Chapter 137: A New Business Legend in Hong Kong — The Post-it King
Two days later:
Editor-in-chief Li Rongshan stared at the compiled report in disbelief. "In just one year, from the squatter settlements, starting from nothing, and now building such an empire? Are you sure all of this is true—not some fictionalized account? Even novels wouldn't dare write something this outrageous."
"It's all real, Chief Editor," said Ah Jun with a grin. "I got in touch with someone who works at Changxing Industrial. While he doesn't know many details about the company's boss, everyone there knows he also came from the squatter settlements.
They say he started by selling rat traps at the wet market, then picked up rat extermination gigs at warehouses. Later, he secured the contract at the Wharf in Kowloon and reportedly made a small fortune from that.
After that, he opened a factory making glue traps, then Post-it notes, and the company has kept growing since."
"Incredible." Editor Li stared at the report. "Hong Kong has produced many self-made tycoons over the years, but this Yang Wendong… he's something else."
Ah Jun nodded. "I felt like I was dreaming when I first learned about it. To achieve this much in just over a year… it's unreal.
From government records, I found that Changxing's new factory was purchased for nearly HKD one million—likely financed through a loan from Liao Chong Hing Bank. That's where the money came from, but I couldn't dig further.
As for customs data, Changxing Industrial's export volume exceeds HKD 300,000 per month—and that's from just one production line. Their new factory is ten times larger. Even if their exports only increase fivefold, that's still astonishing."
"Do we have a photo of him?" Editor Li asked after a moment's thought.
Ah Jun shook his head. "No, his people are very loyal. All I've managed to get is this basic info. No one would tell me where he lives, either.
But that's mostly because of the time crunch. If I really wanted to find out, I'd just stake out his factory."
Li Rongshan laughed. "You'd probably get beaten up. Most of the workers at Changxing Industrial are young men from the squatter settlements. Most Hong Kong industries are on Hong Kong Island, so in Tsim Sha Tsui, their only real option is this factory.
And you said it yourself—the boss treats his workers well. If they find someone stalking their boss, what do you think would happen?"
"Yeah, I got ahead of myself," Ah Jun admitted sheepishly.
He knew full well that many of Hong Kong's gangs had roots in factory workers. What bound them wasn't ideology—but food, jobs, and pay.
Especially with a company like Changxing that genuinely treated workers well, anyone who was perceived as a threat—whether or not they had bad intentions—might catch a beating first and ask questions later.
Editor Li thought for a moment. "This could be a major headline in Hong Kong. I can't believe we stumbled onto this.
Ah Jun, I'll remember your contribution.
But we'll need to investigate thoroughly before publishing anything. If we get the facts wrong, we'll become the laughingstock of Hong Kong's media industry."
"What should I do next?" Ah Jun asked eagerly. Breaking a huge story was every reporter's dream.
Editor Li said, "I'm going to talk to Miss Hu. Only she has the network to get us the full story quickly."
"Oh, alright," Ah Jun nodded. He knew that Miss Hu—his boss—was a powerhouse in the Hong Kong press scene.
Soon after, Editor Li brought all the existing materials to Miss Hu's office.
Miss Hu reviewed the documents and said with surprise, "I didn't expect someone like this to exist in Hong Kong. This startup story might be even more impressive than Li Ka-shing's."
Editor Li laughed. "Exactly. In just over a year, from not having enough to eat to owning a company with 2,000 employees. I doubt you could find a case like this anywhere in the world."
Miss Hu nodded. "We have to report on this. Use every connection we have to dig up his entire journey—his time at the Dong Wet Market, the warehouse jobs, the Kowloon Wharf contract. The more detail, the better.
Only by presenting his journey truthfully will we capture the public's interest."
Editor Li grinned. "Even if I wanted to embellish the story, I couldn't. This narrative is already more dramatic than anything I could make up. And if we did invent details, we'd risk offending Mr. Yang."
"As long as the report is fair, accurate, and unbiased, we should be fine," Miss Hu said thoughtfully. "But I think we should give him a title—like Li Ka-shing's 'King of Plastic Flowers.'"
"A title?" Editor Li thought for a moment. "On the way here, I was considering calling him the 'Post-it King.' What do you think?"
Miss Hu raised an eyebrow. "But aside from office workers, does the average person in Hong Kong even know what a Post-it note is?"
Editor Li smiled. "Anyone who buys or reads the newspaper probably knows. And once he becomes famous, everyone else will learn what it is too."
"Fair point. Go ahead and begin the investigation. Move quickly—if another paper catches wind of this, we'll miss out on a blockbuster headline."
"Understood. I'll get on it immediately."
—
Two days later, someone unexpected showed up at Changxing Industrial's factory.
"Biu Gor?" Yang Wendong looked at the familiar face from over a year ago and smiled.
It was none other than Biu—the street tough from Dong Wet Market who had once collected protection fees. He had also been Yang's very first bulk buyer of rat traps.
Biu stiffened instantly and bowed slightly. "Mr. Yang… just call me Ah Biu. Please, calling me 'Biu Gor' might get me killed."
He never imagined that the street vendor he'd once looked down on had become such a powerful figure in just a year. If not for the possibility of earning something, he wouldn't have dared show up.
"What brings you here?" Yang turned to look at Lin Haoyu, who had brought Biu over.
Haoyu explained, "Brother Dong, one of my guys has family working in Dong Wet Market. They noticed someone investigating you, so we looked into it. That's when Biu found me. He insisted on telling you in person."
"Someone's investigating me?" Yang frowned, then said, "Alright, Biu, tell me everything. If it's useful, you'll be rewarded."
"Yes, sir." Biu quickly began, "The person digging into your background works for Galaxy Daily. They started snooping around yesterday…"
Yang listened carefully, then nodded. "Alright, you can go now. Here's a hundred dollars. If you hear anything else, come tell me—you'll be rewarded."
"Thank you, Mr. Yang!" Biu took the cash and left, expressing his gratitude multiple times.
Afterward, Lin Haoyu asked, "Brother Dong, why do you think Galaxy Daily is investigating you?"
"It's expected. About time, really," Yang smiled. "We've hired over a thousand people in Tsim Sha Tsui. Sooner or later, the media was bound to notice. It was just a matter of time."
"True," Haoyu nodded. "So… should we prepare for anything?"
"No need to overreact. What will come, will come. But we should be ready in terms of security. Have some of your guys live near my apartment and keep a phone with them. If anything happens, they can act quickly.
Also, pick a few younger or more agile ones to stick with me."
"They don't know martial arts, though. Will that be okay?" Haoyu asked, puzzled.
Yang shook his head. "I'm not asking them to fight anyone. I just don't want to get swarmed by reporters.
And let's be real—fighting isn't about kung fu. It's about guts and loyalty. Our guys are better than any security firm at that."
"Got it. I'll handle it," Haoyu said.
—
On June 24, Galaxy Daily released a special edition.
The front-page headline read:
[A Business Legend from the Squatter Settlements: The Post-it King]
P.S.: Before 1972, Galaxy Daily was the former name of Sing Tao Daily.
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