Chapter 128: Oh Money, I Wish You Would Just Fall from the Sky

Under the shimmering starry sky, the train roared along the tracks.

Having spent less than a day in Shenzhen, Wang Qiang was already rushing back to Shanghai on the train. The grueling journey, traveling day and night, had left him utterly exhausted; he wished he had someone to take turns with. He was not yet ready to reveal his source of goods, so he couldn't trust anyone else, unless his father arrived in Shanghai soon.

Counting the days, his letter should have reached Shanxi by now, though he had no idea when his father would arrive. With these thoughts swirling, he drifted into a deep sleep.

One hour...
Five hours...

He didn't know how long he slept, but when he awoke, the train had reached Shangrao. He went to the restroom, washed up, grabbed a bite to eat, and fell back into a dreamless slumber.

He was just too tired. Even an iron-willed body couldn't withstand constant travel, let alone Wang Qiang’s, which was still in a phase of rapid growth. While he possessed great vigor, his physical endurance was not yet fully forged.

...

When he woke again, the train had entered the outskirts of Shanghai.

Half an hour later, the train pulled into the station. Wang Qiang, dragging his suitcase and feeling completely worn out, squeezed into the bustling crowd toward the exit. The station was filled with all sorts of people—some laughing and chatting loudly, others looking around in confusion, seemingly in Shanghai for the first time. In particular, a middle-aged woman struggling with many suitcases while carrying a child in her arms kept calling out, "Excuse me, excuse me," terrified that someone might bump into them.

Seeing this, Wang Qiang stepped forward to clear a path for her until they reached the exit. The woman thanked him gratefully before disappearing into the crowd.

Just as he had done before, Wang Qiang tore up the shipping receipt and called Old Yao to bring the minivan to pick up the cargo. Before long, Old Yao and Old Zhu arrived. The three of them loaded the goods into the van and headed straight for Qiujiang Road.

In the van, despite having slept for over forty hours, Wang Qiang couldn't stop yawning. Old Zhu, sitting in the passenger seat, turned back and asked with concern, "Little Wang, are you alright?"

Wang Qiang felt his whole body go limp, but he put on a brave face and muttered, "I'm fine, just a bit sleepy."

Old Yao, who was driving, said, "Go get some sleep as soon as we finish delivering the goods."

Wang Qiang hummed in agreement, leaning against the side of the van, too tired to even move.

Suddenly, Old Zhu chimed in, "Old Yao and I have looked into the matter of registering the company."

"Oh?" Wang Qiang forced himself to perk up and look over.

Old Zhu smacked his lips and said, "We checked out a few office spaces nearby—some fifty square meters, some eighty, and some around a hundred. The monthly rent isn't too expensive; we were just waiting for you to come back and decide which one to choose."

If it were too small, it wouldn't make a great impression on potential clients; if it were too big, it would be a waste. Wang Qiang considered it for a moment and replied, "Let’s go with the eighty-square-meter one."

"It’s 0.19 per square meter per day, so eighty square meters will be about four hundred and fifty or sixty yuan a month," Old Yao noted, his bookkeeping clear. "However, the landlord requires six months' rent upfront, plus the deposit and other miscellaneous fees, so we can secure it for around three thousand yuan."

Wang Qiang didn't have the energy to talk much and listened silently. Three thousand yuan was no problem; it wasn't a large sum.

But what Old Yao said next involved real money.

He continued, "After we rent the office, we'll need to renovate it ourselves. During the renovation, we can go to the Administration for Industry and Commerce to register the company. First, we need to determine the legal representative. Little Wang, you haven't turned eighteen yet, so you probably can't be the legal representative, right?"

Wang Qiang blinked and asked, "How do I recall that if you're over sixteen but under eighteen and your main source of income is your own labor, you can apply to serve as a legal representative?"

Old Yao gave a dry laugh. "Is that so? I’m not really sure."

Sure enough, he had to be cautious with this guy. Being a legal representative wasn't something just anyone could do, as the representative held the power to act on behalf of the company and sign legal documents. For instance, they had to sign authorization documents for company matters or make public statements on behalf of the company in newspapers.

That wasn't even the most critical part. The crucial thing was that when the legal representative signed a contract on behalf of the company, it often served as the condition for the contract to take effect. If the company wanted to issue bonds or stocks, it had to be signed by the legal representative and stamped with the company seal. Not to mention presiding over shareholder meetings and board meetings.

Therefore, Wang Qiang couldn't let Old Yao be the legal representative. He had already decided that the role would be either his or his father's—at the very least, it had to be under his own control.

To hide his awkwardness, Old Yao changed the subject. "To open the company, we need to open a bank account and deposit at least one hundred thousand yuan to get a capital verification report from the bank, which we then take to the Administration for Industry and Commerce. However, the process for the business license takes about thirty-five days, which means we can't touch that one hundred thousand yuan during that time."

"I know," Wang Qiang replied.

Old Zhu was smoking and said nothing.

Wang Qiang, however, was calculating in his head. If one hundred thousand yuan couldn't be touched for a while, then after factoring in the money earned from Cheng Weihong and the others, plus the eighty thousand he, Old Yao, and Old Zhu had pooled together, once the registered capital was deducted, there would only be about fifty thousand yuan left for working capital.

If business went well later, fifty thousand plus the deposits might not even be enough to purchase inventory. Thinking of this, he felt a headache coming on. He didn't have much spare cash, yet the company formation had reached a point of no return. Why did it feel like the more money he made, the less he had to spend?

The part that gave Wang Qiang a headache was still to come.

Old Yao spoke again, "I've calculated that after registering the company and renovating the office, we might only have forty thousand yuan left. That won't be enough for future inventory, so Old Zhu and I discussed it—should we put in some more money before the company starts?"

Wang Qiang asked, "How much more do we need to put in?"

Old Yao suggested, "Let's each put in another thirty thousand yuan. The shareholding stays the same. What do you think?"

He had already squeezed twenty thousand out of Old Yao before; if he pushed for more, it wouldn't be very honorable, and Old Yao certainly wouldn't be happy about it—he wasn't a fool.

Wang Qiang silently calculated his own finances. After buying the bedding sets, he had about twenty-seven thousand left. After the twenty thousand he put into the three-way partnership, he had less than eight thousand remaining. With the five thousand he’d received from Sister Xu on this trip, he only had about thirteen thousand in total. How could he possibly come up with thirty thousand?

Yet, Old Yao’s proposal for increasing capital wasn't wrong. If the company wanted to grow, it needed sufficient funds.

Wang Qiang felt a wave of helplessness. He had too little cash on hand. If he didn't contribute, he would likely have to give up his shares, which was absolutely unacceptable. He had proposed the project and done the hard work of sourcing the goods; it wouldn't make sense for him not to hold the majority stake.

He frowned slightly and asked, "Thirty thousand? When do we need to have it ready by?"

Old Yao thought for a moment. "You decide. Just as long as it doesn't delay the inventory before the company opens."

That gave him a little time.

Wang Qiang thought carefully. It seemed the only way was to hope the bedding sets sold well; otherwise, coming up with thirty thousand in such a short time was unrealistic.

Distractedly discussing the company details with them, they soon arrived at Qiujiang Road.

...

Electronic Digital Building.

The three of them intentionally carried some of the goods up in front of everyone. They couldn't move it all in one trip; it would likely take three.

However, as soon as they moved the first load to the second floor, Cheng Weihong jumped up from behind his counter and hurried over. "Why did you bring the goods directly here?" He frowned and looked around, noticing the curious stares from many people, and quickly lowered his voice. "Next time you deliver goods, give me a call in advance, or I'll come to your place to pick them up."

Old Yao, being rather mischievous, pretended not to understand. "We were just afraid of wasting your time," he said with an 'oh' of feigned innocence.

Cheng Weihong was left speechless. He looked at Old Yao with annoyance, ignored him, and turned to Wang Qiang. "Little Boss Wang, about what I said just now..."

Wang Qiang, sporting dark circles under his eyes, yawned and said, "I know, I'll call you in advance next time."

Cheng Weihong was satisfied with that. He let the three of them move the goods into the storage room in the back and even went down to help them carry the rest of the cargo up. With an extra pair of hands, the work went much faster.

Before long, they were finished. The four stood around the counter.

Wang Qiang didn't waste any time and asked directly, "What about the payment?"

"It's been ready for a while." Cheng Weihong, his earlier frustration gone, smiled and led the three of them into the storage room.

Inside, Cheng Weihong took a leather bag from behind the door and pulled out a thick stack of cash. "I gave you a deposit of thirty thousand five hundred before. Here is the remaining one hundred twenty-two thousand. You count it."

Neither Old Yao nor Old Zhu reached for the money. Wang Qiang knew they were signaling that he was the leader, which he appreciated. He took the money and began counting it bill by bill, asking, "Brother Cheng, do you need to order more goods?"

Cheng Weihong pulled out a pack of Hongtashan cigarettes and offered them around, smacking his lips. "Not for now, but in a week or so I might need more. We're running low on the single-cassette players."

"...Fifteen, sixteen... fine," Wang Qiang replied, continuing to count. The first time through, he found he was one hundred yuan short. He counted again, and this time it was correct; he had miscounted earlier. Only then did he pack the money into his suitcase.

The four left the storage room.

Wang Qiang bid him farewell. "Brother Cheng, we have things to do, so we'll be heading off. See you later."

Cheng Weihong waved. "Alright, I'll call you if anything comes up."

Having just received the payment, Wang Qiang felt a bit more spirited. He chatted with Old Zhu and Old Yao as they headed toward the stairs.

Perhaps Old Zhu was too excited, for as soon as they reached the stairwell, he suggested, "Shall we go to the bank now to open an account, deposit the money, and get the capital verification report?"

Old Yao agreed, "Yes, there's no time like the present. I remember there's an Industrial and Commercial Bank nearby; it's just a few steps away."

Seeing how eager they were, Wang Qiang couldn't refuse, though his heart ached—the money he had just received hadn't even warmed up in his pocket before it had to be sent to the bank.

But now that they were committed to opening the company, the capital had to be paid in. Besides, he had already agreed to the company formation, and it wouldn't be good to back out now. He had no choice but to accompany them to the bank.

Actually, depositing one hundred thousand wasn't the issue. The real problem was that he still needed to contribute thirty thousand to the company, and he simply didn't have that kind of money. He was worried, not knowing what to do.

Money, oh money—you’d better start falling from the sky.