by Ian Hamilton
“Thank you. To begin with, how much more could you produce if you could purchase all the raw material you wanted?”
“I could double what I’m doing now,” Ming said without hesitation.
“What if you could also upgrade your equipment?”
“That would depend on how much and what kind of equipment.”
“Assume we could replace everything you have with new machinery,” said Uncle.
“Not everything I have would need to be replaced.”
“That’s good to know, but please humour me and give me a rough estimate of the impact new machinery would have on your production.”
Ming looked at Fong and frowned.
“We won’t hold you to the number,” Fong said. “My boss just wants an idea of what you think is possible.”
“If I had all the raw material I wanted and some key pieces of new machinery, then I could probably turn out three times the product,” Fong said. Then he stared at Uncle. “Where is this heading?”
“Mr. Ming, I’d like to meet with Peng, but before I ask you to make that arrangement, I should make it clear what I’m proposing,” Uncle said. “I want to expand our business into China and I want to do it properly and with the right partner. You strike me as the kind of person who could be an excellent partner for us. Do you have any interest?”
Ming looked thoughtful and didn’t rush to reply. “What would a partnership involve?” he asked finally.
“We’d invest in your business. We’d put up the money so you could buy all the fabric you need to reach full capacity in this factory. We’d also consider buying new equipment for it, and I’m prepared to discuss turning your other building into a factory.”
“What would you want in return?”
“The right of first refusal on everything you produce — at a fair price, of course,” Uncle said.
Ming waited for Uncle to continue. When he didn’t, he said, “That’s all?”
“That’s all if we’re simply giving you the money to aid in production. But obviously if we start buying equipment and converting the second building, we’d want to be partners, to own part of the action.”
“The SEZ has a whole bunch of regulations about partnerships and joint ventures between foreigners and Chinese companies in the zone.”
“All the more reason for us to meet with Peng — assuming that you have an interest in what I’m proposing.”
“I’m interested,” Ming said, and then hesitated, looking past Uncle towards the factory. “But truthfully, I’ve been running the factory by myself all this time, and I like being my own boss. I don’t want to work for anyone else.”
“Mr. Ming,” Uncle said with a laugh, “I promise you that none of us has the slightest interest in the day-to-day operations of your business. You would still be your own boss. In fact, if you didn’t want to be independent, I’d have to reconsider putting our money behind you.”
“Then I’ll go call Peng right now.”
“Where is his office?” Uncle asked.
“Near the train station.”
“Perfect. See if you can get us in to see him today, and if not, then the next possible day. We’re only a short train ride away.”
As Ming disappeared into the factory, Fong turned to Uncle. “Are you serious about doing this? That equipment isn’t cheap; it could be a huge investment.”
“What I’m serious about is finding out the benefits and limitations for us if we try to do business here. I won’t commit to anything that I don’t fully understand.”
“Sorry, boss. I didn’t mean to sound negative again or to second-guess you,” said Fong. “It’s just that this is a whole different world over here.”
“Which is why I want to understand it before making a commitment,” Uncle said, and then pointed at the factory. “Tell me, how many garment factories in Hong Kong do you know that still make knock-offs?”
“There are fewer and fewer. In fact, almost none are left,” Fong said. “The cops keep shutting them down.”
“And how big is the market for products like that?”
“We sell everything Ming can send us, even with his shitty quality.”
“And we sell it all in our own night markets?”
“Yeah.”
“So suppose we help Ming improve the quality and we increase his production volume tenfold. Do you think we’d have a problem selling the goods?”
“I don’t think we’d have any problem at all. What we couldn’t sell directly, we’d be able to move into other gang’s markets in Hong Kong.”
“Exactly. And is there any reason why we need to limit Ming to Lacoste? In fact, is there any reason why we need to limit him to clothes? If we can legally set up shop here, and if the guys who run this SEZ are prepared to tolerate us, then who’s to say what we can and can’t make?”
“I see where you’re going,” Fong said.
“We’re not going anywhere until we talk to Peng,” Uncle said. “Keep your fingers crossed and hope that after we’ve spoken to him, it will make sense to do this.”
“I have to say that I like everything I’ve heard so far,” Xu said.
Several minutes later Ming hurried out of the factory towards them. “Peng can’t see anyone until tomorrow afternoon,” he said.
“That will have to do. Confirm an appointment for us.”
“Who will be going?”
“We three and you,” Uncle said.
Ming left and then returned a few minutes later with a slight smile on his face. “We’re set for three o’clock. Peng sounded eager to talk to you,” he said. “He told me that a lot of the investment money coming into the zone from Hong Kong has been for real estate projects like apartment buildings. They’re anxious for more industrial development.”
“Thank you for doing that. It sounds like our timing is good,” Uncle said. “We’ll head for the train station now, if you don’t mind, but we’ll be back tomorrow. Say, around two?”
“I’ll meet you at the station again. We can walk to Peng’s office from there.”
“Perfect. And in the meantime, could you put together some numbers for me?” asked Uncle.
“Numbers?”
“How much will it cost to buy the new equipment? How much money — say, on a monthly basis — will we have to provide for raw material? How much would it cost and how long would it take to convert the second building into an operating factory? Finally, if we finance everything I’ve just mentioned, what volume of production could we expect to see?” Uncle said. “Can you have those numbers for me tomorrow, before we meet with Peng? I know it’s a lot to ask on such short notice, but I’m assuming you’re a man who understands his business.”
Ming nodded. “I’ll do the best I can. I should be able to come up with something that’s closer to what’s possible than not. I worked out some of those numbers before, when I was dreaming about expanding.”
“We’re not typically in the business of making dreams come true, but we are capable businesspeople. If your numbers make sense, then you may get the chance to have yours become a reality.”
( 4 )
It was mid-afternoon when Uncle, Xu, and Fong arrived back in Fanling. The train ride had been subdued; Fong had fallen asleep again and Uncle spent most of the trip staring out the window. Xu had tried to start a conversation but quickly recognized that Uncle wanted to be left alone.
When they got off the train, they formed a huddle on the platform. “You need to go home and get some sleep,” Uncle said to Fong. “I need you to be alert tomorrow.”
“Xu mentioned earlier that there might be an executive meeting today.”
“I’ve decided against it. There are too many issues that need clarification. When we have more information, I’ll hold a meeting.”
“Are you really as enthusiastic as
you seemed about Ming’s operation?” Fong asked.
“I need to see his numbers. And I need to be confident that if we increase his production we can sell everything he produces.”
“Tonight I’ll call the guys who run the night markets in Kowloon and Wanchai. They’re the biggest, and if they’re willing to buy they’ll move volume.”
“Don’t say a word to them about Shenzhen. If they ask where we’re getting the goods, tell them we’ve found someone in the Territories who has quietly resumed production.”
“I understand,” Fong said.
“Good. Now take off. We’ll meet at the office at noon tomorrow.”
“See you then,” said Fong.
Uncle stayed put as Fong walked towards a taxi stand. When he was out of earshot, Uncle turned to Xu. “You must think I’m acting out of character today.”
“In what way?” Xu asked.
Uncle smiled. “You’re always so circumspect. In your next life you should be a politician.”
“I’m sure there won’t be a next life, so let me stay in this one by admitting that I’m not used to seeing you make decisions so quickly.”
“I haven’t made any decisions.”
“But I sense that you’re infatuated with the idea of doing business in Shenzhen, and that it won’t take much to get you to commit,” Xu said. “This morning when we met at Jia’s, Shenzhen wasn’t even on our horizon.”
Uncle reached for Xu, gripping his forearm. “My friend, the earth is moving beneath my feet. For the past few years I’ve felt the tremors and ignored them while the Jockey Club incrementally absorbed our best business. But this morning, when you told me about our men deserting, I felt an electric shock. This isn’t a time to move slowly.”
“But we don’t even know if what I was told is true.”
“Wang will run it down, and he’ll do it quickly,” Uncle said. “I’m willing to bet he’ll confirm what you heard.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“In our world, rumours never exist in a vacuum,” Uncle said. “Is he going to contact you tonight or will he call me?”
“You’re the Mountain Master. I told him to call you.”
“I’ll let you know what he reports.”
“I hope it isn’t what you expect.”
“Me too, but it won’t change the fact that we can’t sit here doing nothing to change our situation.”
“But is a garment factory in Shenzhen the answer?”
“It has the potential. What other options do we have that we can say that about?”
Xu lowered his head. “That’s a difficult question.”
“I know, and my strong feeling is that we don’t have much time to come up with an answer,” Uncle said. “We either sit and watch others pick us apart or we get aggressive and gamble. If we can get whole, then we can start to grow again.”
“I’m not being negative. Whatever course you choose I will support.”
“You’re a good friend, Xu.”
“I’m someone who respects his Mountain Master’s judgement, because that Mountain Master has demonstrated over and over that his judgement is sound.”
“As I said, you’re a good friend.” Uncle checked his watch. “The day is as good as done. I think I’ll go to my apartment rather than the office.”
“And I’ll head home. Why don’t you join us for dinner?”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass. I don’t have much of an appetite,” Uncle said. “I’m going to walk home. You should catch a taxi. I’ll call you if I hear from Wang.”
Uncle took his time walking to the apartment, hoping that slowing down his body would help his mind follow suit. The tactic was partially successful; when he reached his building, his mind was still full of questions and doubts, but at least it had stopped churning.
He climbed the stairs, opened the unlocked door, and stepped into a modest apartment that had one bedroom, furnished with a double bed, a night table, and a dresser. It did have a closet, but it lacked a door and contained only a single row of white shirts and black suits hanging from wooden coat hangers. The bathroom had a bathtub he never used, a glass-enclosed shower stall, a single sink, and a small mirror. His toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, and shaving cream sat on the edge of the bathtub surround. The kitchen was an alcove off the living room. It contained a sink with counters on either side, on which sat a hot-water Thermos, a two-ring burner — which had been turned on so seldom that it looked new — and a small fridge that usually contained nothing more than beer, bread, butter, and marmalade.
When he was in the apartment, Uncle spent most of his time in the living room, sitting in a red leather reclining chair that faced the window, giving him a clear view of the street below. The only other furnishings were two small folding metal tables that flanked the chair. On one was his phone and answering machine and on the other an ashtray, pens, and typically the racing form that he was working on. The only people who had ever been inside his apartment were Xu, Fong, Wang, and Tian Longwei, the man who had mentored Uncle when he was a Blue Lantern. Tian now served as the gang’s Vanguard, as well as being the supervisor of the gang’s best betting shop, which was inside Dong’s Kitchen.
Of the four men, he was the only one with enough seniority and gravitas to be able to comment freely on Uncle’s spartan existence. “I know street beggars who live in better conditions than you,” Tian had said. “No one is going to think badly of you if you spoil yourself a little. You don’t even have a television, for god’s sake. If you did — and if for no other reason — you could watch your precious racehorses working out. They broadcast the workouts live.”
“I have everything I need,” Uncle had replied, although the idea of getting a television to watch training sessions did have some appeal, and he hadn’t completely discounted the possibility.
On this day Uncle hung up his suit jacket, got a bottle of San Miguel beer from the fridge, and climbed into the chair. It was in an upright position, but his feet barely touched the floor. He took a swig of San Miguel and then reached for the pack of Marlboros that sat next to the ashtray. He lit a stick with a Zippo lighter covered in faded black crackle and took a deep drag. The lighter had belonged to Gui-San’s father. It and a photo were the only things he had left to remind him of her.
“Gui-San, I’ve been trying to cut back on smoking. That’s why I’ve been leaving my cigarettes here in the apartment. I thought if the pack was out of sight it would be out of mind, but it’s hard, especially after a day like today,” he said aloud. “It isn’t often that I feel things are out of my control, but that’s how I feel right now. What makes it worse is that I have only myself to blame for things getting to this point. If you remember, I reduced the amount of money we were giving monthly to our forty-niners and Blue Lanterns. I told them it was only a temporary measure, and I meant it at the time, though I had no solid basis for making that claim. I thought that would pacify them until I found a way to restore the payments they were accustomed to. Well, up to today I hadn’t found that way, and it seems some of our men may have lost patience. And if they have, that means they’ve also lost trust in me.
“What does a Mountain Master have left when he loses the trust and loyalty of his men? There is nothing more important, and the idea that I may be losing that hurts me so much I almost feel ill,” he said, stubbing out the cigarette and immediately lighting another. “Wang is poking around trying to find out if the rumours about some of our men doing work for another gang are true, but even if he finds nothing, the fact that there are rumours is warning enough that unless I act, some of them will eventually transfer at least part of their loyalty to another Mountain Master. Once that happens, the entire foundation of our gang will start to erode. So I have to act. I have to do something to restore the men’s faith in our Fanling gang, and in me.
“I haven’t been idle t
hese past few months. I understood that we need to find new sources of income. I tried to think of some and I’ve been pushing Xu, Fong, and the others to come up with ideas too. They didn’t have many. Neither did I, and those we did have were either impractical or too minor to make a difference. Then this morning, when I read in the paper about what the Communists are trying to do in Shenzhen, it suddenly occurred to me that that’s where we have to go. I had no rational reason for thinking that and no facts to support me, but the thought was there all the same, and it was wholly formed. Later I mentioned it to Xu, and he told me about a garment factory in Shenzhen that we are already doing business with. I couldn’t believe that was a coincidence.
“So I’m thinking of putting money into a factory I saw for a few minutes and a man I’ve met once for about an hour,” he said. “I don’t know how something so impetuous could be less like me. Is this a sign of desperation on my part? Is it simply wishful thinking? Or have I had a vision of what the future might hold? Whatever it is, Gui-San, I’m going to follow my instincts, even if it means going back to China — a place that holds many terrible memories, and that I never wanted to see again.”
Uncle slid from his chair and went to the fridge for another San Miguel, standing in the kitchen as he drank from the bottle. As he walked back to the recliner, he stopped to look outside. The street was alive with people heading home from work or hurrying to dinner. There were days when he wished his life could be that simple.
His phone rang. It jolted him, pricking the bubble he entered whenever he spoke to Gui-San. He picked it up. “Wei,” he said.
“Uncle, this is Wang. I’m following up on the request you asked Xu to make this morning.”
“What did you find out?” Uncle asked abruptly.
“It isn’t quite as bad as Xu thought, but it’s bad enough,” Wang said. “Tai Wai certainly has an unhealthy interest in us.”
“Are they paying some of our men to divert gamblers to them?”
“Not that I’ve been able to confirm. I spoke to Tian and two of the other betting shop managers, and they don’t think any of our men have been involved in anything like that. They have noticed, though, some forty-niners from Tai Wai hanging around outside our shops and talking to the customers. Some of them even came inside and placed a few bets, but that could have been to throw us off guard.”
