Chapter 110: Here’s to a Pleasant Collaboration (Please Leave a Recommendation Vote)

Signing an agreement in the shopping mall was not ideal. Cheng Weihong exchanged a greeting with the middle-aged woman at the neighboring counter, then led Wang Qiang and the others out of the building.

Not far away stood a small teahouse. The ten-character couplet at the entrance had a refreshing charm: "Fragrant flowers grace a thousand hills in green, tea wafts its scent for ten thousand miles." Even though it was still morning, the sight of the couplet gave Wang Qiang an urge to step inside and have a cup.

The teahouse had a weathered exterior wall and a roof covered in broken tiles, yet business was brisk; people were coming and going constantly. The group walked inside. A landlady in her forties, still possessing a lingering charm, stepped forward to welcome them. The seven or eight of them slowly made their way up a small nanmu staircase.

On the second floor, a few scattered individuals in formal attire were seated at various tables, drinking tea and discussing business. Wang Qiang glanced around, then turned his attention away, following the landlady to a small round table by the window.

Cheng Weihong ordered a pot of black oolong tea. They did not dive into the details immediately, instead chatting and laughing about the history of the Qiujiang Road street. Before long, the tea arrived. Cheng Weihong, a man who knew how to handle social situations, took the initiative to pour for everyone.

Wang Qiang picked up his cup and took a small sip. It was quite good, with a refreshing quality that seemed to soothe the heart and spleen; a faint fragrance lingered on his palate. It was fine tea.

A young boss remarked, "Quite mellow."

Cheng Weihong smacked his lips and said, "Lacks a bit of fresh sweetness. It’s a bit more bitter than before; the quality has dipped." It was clear they were regulars.

"Brother Cheng, shall we discuss the details?" Wang Qiang asked.

The group quieted down. Cheng Weihong set down his cup and hummed, "You said you could provide between ten and twenty thousand units, right?"

Wang Qiang nodded. "That's correct."

Cheng Weihong rested his chin on his right hand, looking thoughtful. "Actually, there isn't much to negotiate. At thirty-eight per unit, five hundred units come to nineteen thousand. Let's start with five hundred." He then added earnestly, "I’ll speak plainly: if the goods you bring are of poor quality, we won't accept them."

Old Zhu joked, "Little Wang and I wouldn't bring you poor quality goods; that would be too unscrupulous. If the quality were bad, you wouldn't need to say anything—I’d throw them into the Suzhou Creek myself."

Old Xiao and the other bosses chuckled, knowing Old Zhu was joking. But his interjection lightened the mood considerably.

Wang Qiang smiled. "Brother Zhu is right. I’d rather throw substandard products into the water than ruin my own reputation." He moved to the main point. "Since we've decided, let’s sign the agreement to confirm the price of nineteen thousand for five hundred units. Of course, you can add a clause stating that if you aren't satisfied, you can refuse the shipment. But if you do accept the goods, the payment must be settled in full on the spot. Is that acceptable?"

Without even consulting the other bosses, Cheng Weihong agreed immediately. "No problem."

"I have no objections."

"Let’s add that clause to the agreement."

"Yes, Brother Cheng, you sign on our behalf." The other bosses all expressed their approval.

Wang Qiang dared to offer the refusal clause because he knew that as long as the quality wasn't abysmal, these men wouldn't be willing to abandon such a cheap supply chain.

The agreement was informal, written on paper torn from one of Cheng Weihong’s ledger notebooks. It essentially stated that Wang Qiang would deliver five hundred portable cassette players within a week, and upon inspection of the quality, the payment would be settled in full. After it was written, both sides reviewed it. Cheng Weihong signed first, followed by Wang Qiang, who picked up a fountain pen and solemnly wrote his own name.

With the signatures complete, both parties kept a copy. Wang Qiang stood up, smiling as he extended his hand. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Cheng Weihong shook his hand, his mood lifting. "Pleasure doing business."

The first collaboration was a success. It hadn't exceeded his control, and Wang Qiang let out a long sigh of relief.

...

Leaving the teahouse, the two parties went their separate ways. Wang Qiang and Old Zhu thanked Old Xiao and arranged to have a meal together in a few days before heading to the bike shed for their motorcycle. After finding it amidst a sea of bicycles, they moved the bikes aside to clear a path.

Old Zhu pulled out his keys, started the engine, and said, "Little Wang, the contract is settled. Do you have enough money for the purchase?"

Wang Qiang paused, calculating in his head. If he went directly to the factory, at twenty yuan per unit, five hundred units would cost ten thousand yuan; shipping costs were negligible. Last time he returned home, he had twelve thousand eight hundred in his pocket. After paying off debts, visiting his elders, buying cigarettes for Secretary Li and Mayor Zhang, leaving money for his mother, and paying for Lu Wei’s salary and the rent deposit, he had a little over eighty-five hundred left. But he had earned thirty-two hundred from Old Yao’s deposit, meaning he actually had eleven thousand seven hundred at his disposal. Paying for five hundred units was certainly not a problem.

The key was that since he was partnering with Old Zhu on a 70/30 split, Old Zhu would definitely need to contribute thirty percent of the cost.

After a brief moment of thought, Wang Qiang gripped Old Zhu’s shoulder and climbed onto the back of the motorcycle. "It’s enough."

Old Zhu started the bike. "How much should I give you?"

The motorcycle puttered to life and began to roll forward. Wang Qiang had a figure in mind, but to be safe, he padded it slightly. "Give me four thousand first. I'll show you the receipts when I return with the goods, and we can settle the difference then."

Old Zhu was in high spirits. "Alright, I'll give it to you when we get back."

A cool autumn breeze blew against them. As they left the banks of the Suzhou Creek, the motorcycle picked up speed. The greenery on both sides of the road blurred as they sped past. Wang Qiang felt exceptionally good; partnering with Old Zhu was clearly the right choice. Last time, he had brought back one hundred units from Shenzhen and struggled for days to sell them all. Now, Old Zhu had used his connections to reach merchants and easily secured a deal for five hundred units. Although the wholesale price was much lower than retail, he no longer had to worry about finding buyers.

At the factory price of twenty yuan per unit from Weijia Electronics, five hundred units would net Wang Qiang and Old Zhu nine thousand yuan. Even with Wang Qiang’s seventy percent share, he would clear sixty-three hundred.

Yes, sixty-three hundred might seem less than what he would earn selling them alone, but how much time would retail take? In that time, Wang Qiang figured he could have made another trip to Shenzhen. Furthermore, Cheng Weihong and his associates were not one-time customers. If this went well, future orders would be larger, and they might even expand into electronic watches or CD players, which would be far more profitable.

Truth be told, Wang Qiang was eager to finish this first order, but he knew he couldn't rush. Whether this would lead to future cooperation depended on whether Cheng Weihong and his group were satisfied with the five hundred units from Shenzhen.

...

Back at the Friendship Hostel, it was past ten in the morning. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, Wang Qiang heard the sizzle of stir-frying. Based on the aroma, it was likely chicken cubes with chili peppers.

Old Zhu shouted, "I’m starving!"

The landlady poked her head out, scolding, "You went out without breakfast? Now you know you're hungry? There’s food, come in and eat." She retreated to finish the cooking.

Wang Qiang looked at Old Zhu in surprise. "You didn't have breakfast?"

"Where would I find the time?" Old Zhu said as he walked behind the counter. "Last night I asked everyone I knew if they had a way to sell cassette players, but got no response. Then this morning, Old Xiao called to say he’d found someone. I ran over at six to get the details, and then we went to Qiujiang Road together."

So that was it. No wonder he hadn't eaten.

Wang Qiang nodded and followed him inside, feeling even more certain that partnering with Old Zhu was the right choice. He had only proposed the partnership last night, and Old Zhu had spent the night reaching out to acquaintances and skipped breakfast to follow up with Old Xiao. Such a work ethic was excellent for a partner. If it had been him, he probably wouldn't have acted until today.

Inside, the landlady was indeed stir-frying the chicken. Two stainless steel basins sat on the small round table, one with cabbage and the other with celery and dried tofu, likely lunch for the other guests.

Old Zhu, starving, didn't eat first, but instead said to the landlady, "Give me four thousand."

The landlady paused, glancing over with a frown. "What do you need so much money for?"

Old Zhu grinned. "What do you think? To buy inventory."

The landlady immediately looked pleased. "It’s a done deal?"

"Of course. Who do you think your husband is?" Old Zhu boasted before adding with a laugh, "Actually, it was mostly thanks to Little Wang today. He had those people completely captivated. Haha."

Wang Qiang laughed. "That’s not true, don't listen to Brother Zhu."

The three chatted and laughed. Before long, the landlady finished the chicken. Wang Qiang helped bring over a clean stainless steel basin for her to put the food in.

Old Zhu, squatting in the corner to scoop rice, asked, "Little Wang, want some?"

Wang Qiang placed the basin on the small table and shook his hands, which were hot from the dish. "Sure, I'll have some. After we eat, we’ll go get the money and then head out to pick up the goods."

"In such a hurry?" The landlady wiped her hands on her apron. "You two eat; I’ll go get the bankbook and withdraw the money."

To avoid being intrusive, Wang Qiang went outside. One shouldn't watch when someone else is getting their bankbook. When the landlady returned, he went back in, and he and Old Zhu began their late breakfast. He was still growing, and seeing Old Zhu wolfing down his food, Wang Qiang realized he was truly hungry.

They ate and chatted. Soon, they were finished, and Old Zhu took the bowls to wash. While they waited for the landlady to return, they passed the time with idle conversation.

Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. About forty minutes passed.

Then, familiar footsteps sounded outside. The landlady rushed in, drenched in sweat. Wang Qiang noticed she took a careful look toward the hallway as she entered.

"I got the money," she said, carefully pulling a stack of cash from her pocket and handing it to Old Zhu.

Old Zhu replied impatiently, "Why give it to me? Just give it to Little Wang."

The landlady rolled her eyes. "You’re the one in business with Little Wang, not me. Of course you should give it to him."

Wang Qiang admired this. Despite how she usually scolded Old Zhu, she was very careful to give him face in matters like this. Old Zhu, however, was a bit unappreciative, muttering, "You're so fussy."

"Zhu Rongxing! What did you say?" The landlady glared. "Are you getting arrogant?"

Whenever she used his full name, Old Zhu would shrink back. This time was no exception. He ducked his head and laughed sheepishly. "Nothing, nothing." He then took the money and handed it to Wang Qiang. "Little Wang, count it to make sure it's right."

Wang Qiang watched the couple with interest and took the money. "Alright, I'll count it."

One... eleven... thirty-five...

After a moment, it was confirmed: exactly four thousand yuan in hundred-yuan bills. Wang Qiang organized the money and looked up. "Do you have paper and a pen? I’ll write you a receipt."

Old Zhu waved him off. "What receipt? We’re brothers."

Wang Qiang said seriously, "Friends are friends, but when it comes to money, it’s better to be precise. That’s how a partnership lasts."

The landlady pointed at Old Zhu. "You see? Even Little Wang is clearer about this than you. I’ll go get the paper and pen." She turned toward the counter.

Once she returned, Wang Qiang used a ballpoint pen to write a proper receipt.

The deal was struck. The funds were secured. Old Zhu, as a partner, had proven himself capable and reliable. Everything, Wang Qiang felt, was moving in the right direction. He wanted to fly to Shenzhen immediately—though he couldn't afford to; flying was a luxury, and the tickets were too expensive. Actually, this year was better; in previous years, you needed an "introduction letter" just to buy a ticket, but the government had abolished that system in 1993.