totaled three thousand six hundred; plus ten intelligence cartridges at one hundred each was one thousand. The total he should collect from Old Yao was twenty-two thousand six hundred yuan.

Since the agreement was for a fifty percent deposit, Old Yao should pay him 11,300 yuan today.

After confirming the figure, Wang Qiang looked up. "Eleven thousand three hundred."

"Yes. Do I pay you here or..." Old Yao asked.

Wang Qiang quickly said, "Let's go to my rented apartment." He instructed Lu Wei, "I have something to take care of; watch the shop."

Lu Wei replied, "Sure, Boss, go ahead. I've got this."

Once he had finished giving instructions, Wang Qiang took Old Yao back to the rental. He wrote out a receipt for the deposit and then clutched a handful of cash, his heart pounding.

Eleven thousand three hundred.

He had worked hard for a month previously and only had twelve thousand eight hundred in his pocket.

Now, he had made eleven thousand three hundred just like that?

Even though he knew this money was for the goods, Wang Qiang couldn't help but be excited. He knew that, in reality, a dozen jeans cost only eighty yuan, and a thousand pairs would be about eighty-four dozen, costing less than seven thousand. As for the game consoles and cartridges, based on his previous costs, it would only be around fourteen hundred. Without even waiting for the transaction to complete, he had already earned nearly thirty-two hundred yuan just from the deposit.

Indeed, one had to do business on a large scale to make real money.

Doing business with Old Yao was undoubtedly the most exciting thing that had happened to Wang Qiang in these past days—more exhilarating than earning the first ten thousand. Because with more money, he could do bigger things, like starting a company.

However, having a lot of money had one major drawback—it was easy to lose one's happiness.

Listen to what Jack Ma had to say: he was happiest when he was a teacher earning nineteen yuan a month, and he regretted creating Alibaba the most, so he tried desperately to dilute his shares, yet he still ended up with so much money.

Take Wang Jianlin of Wanda, for instance; he said with a face full of melancholy, "Apart from money, I have nothing."

One was more miserable than the other!

So, from a certain perspective, having too much money was a truly desperate thing because your happiness was gone.

But Wang Qiang really wanted to say one thing: If I don't go to hell, who will? Since the big shots don't like money—this thing that carries such heavy sin—then let it all be passed on to me to bear. Let all the sins fall upon me; I will take on the burden of having "nothing" for you.