Chapter 140: The Business Tycoons of Hong Kong
"Mr. Liao, good to see you," Yang Wendong greeted with a smile. "Congratulations on the acquisition of your new headquarters. I believe Liao Chong Hing Bank will soon become the leading Chinese-owned bank in Hong Kong."
Indeed, if not for the bank run in 1961, that very outcome might have come true.
Although Liao Baoshan had diverted funds into real estate investments, he had done so successfully. In fact, his unconventional approach—running a bank while speculating in real estate—had been quite profitable.
But running a bank to invest in real estate and borrowing money to do so were two different things.
In the latter case, even if the investment failed, the bank wouldn't chase you down immediately. They'd likely find a way to avoid bankruptcy.
But if a bank itself was invested and word spread—even a rumor—it could trigger a full-blown bank run. And banks can never legally refuse withdrawals. Even a well-managed bank could collapse under that kind of pressure.
Liao Liewen was clearly pleased by Yang's compliment, but still responded humbly with a smile, "You flatter us, Mr. Yang. Liao Chong Hing Bank still has a long way to go compared to Hang Seng. But it's you, Mr. Yang, who's taken the city by storm with your new title—Post-it King of Hong Kong."
"Haha, I have to thank your bank for that," Yang replied with a laugh. "The media has already dug up a lot about me. If it weren't for Liao Chong Hing's HK$100 minimum deposit policy back in the day, I wouldn't have made it this far—or at least, not this quickly."
Even with Elena's help early on, without a business account, he wouldn't have been eligible for larger government contracts. That was simply the rule. If you couldn't open a bank account, no public or corporate entity would work with you.
Liao Liewen laughed. "You're too modest. That was just a small detail—it wouldn't have stopped someone like you."
"But it made things a lot easier," Yang added.
"True enough," Liao said. Then he continued, "About that loan you applied for earlier—it really was a matter of us not being able to pool that much money on short notice. But things should improve from now on. I hope you'll consider working with us again in the future."
"Of course," Yang nodded. As long as it was just borrowing and not deposits, he didn't mind. A loan is a loan—whoever offers the best interest rate gets the business. Even if Liao Chong Hing Bank faced a crisis in the future, it wouldn't affect a borrower like him.
For deposits, however, Yang had already opened accounts with Hang Seng, Standard Chartered, and HSBC. Going forward, he would gradually move most of his company's funds into those banks.
Liao Liewen smiled, clearly understanding that their conversation was still just pleasantries for now. "Please, come inside. Not many guests have arrived yet, but a few other industrialists are here already. You might make some new friends."
"Sure." Yang nodded. In truth, aside from the owner of Dongsheng, he didn't know any other industrialists of note in Hong Kong.
—
As Yang entered the venue, he glanced around. The hall had at least thirty tables set up, though they only occupied half the space. The rest of the area was open, with small groups of people scattered about, chatting with familiar faces.
Toward the back, there was a spacious terrace glowing with soft lighting. Several people stood outside in conversation.
On the far side of the hall, multiple tables were covered in elaborately packaged bottles of wine and liquor. Since Yang didn't recognize anyone right away, he made his way over to the drink tables.
As he got closer, he noticed both red and white wines—and to his surprise, a bottle of Moutai. The packaging was different from what he remembered from his past life, sealed with a cork instead of a cap. Yang couldn't help but wonder how it tasted compared to the modern version.
"You're a fan of Moutai, sir?" a voice came from behind.
Yang turned around to see a man in his mid-thirties. The man looked slightly startled upon seeing Yang's face but said nothing about it.
Yang smiled politely. "You could say that."
In his past life, Yang hadn't been much of a drinker—only indulging on special occasions. His familiarity with wine brands was limited to a few big names.
That said, he had always preferred Moutai. In situations where he had no other choice, he would usually opt for it—not only because of its reputation, but because he genuinely liked the flavor more than others.
"I'm a fan too," the man chuckled. "Thankfully, the national goods stores carry goods from the mainland. Otherwise, we'd be out of luck."
Yang nodded. "Those stores have definitely made life easier for Hongkongers."
Britain's ability to maintain control over Hong Kong had less to do with its strength and more to do with China's desire to use the city as a window to the world—especially for earning foreign exchange.
In the 1950s, China had established national goods stores in Hong Kong through state-owned enterprises like China Resources. They sold all kinds of mainland products to earn foreign currency.
From light industrial goods, tea, liquor, ceramics, and wooden furniture—you name it, they had it. The prices were affordable too, and Hong Kong residents were able to enjoy cheap, high-quality goods from the mainland. Without those, life in Hong Kong would have been much harder.
The man smiled again. "I'm Chen Yunnan, owner of Yunnan Electronics."
"I'm Yang Wendong, owner of Changxing Industrial," Yang replied openly.
There was no need to hide his identity here. After all, he had come to this banquet precisely to connect with the mid-to-upper echelons of Hong Kong's business world. Being upfront was the point.
"Post-it King, Yang Wendong?" Chen Yunnan was visibly stunned, but then seemed to realize something and said, "My apologies, no wonder I was wondering earlier why someone so young would be attending an event like this."
Yang Wendong countered with a smile, "Everyone here is a business owner? None of their children came along?"
Sometimes, at events like this, wealthy entrepreneurs would bring their children to introduce them to senior figures, peers, or even future competitors—it was part of grooming them for the business world.
Chen shook his head. "Not this time. Only company owners, along with a few people from political and cultural circles were invited. Liao Chong Hing Bank organized this banquet not just because Mr. Liao Baoshan enjoys such gatherings, but also to reconnect with old partners."
"Reconnect?" Yang asked curiously. "Wouldn't 'strengthen' be a more fitting word?"
Chen chuckled and then leaned in slightly. "Mr. Yang, you probably already know about Liao Chong Hing Bank investing its own capital into real estate, right?"
"I do. That's no secret," Yang nodded. This was something even ordinary folks with connections knew. Several newspapers had even reported on it.
Chen said, "That move caused a lot of their corporate clients to start backing out. We're not fools—the risk is too high.
If Mr. Liao wins, we get nothing. If he loses, our money could go down with him. You think the bosses of other companies are idiots? Especially the ones who also deal in real estate—they're competitors."
"True, everyone's playing smart," Yang nodded in agreement.
Even though they couldn't predict the future, many of these men had been in business for decades. If the bank's strategy posed a risk without offering them any upside, why should they take that gamble?
Chen added, "The thing is, Liao Chong Hing still offers better loan terms than most other banks. And Liao's real estate business is thriving. So some of us can't entirely cut ties—we're stuck in this awkward middle ground."
"I see," Yang said with a slight smile. Then he asked, "Mr. Chen, your company is an electronics firm, right? What do you produce?"
Chen waved his hand. "It's just a name. We call it electronics, but we're really just making flashlights."
"That's still great. Flashlights count as home appliances, and the market must be huge," Yang said.
Indeed, flashlights were once considered household treasures—especially in impoverished regions. In an era where most households worldwide didn't have electricity, any device that provided light was invaluable.
"In terms of market, yes, it's huge," Chen admitted. "But the profits are thin. There are too many flashlight manufacturers—not just in Hong Kong, but all over. The structure is simple; anyone with a bit of capital can do it.
On top of that, Hong Kong's trading firms control the export channels. We all sell to the same few big agents and have to bid against each other internally. It's tough."
"No distribution channels, no power," Yang nodded. The phrase "distribution is king" was not just a slogan—especially in Hong Kong, where factories merely made enough to cover labor.
Chen laughed, "Not like you, Mr. Yang. You've got direct access to overseas distributors."
"I'm just lucky the product is unique," Yang deflected, then asked, "How many electronics manufacturers are there in Hong Kong right now? I checked the customs data, and electronics accounted for less than 0.5% of exports."
"Not many," Chen admitted. "And those that do exist are only making the simplest devices—like flashlights and switches. We can't handle anything complex."
"What about radios?" Yang asked.
Chen shook his head. "We can't make those. But I heard there's a big Japanese company planning to open a radio factory in Hong Kong. I don't know the details, though."
"Oh? Thanks for the tip," Yang replied, making a mental note. So the Japanese were planning to invest in Hong Kong to access the Commonwealth market.
That made sense. Japanese investment was exactly what would go on to kickstart Hong Kong's electronics industry. Though they would later exit, their presence planted the seed.
Chen asked, "Are you interested in electronics, Mr. Yang?"
"Not really," Yang replied with a grin. "Just curious. I think Hong Kong's industry shouldn't stay stuck in low-tech, low-value manufacturing.
Look at Europe, the U.S., and Japan—they all started from low-end goods and worked their way up. Electronics are key to that evolution.
Mr. Chen, I think you should seize the opportunity to upgrade—to build more advanced products. Once you do, you'll break free from the control of the trading houses, and even make more profit."
"Haha," Chen chuckled. "Sounds easy when you say it. I'd love to make cars, but I don't have that kind of capability. Better to just keep doing what I'm good at."
"True," Yang said, not pushing further. Not everyone dreamed of infinite growth. Not everyone had the ambition—or the means—to become an empire.
Most ventures, once they reach a certain stage, come to a halt due to limitations in either ability or ambition. The risks involved become too overwhelming. Just look at the most well-known chip development efforts in the previous life—only Huawei truly succeeded. Other mobile phone companies poured in billions, yet barely caused a ripple.
Chen Yunnan didn't press further. Instead, he pulled out a business card and said, "Mr. Yang, I'm very pleased to have met you today. This is my card. If you ever have time, feel free to visit my factory. It's in North Point."
"Sure," Yang Wendong said as he accepted the card. He then took out his own and handed it over, adding, "Mr. Lu, same here—stop by sometime if you have the chance."
"OK." Chen Yunnan smiled, exchanged a few more polite words, and then left.
Yang Wendong noticed Chen Yunnan walking over to engage with someone else. It looked like he was making the rounds, trying to get familiar with as many people from the Hong Kong circle as possible.
Yang Wendong had considered doing the same, though he didn't feel the need to introduce himself one by one. He figured he'd mingle more casually and see what opportunities might come up.
After about half an hour, Yang Wendong had collected over a dozen business cards. Through casual conversations, introductions came naturally. Once people realized that he was the now-famous "Post-it King," quite a few quickly warmed up to him.
A little while later, Liao Liewen appeared at the entrance. It seemed the event was reaching full attendance. But this time, he wasn't alone—he brought along someone Yang Wendong didn't personally know but found familiar.
Liao Liewen approached and said, "Mr. Yang, let me introduce someone. This is Mr. Li from Cheung Kong Holdings. Two years ago, the media dubbed him the King of Plastic Flowers. Mr. Li, this is Mr. Yang—the rising star known as the Post-it King."
Li Jiacheng (Li Ka-shing) extended his hand and smiled. "Mr. Yang, it's a pleasure. I've heard a lot about you."
"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Li," Yang Wendong replied with equal politeness.
Putting aside what Li Jiacheng would go on to accomplish in the decades to come, his current achievements were already impressive. A single plastic flower product took the Hong Kong market by storm, and large-scale exports quickly followed. He became a multimillionaire and even spurred other Hong Kong plastic manufacturers to pivot and begin producing plastic flowers themselves.
Liao Liewen chuckled and said, "I ran into Mr. Li at the entrance, and when I happened to mention that you were here, he asked me to introduce you."
"Well, if it were me, I would've done the same," Yang Wendong replied with a nod, offering a face-saving response.
Meeting people like Li Jiacheng or Bao Yugang wasn't a big deal in itself. Making their acquaintance wouldn't hurt. But he wasn't the type to proactively seek such interactions unless there was a clear benefit. And since he didn't see much opportunity for collaboration—at least not yet—there was no reason to go out of his way. If one day he moved into shipping or real estate, then they'd likely be competitors instead.
"I'll leave you two kings to talk," Liao Liewen said with a grin. "I have some matters to attend to."
"Alright," Yang Wendong replied politely, turning to Li Jiacheng. But then he paused. He suddenly realized—he didn't really have much to say.
Li Jiacheng seemed to notice the same thing. Without missing a beat, he pulled out a business card and said, "Mr. Yang, here's my card. If there's ever a chance to collaborate, don't hesitate to contact me."
"Of course," Yang Wendong said, accepting the card and handing over his own. He smiled. "Our industries don't exactly overlap, though."
Li Jiacheng responded, "That's true, but in the early stages of entrepreneurship, everyone chooses different paths. In the future, though, you never know. Hong Kong is a small place. There might be opportunities."
"Fair enough," Yang Wendong said with a nod.
At the moment, their businesses had nothing to do with each other. Collaboration seemed unlikely, and even becoming competitors was a stretch. Still, Yang Wendong knew that Li Jiacheng would soon enter the real estate market—albeit very quietly, acquiring properties in fringe areas with little fanfare.
Yang himself also planned to enter real estate in the future. And while they might eventually compete, that wouldn't happen for a long time. The initial battles would be against the British firms. Only after defeating them would local competition become relevant—but that was a ways off.
Li Jiacheng continued, "Mr. Yang, I assume this is your first time attending a banquet like this. And since you're relatively new to entrepreneurship, let me introduce you to some of the people here."
"All of them? Is that really necessary?" Yang Wendong asked. There had to be over a hundred people here. Even if he met them all, he'd never remember everyone.
Li Jiacheng laughed. "Maybe I wasn't clear—I'm not going to drag you around the room. I'll just point them out from here. If anyone catches your interest, you can go say hello."
"Oh, that's a good idea," Yang Wendong agreed.
He wasn't the type to run around begging for introductions. In his past life, when he worked in sales, that kind of thing was normal. But now, there was no need for it. His business didn't overlap much with most people here. If he could identify a few worth getting to know and leave a good impression, that would be enough.
"Alright then," Li Jiacheng said. "That gentleman over there is Mr. Li Qingsheng from Qingsheng Industries. His factory mainly produces socks and gloves. And over there, that's Mr. Wang Yuewen from Henghe Industries. His plant specializes in plastic hangers. That man over there is…"
Standing beside Yang Wendong, Li Jiacheng went on, introducing each person one by one.
Yang Wendong listened attentively. Most of the businesses had relatively low technical requirements, but some had substantial scale—with workforces of 600 or 700 employees.
Suddenly, Li Jiacheng pointed toward a man in his early thirties and said, "Mr. Yang, you may not know him personally, but I'm sure you've heard his name. That's Jin Yong."
Thank you for the support, friends. If you want to read more chapters in advance, go to my Patreon.
Read 20 Chapters In Advance: patreon.com/johanssen10