Chapter 73: Bringing the Local Bosses into Collaboration

Dusk is a natural spectacle, and a beautiful one at that. The sun, as broad as a millstone, had gradually shrunk into a semicircle, teetering on the horizon, its rays no longer blinding as they were at noon, but growing ever more ethereal, blurred, and faint. The clouds, under the waning sunlight, shifted from flaming crimson to a softer orange-red.

The sky was painted with vibrant afterglow.

On the square, the surging crowd looked like waves rolling across the sea, all seemingly draped in a thin layer of golden attire, their shadows stretched into elongated shapes beneath the dying sun.

It was already half past five in the afternoon.

There were still a few young men lingering in front of Wang Qiang’s stall. On the cardboard display, thirteen or fourteen portable cassette players remained; over the course of a long day, he had sold twenty-six units—a decent business. Perhaps it was the last burst of excitement before the storm hit, for starting tomorrow, he would have to temporarily stop setting up his stall here, and he still had fifty-four players left with no idea where to sell them.

In theory, if he held out a little longer, he could probably sell the remaining fourteen. But he was not planning to stay—there was something more important waiting for him.

He packed up his stall, greeted the old man nearby, grabbed his suitcase, rolled up the cardboard, and tossed it into a nearby trash bin instead of taking it home as usual. Tomorrow, it would no longer be needed.

...

A gentle evening breeze cooled his skin.

When Wang Qiang stepped through the doors of the Friendship Guesthouse, he saw the front desk crowded with travelers waiting to check in, the proprietress shouting above the din, calling them in order.

“Let me check in first!”

“Why should you go first? I was here before you!”

“Come on, Third, don’t argue. Just queue up.”

A cluster of men surrounded the counter, arguing noisily, some with families in tow.

“Excuse me, make way,” Wang Qiang pushed through the crowd, trying to get inside.

A burly fellow with a hairy arm grabbed him. “Hey, buddy, I got here before you. Don’t cut the line.”

The proprietress glanced over and quickly called out, “He’s my brother!”

The big man let go immediately, grinning sheepishly in apology.

Wang Qiang ignored him, turning to the proprietress. “Sister, where’s Brother Zhu?”

“He’s in the kitchen cooking. Go on in. Join us for dinner later, all right?” she said with concern.

“All right.”

He walked in.

Inside, the television was playing the news. Out on the balcony, Boss Zhu was sweating over the stove.

At a small round table sat a youth of seventeen or eighteen, whom Wang Qiang had never seen before. He bore some resemblance to Boss Zhu.

“Hey, Brother Wang is back! Have a seat, I’ll finish up,” Boss Zhu called out, an apron around his waist, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Don’t mind me,” Wang Qiang said, pulling up a small stool and glancing at the young man. “And this is?”

“Oh, I almost forgot to introduce you. My son, Xiaofeng—Zhu Xiaofeng.” Still busy with the sizzling tomato and egg in the wok, Boss Zhu called over to the youth watching TV, “Call him Uncle Wang.”

Wang Qiang: “...”

Zhu Xiaofeng: “...”

The two of them were about the same age; “uncle” seemed wildly inappropriate.

Perhaps seeing his son unmoved, Boss Zhu glared. “Didn’t you hear me? Call him uncle.”

Zhu Xiaofeng, looking helpless, muttered, “Uncle.”

Wang Qiang broke out in a sweat. “No, no, that’s not right. Xiaofeng and I are about the same age. That’s too formal.”

“Hey, I call you brother, so if he doesn’t call you uncle, it’s as if he’s taking advantage of me,” Boss Zhu insisted, puffing on his cigarette as he plated the tomato and egg. “You disappeared all day. What have you been up to?”

Wang Qiang had packed up early because he had something to discuss with Boss Zhu.

That morning, he’d thought about starting a gaming room, and after a day’s careful consideration, he’d finally sorted out a plan.

First, he’d need to rent a place—not necessarily in a prime location, but definitely close to a school.

Second, since the plan was to open a console gaming room with Famicom machines, televisions were essential. He had twenty Famicoms, so he’d need twenty second-hand TVs.

Most importantly, security in those days was not as ideal as one might imagine—thugs and hooligans abounded. A gaming room was sure to attract their attention. If they came around demanding protection money, Wang Qiang couldn’t handle it alone. It wasn’t that he was afraid, but one man’s fists were no match for a gang. He needed a local partner, both to share the financial risk and, more importantly, to ward off such trouble.

In this city, Wang Qiang knew few people. Boss Zhu was the only local who came to mind. He wasn’t sure if Boss Zhu could truly handle the local thugs, but having a native at his back was better than standing alone. Some things, after all, were more complicated than they seemed.

“I went out for a bit. By the way, brother, I’ve thought of a way to make money.” Wang Qiang didn’t get straight to the point, instead dangling the prospect.

Sure enough, Boss Zhu, who was just about to serve dinner, paused. Maybe he’d gotten a taste for extra income from serving meals to guests. He asked eagerly, “What’s your idea?”

Zhu Xiaofeng also looked over, curious to see what “uncle” Wang might be capable of.

Wang Qiang carefully chose his words, making sure there was nothing inappropriate, then said, “On my way back, I saw that the arcade business is booming. It got me thinking—couldn’t we open a gaming room too?”

“Forget it. One arcade cabinet costs tens of thousands,” Zhu Xiaofeng interjected, clearly misunderstanding.

At the time, arcade machines were sold as complete sets—cabinet and software for around forty thousand yuan. You could also rent, which was cheaper initially but required sharing profits with the distributor, so it didn’t really save much. In short, opening an arcade was an expensive proposition.

In that sense, Zhu Xiaofeng wasn’t wrong.

But Wang Qiang had never planned on opening an arcade. He wanted a Famicom console room—something much more affordable.

“Quiet! Show some respect,” Boss Zhu scolded. He might have no authority with his wife, but he still commanded respect from his son. As he served the tomato and egg, he turned to Wang Qiang, “Go on, Xiao Wang.”

With Zhu Xiaofeng silenced, Wang Qiang smiled. “Actually, Xiaofeng’s right. If we were opening an arcade, it would be expensive. But what I’m talking about is a Famicom console room.”

Boss Zhu looked puzzled. “Famicom? What’s that?”

“It’s a game console you plug into a TV,” Zhu Xiaofeng explained readily—perhaps he inherited his mother’s gift of gab. “It’s nothing special, really. I’ve seen a couple near Xuhui—two yuan an hour, play as much as you want.”

Oh?

So Famicom gaming rooms really existed?

This was news to Wang Qiang. He knew Mega Drive rooms came later, but apparently Famicom rooms had had their moment too—only to be replaced by bootleg arcades and better consoles later. Wang Qiang hadn’t known. Surprised, he asked, “How’s business?”

“Great, for sure,” Zhu Xiaofeng said carelessly. “Sometimes I can’t even get a seat. But even the cheaper Famicoms cost over two hundred each, and game cartridges are at least eighty or ninety. Add in the TV—if you want to open one, it’s still a decent investment. Probably can’t do it under ten thousand. And it’s boring with just three or four machines.”

“You’ve been going to gaming rooms? No wonder you didn’t get into high school. I’ll tell your mother and see what she does about it.” Boss Zhu scowled, then turned to Wang Qiang. “Xiao Wang, see? My son has a point. I can get used TVs from friends for cheap, but those Famicoms and cartridges—ten thousand isn’t a small sum.”

Wang Qiang surprised them both: “I can handle the Famicoms and cartridges—twenty Famicoms, seventy game cartridges. Is that enough?”

Zhu Xiaofeng’s jaw dropped. “T-twenty Famicoms? Seventy cartridges? That’s over ten thousand right there!”

Boss Zhu was startled, staring at Wang Qiang as if unable to believe his young friend was so wealthy.

Wang Qiang didn’t specify a price. By Shanghai standards, it was indeed worth ten thousand, but he had nowhere to sell them. Even if they were worth a million, it meant nothing now. He asked, “Brother, I’d like to open a Famicom gaming room and bring you in as a partner. Interested?”

Boss Zhu brought the tomato and egg to the table, looking conflicted. “Of course I’m interested, but coming up with ten thousand all at once...”

Wang Qiang interrupted, “You don’t need that much. Just handle the premises and the TVs. The place doesn’t have to be fancy—forty or fifty square meters, near a school. As for TVs, second-hand will do. You mentioned a friend who repairs electronics—so second-hand TVs should be easy to get, right? If you’re willing to partner with me, we’ll split the profits thirty-seventy, me seventy, you thirty. Deal?”

Boss Zhu hesitated.

“Dad, what are you waiting for? This is a great opportunity. Say yes! If you and Mom are busy running the guesthouse, I have time,” Zhu Xiaofeng urged, eyes shining. Wang Qiang could tell he was eager to be “the boss,” or maybe he just wanted more chances to play games—profit was probably the last thing on his mind.

“Wait, let me discuss with your big sister,” Boss Zhu said, hurrying out.

As soon as he left, Zhu Xiaofeng turned to Wang Qiang, excitement barely contained. “Uncle Wang, are you really opening a gaming room?”

Wang Qiang nodded. “If your parents aren’t interested, I’ll just open it myself.”

“They’ll definitely agree. If not, I’ll persuade them,” Zhu Xiaofeng promised solemnly.

As they spoke, voices drifted in from outside.

“What is it? I’m busy here.”

“Let them wait a bit, I want to discuss something.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“Come in, it won’t take long.”

After some muttering, the proprietress was pulled inside by Boss Zhu.

As soon as she entered, Boss Zhu gestured to Wang Qiang, “Xiao Wang, tell your big sister what you just told me. If she says yes, we’re in. If not, I can’t help it—she holds the purse strings.”

“What’s this about?” she asked.

Wang Qiang repeated his proposal, careful not to exaggerate potential profits, as he still wasn’t sure how much business they might do.

Afterward, the proprietress asked, “Will it make money?”

“It should,” Wang Qiang replied, not entirely confident.

But Zhu Xiaofeng chimed in, “Of course it will! The two in Xuhui are packed every day. Each has just a dozen machines, and they make over two hundred yuan a day.”

The proprietress grilled her son for details about the Xuhui gaming rooms.

Zhu Xiaofeng answered everything—how each machine could seat two people, how it cost two yuan per hour, how the place was packed at noon, evenings, and weekends. He made it sound like a gold mine.

The proprietress nodded, having gotten a sense of it. She turned to Wang Qiang, “How much will Zhu and I have to put in?”

Wang Qiang thought carefully. “Twenty second-hand TVs—if Zhu uses his connections, about two thousand yuan. I don’t know how much it’ll cost to rent a forty or fifty square meter space, but with tables and chairs, the initial investment shouldn’t exceed three thousand.”

“Twenty machines? Even with a thirty-seventy split, just three thousand a month and we’d break even. Mom, say yes,” Zhu Xiaofeng urged.

Boss Zhu stared at his wife, clearly tempted.

One had to say, the proprietress had a keener eye than her husband. As the pillar of the household, when she heard how profitable it could be, she decided at once, “All right, Zhu, I’ll give you three thousand. You and Xiao Wang give it a try.”

At last, Wang Qiang could relax. He had truly worried she might refuse. He had only a few days left before the deadline he’d agreed on with his mother. If he had to invest alone, he might not meet the ten-thousand-yuan target, and, knowing his mother, she’d surely force him to go back to school.

Besides, he’d already realized that without a local partner, opening a gaming room would be difficult.

Fortunately, the proprietress agreed.

They would try it for a couple of days. If business was good, he’d bring his mother to Shanghai, and with her and Boss Zhu watching the gaming room, he could focus on exploiting information gaps elsewhere. With a two-pronged approach, he was confident that before long, the family’s fortunes would be thoroughly transformed.