by Jinkang Wang
Jin was the deputy head of the county government’s chamber of commerce. It sounded like a lofty title, but in truth, the position was mostly a sinecure, and he didn’t have much power. The former head, Old Qi, had put a lot of energy into creating a free-enterprise zone, pumping millions into it, and in the end failed to attract even a single company. Two days ago, a phone call came out of the blue, filling Deputy Head Jin with both joy and suspicion. Ms. Mei Yin introduced herself as a Chinese American currently working as a foreign expert in the Planning Department of the Wuhan Institute of Virology’s Zhengdian Research Laboratory. Her American father wanted to invest in China, placing a first installment of $10 million in a high-tech biology lab. The site had to be within half a day’s drive of Wuhan, for easy access, while the costs of land and labor would need to be kept as low as possible. She felt Xinye County was very suitable for this, and so found his number through directory assistance and cold-called him. Jin had immediately launched into his spiel about all the many ways in which this was the perfect location for her. There was a little padding, but essentially he told her the truth. They weren’t too far from Wuhan, property was cheap, and wages low. Besides, the county government was so focused on luring rich investors that conditions were extremely favorable. Ms. Mei seemed interested in his pitch, and said she’d arrange a site visit soon.
“Soon” turned out to be much sooner than he’d expected. Jin hadn’t even had a chance to report the conversation to the county chief. It wasn’t negligence on his part, but caution: he’d decided to investigate the situation further, waiting till he was at least half-confident before speaking to County Chief Liu. But now the woman was showing up on short notice, and if this opportunity was for real, he’d need the county chief to put in an appearance to welcome her and clinch the deal. Jin phoned Liu at home and quickly made his report, explaining why he’d hesitated to say anything before. The chief wasted no words. “I’m sending a car over at once, and at noon Secretary He and I will be there to receive her. Jin, don’t worry about anything, let’s just assume this is the real thing, and give her whatever she asks for. Better to get cheated a few times than miss out when the true God of Fortune arrives.”
With this guarantee in his back pocket, Jin grew much bolder. Ten minutes later one of the county’s drivers turned up in their best Nissan Lannia, and they rushed to the appointed meeting place just outside town. Soon, a Volkswagen Santana pulled up, and a beautiful woman emerged, smiling. “You must be Deputy Head Jin.”
She was refined and elegant, in a jacket the color of rice, her long hair spilling over its collar, slim figured, a silver-gray turtleneck sweater tight across her high breasts, a silvery crucifix around her neck. Jin rushed over to shake her hand. “Welcome! If only you’d given us more notice. County Chief Liu wasn’t able to be here in person, but he’ll meet you later at the county office. You can have a rest there, and at noon he and Secretary He would like to host a banquet for you.”
Mei Yin laughed. “What a lovely reception! No need for a banquet, though. Now let’s have a look at this abandoned farmland you were telling me about.”
Jin tried to insist on the banquet, but she wouldn’t budge, and finally he had to call the chief on his cell to cancel. Mei Yin then suggested he send away the Lannia, and they could just go there in her car.
As they walked toward her car, he said politely, “Ms. Mei, you must be tired after coming all the way from Wuhan. Our driver could have taken over.”
She misunderstood what he was getting at, and said breezily, “You take the wheel, then. Anyway, you know the way there.”
Jin blushed. “I don’t have a license.”
“That’s all right,” said Mei Yin hastily. “I’m not tired at all. Just point me in the right direction.”
The car turned around and headed south. In a short while, they came to a stretch of pitted, bumpy road. Jin explained in embarrassment that the way was only bad for a couple of miles, and they’d soon come to a new paved road, while the section they were on was due to be resurfaced soon. Silently, he cursed the Roadworks Department. If this bad road cost them a millionaire, he would personally castrate the man in charge. Fortunately, they soon reached the new road, all smooth and even, its newly laid surface still gleaming black. They passed a tractor now and then, and quite a few of the old villagers were using the road as a surface to dry peanuts in the sun, carving it up into little patches, though they left a space for cars to pass. Department Head Qi had fought for this road, though when the free-enterprise zone failed, it left him open to a wave of public criticism.
Mei Yin sped along, proclaiming happily, “This is the best kind of road to drive on.”
Jin felt a moment of quiet gratitude to former Head Qi for leaving him an excellent present. His other thought was that he should hurry up and learn how to drive, even if he had to pay for lessons himself, before he was embarrassed like this again.
In half an hour they reached the site, a large patch of empty ground with several abandoned sheds in its center. Even from a distance, it was clear that they were missing windows and doors, and the walls were on the point of collapse. Farther on was a larger, more intact structure, the fence around it sprayed with slogans commonly seen in farming villages: “Shake a farmer’s hand, make friends with the land”; “Have one child then stop, and you’ll come out on top.”
“This used to be a farm for Educated Youths during the Cultural Revolution,” explained Jin. “About a hundred and seventy acres. After the Educated Youths went back to the cities, the land changed hands several times. It’s been used for a chicken farm, a fishery, and a free-enterprise zone, but none of them were successful. Now it’s privately rented.”
“If I wanted to buy it, roughly what would that cost me?”
“About three hundred and twenty hundred yuan per acre.” He added hastily, “But we can discuss that later. I’ll be sure to get you the best price.”
“Thank you very much.”
In fact, the price Jin named had already been so low as to almost stun Mei Yin. She then asked what local wages were like, and again, they were astonishingly tiny. A few more questions about setting up a business here were also met with satisfactory answers. The road had been built, though she’d need to dig a well for water. That was fine. As for electricity, former Head Qi had installed wires to this point, with a 200 kVA transformer currently lying idle, waiting to be hooked up to the grid. The only downside was how remote this place was. It was on the border of two provinces, and the road went no farther. Funding issues had stopped it from linking up with Hubei, so it became a dead end. This was the main reason previous rounds of investment hadn’t attracted anyone. Jin didn’t realize that this was precisely what had attracted her to this out-of-the-way location.
Mei Yin said she wanted to have a look at the structure covered in slogans. They drove over and stopped at the front door, where an old lady emerged and invited them in. Inside was a crudely built two-story dwelling with more than thirty rooms, and the courtyard was sizable too, an emerald sea of chives and bok choy patches. Jin tried to chat with the old woman, but she just grinned, pointing at her ears. “These don’t work at all. I’ll get Shuan to talk to you. He’s somewhere in the compound.”
Mei Yin tried to protest, but the lady had already climbed nimbly up to the roof. Soon, a crisp bell sounded—she was probably striking an old plowshare. About ten minutes later, Shuan appeared, still carrying his shovel. He was in his early- to midtwenties, wearing a mourning armband. Although he was dressed as a student, his coarse skin made him look like a farmer. He smiled as broadly as his grandmother, and said several times what an honor it was to receive visitors. Without asking who they were, he told his granny to prepare lunch for them.
As they chatted over lunch, it turned out the a hundred and seventy acres of land wasn’t all leased to farmers. Twenty-five acres, including this house and its surroundings, had been sold to this family two years previously. Jin blushed furiously to hear
this. He’d spent all his time on chamber of commerce business and knew little about the particulars of the area. The young man was named Sun Jingshuan, and his grandfather had used his life savings to buy the surrounding land and the house, which he then restored brick by brick, preparing to plant quick-growing trees around it. He ran out of strength to finish his scheme, and so insisted his grandson—who’d graduated from an agricultural college—come back. When the old man died, Sun Jingshuan took over the place.
When the young man went to help in the kitchen, Jin whispered to Mei Yin, “Don’t worry. If you decide to set up your facility here, the county will make sure we get back these twenty-five acres of land and the house.” Afraid she wouldn’t believe him, he added, “This isn’t America. In China, the well-being of the group is more important than individual rights. There won’t be any problems.”
Lunch was splendid. The vegetables came from the yard, and the chicken was freshly slaughtered. The old woman kept lamenting what a terrible hostess she was: “Look at these simple dishes and coarse rice!” She seated her guests, then scooped some food into her bowl, squatting in the kitchen doorway to eat. Mei Yin and Jin urged her to join them at the table, but she wouldn’t budge. Shuan said his grandmother had certain habits that she’d never change, and it was no use trying to force her.
During the meal, Mei Yin kept asking the grandson about his life. What had he studied at agricultural college? Biological engineering, he answered.
“Is it lonely here?” she asked. “All alone, so far from civilization, with only your grandmother for company, and even then she’s deaf. Two of you rattling around so many rooms.”
“Not at all,” said the young man, smiling good-humoredly. “I’ve never been one for socializing.”
Mei Yin asked, “Do you make use of what you learned in college?”
“Some of it, but not much.”
“That’s a pity,” she said with a sigh.
The young man didn’t respond, instead asking why the pair had come. Mei Yin replied, “Trying to find a suitable piece of land around here for a biological goods facility. Did you study cell engineering at college?”
“Yes, the cultivation of animal cells for use in vaccines and whatnot.”
“So you must know what facilities are required for the industrial production of animal cells?”
“Essentially, you need a bioreactor. There are several methods of cultivation, such as floating, fixed-wall, stable, and so on. I think the best sort is a filling reactor, including those that use hollow fiber, glass or ceramic. I can’t really remember. All I know is that China’s a little behind in this area. Foreign cultivation models can produce almost three thousand gallons, while here we can only reach the double digits. At the highest level, we’re still barely above fifty gallons.”
Mei Yin laughed, and proclaimed, “I came to this place in order to attract American technology to build a bioreactor with a capacity of four thousand gallons, producing animal cells for medical use. This will be the largest such device in the world.”
At her words, Shuan’s eyes suddenly grew bright. He looked at Mei Yin, speechless, then lowered his head to continue eating. Mei Yin smiled as she studied him. She’d never expected to find a suitable candidate here. A young person like this—technical background, no social connections, isolated by preference—was exactly what Mei Yin had been searching for.
After the meal, the old lady took away their plates and bowls and asked how the meal was. She hoped it hadn’t been too shabby. Mei Yin laughed loudly. “You’re far too polite. Everything was delicious. Whenever I’m free again, I’ll be sure to come visit for another meal.”
The old woman understood what she was saying. “So it turned out well. We look forward to seeing you again.”
Mei Yin turned to Shuan. “Could you show me the grounds? I know the Educated Youths had about a hundred and seventy acres of land, and I’d like to see where the borders are. Department Head Jin, why don’t you take it easy here, you don’t need to come with us.”
Jin wasn’t an idiot, he knew very well the two of them had something private to discuss. Probably Mei Yin was planning to ask Shuan about handing over his twenty-five acres. He had no objections—after all, if the two of them could negotiate directly with each other, that’d be less trouble for him. After a while, his cell phone rang. It was County Chief Liu, wanting to know how things were progressing. “The visitor and a young guy who lives here have gone out, leaving me with a deaf old woman. We haven’t gotten to the point yet, but, Chief, going by my instincts, I think there’s an eight in ten chance we’ve got it in the bag. This young woman is smart and strong-minded, and deals with everything quickly and cleanly. Not like the greasy old slimeballs we had to deal with the last few times.”
“Then grab on to her and don’t let go. Give her all the special treatment we can offer. If you let this deal slip out of your hands, I’ll chop you up and feed you to the dogs.”
“And if I succeed? Will you get rid of the ‘deputy’ in my job title?”
“Huh, and they say the shortsighted lack ambition.”
The chief hung up. His final words of “criticism” set Jin’s heart at ease. He heard footsteps, then Ms. Mei and Shuan appeared, looking delighted. Mei Yin said, “Thank you, Deputy Head—oh, forget it, let’s not be so formal, I’ll just call you Jin. So thank you, Jin, for helping me to find such an excellent location, as well as a brilliant general manager.” Jin stared in shock at Shuan, who continued beaming happily. They must have settled it between them. “I’ve decided to invest ten million in setting up a plant here. The Sun family will exchange their land and house for shares in it, and I’ll buy the other hundred-plus acres. Trees will be planted around the perimeter, and the facility will go in the center. Now why don’t the three of us head into town and get this locked down? I’m returning to Wuhan tomorrow, and the day-to-day running of the place will be up to you two. How about it? It’s Saturday. Will we be able to get hold of the relevant authorities?”
Jin was overjoyed. He’d bragged to the chief that this deal would probably go through, but he’d never expected it to happen so smoothly. It was scarcely believable! He confidently proclaimed, “No problem at all. The secretary and county chief are waiting for you in town. As for the Land Authority, the Environmental Agency, and so forth, I’ll just snap my fingers and they’ll come running.”
They said good-bye to the deaf old lady. She said, “Shuan, boy, are you bringing our visitors into town?”
“Yes.”
“Will you be back today? If you leave too late, the buses will stop running.”
She still had no idea her grandson was now a general manager. He smiled. “Grandma, I won’t be back tonight. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow!”
While Mei Yin got the car, Jin called the county chief and told him to gather the various heads of the departments, so they could wrap up the deal that evening. Chief Liu’s excitement could barely be contained. He kept saying, “Good! Good work! You’ve done so well, Jin!”
When they got into town, the department heads were already waiting in the meeting room. The ensuing discussion went exceedingly well, both parties seeming to compete to make concessions—the county gave Mei Yin every incentive they had at their disposal, while she relinquished her claim to shares in the technology (which was essentially for the benefit of Sun Jingshuan). By ten that night, the negotiations were more or less over. Only the head of the Environmental Agency still had some doubts: “You’re talking about cultivating viruses. How can you guarantee they won’t get out?”
Mei Yin smiled and turned to Sun Jingshuan, who explained. “Director Mei has said that this facility will only produce animal cells, which will be sold to other institutions who require them, such as the Wuhan Institute of Virology, in order to cultivate viruses; or else they’ll go to the inoculation industry to develop vaccines. That is to say, this site will have nothing to do with the actual production of viruses, so there’s no da
nger of a leak.”
The department head blushed bright red, muttering, “So sorry, this is all outside my area of expertise.”
Mei Yin then produced a letter from her adoptive father, Walt Dickerson, authorizing her to act as his agent, and then signed the investment agreement in his name. She thought his plan to put money into a facility here was a smart one. Chinese laws and regulations were much simpler than in other places. For example, not one person (including Shuan, a supposed industry insider) had noted that the facility’s output would include genetically modified cells, the production of which ought to be strictly regulated. Of course, the dangers of these modified cells were purely theoretical—or even philosophical—and there was no solid evidence of a threat. Her adoptive father had always held that these abstract worries were necessary, but scientists couldn’t allow them to get in the way of decisive action.
And in China, it was much simpler to take action.
A decade previous, when Mei Yin got her master’s in America, her adoptive father had urged her to expand into China. “The future of biology is in China,” he would say. “A society that values collectivism is much closer to God’s will than Western society with its reverence for the individual.” He also believed that in China the teachings of his Crucifix Society would face much less resistance on ethical grounds. The ease with which this contract was signed could be a good omen.
The next morning at seven, Mei Yin knocked on Sun’s door. “I’m leaving now. Something else to deal with in Nanyang. You have complete authority over everything here, but get in touch if there’s a decision you can’t make. When Jin gets here, tell him I’m sorry I had to leave without saying good-bye.”
