Chapter 285: Acquiring Oil Tankers and Glory Electronics' Breakthrough
The future of Watsons would depend heavily on beverages — a market large enough to support long-term growth.
However, in the short term, there was no way they could go international. At best, they would operate in Hong Kong and its surrounding regions. The main reason was simple: Yang Wendong didn't yet have the capital to promote the brand globally.
Without strong advertising, a beverage could never succeed on a global scale. Even Coca-Cola had only become a household name due to massive marketing investment — and the support of a global superpower.
Yang's beverage of choice, herbal tea, was tailored specifically to Asian tastes. It would likely never gain traction in Western markets. In fact, the only Asian drink to have truly succeeded internationally was Red Bull — and even that had originated as one of many energy drinks in Thailand.
But Yang wasn't planning to chase Red Bull. There was no point.
The success of a beverage didn't lie in flavor — as long as it tasted acceptable, the key was marketing. Red Bull, too, was just one of several similar products that happened to catch fire.
The next day, Zhou Haoran flew to Germany with a few staff members. With a deal involving several hundred thousand US dollars in equipment, he had to handle the negotiations personally.
Yang also sent three people from his headquarters office to accompany him — both to support the process and to provide oversight. If anything went wrong, they could report back immediately.
With that, the groundwork for Watsons' beverage business was laid. The next phase — expanding internationally — would have to wait until the canned drinks were ready, costs were lowered, and capital reserves were stronger. For now, the goal was simply to dominate the local Hong Kong market.
That afternoon, Zheng Yuhua arrived at Changxing Tower.
"Mr. Yang, here's the information on the five old oil tankers," she said, handing over a report. "Total tonnage is 254,000 tons."
She added, "They're currently held by two companies — one American, one Finnish. Their asking price is $1.1 million USD."
"They're all over 20 years old, and still cost over $200,000 each?" Yang asked with a raised brow.
Zheng replied, "If sold for scrap, they'd fetch around $600,000 to $700,000 in total. Large tankers contain a lot of high-strength alloy steel, copper, and resalable components. Especially oil tankers — they retain decent scrap value.
Many countries buy old vessels just to dismantle them and sell the parts. Hong Kong used to be in that business too, but gave it up due to pollution concerns.
These ships aren't totally unusable yet — they still have a few years in them. They're just not safe enough for open-sea oil transport, so their resale value is slightly higher."
"Can they still transport oil along coastal routes?" Yang asked.
"Yes," Zheng confirmed. "Nearshore waters are calmer and safer. These old tankers can still operate there. In fact, some companies even anchor them offshore and use them as floating oil depots. No waves, no risk."
"Using them as floating warehouses — not a bad idea. No wonder they're pricier." Yang nodded. "If the price seems reasonable, go ahead with the deal.
Usual arrangement — we'll cover part of the payment ourselves, and get a loan from HSBC for the rest."
Zheng hesitated. "Mr. Yang, Sanders already found out about our plan to buy these five old ships. He asked me if we've gone mad."
"Haha, looks like the foreigner's getting nervous," Yang laughed. "Is he refusing to approve the loan?"
"No, he's still willing. It's not a huge amount anyway," Zheng clarified. "He just doesn't understand why we're doing it."
In fact, it wasn't just HSBC. Many shipping industry veterans were baffled by Yang's moves.
He had the money. Why was he spending it to scoop up second-hand vessels in bulk? Even for water transport, the investment seemed excessive. And in five or ten years, when this fleet all aged out at once, the cost of replacement would be massive.
Yang simply said, "As long as he agrees to the loan, that's all that matters. He doesn't have to understand. As long as the risk is manageable, we're fine."
No one knew just how bad the drought would get over the next one or two years. Nine months with no rain across all of southern China — the land would crack and split.
The mainland still had some reservoirs and groundwater — not much, but enough to limp through. Hong Kong had nothing.
After the drought, the maritime industry would explode. Even old ships would become gold mines.
These tankers, though, were purchased solely for water transport. No other purpose. That was because tankers were far more efficient than cargo ships for moving liquid.
"Understood," Zheng said.
Yang added, "Make sure the tanks are thoroughly cleaned. We're using them to carry drinking water — can't risk any oil contamination."
Tank cleaning was one of the most troublesome parts of bulk liquid transport. Switching from food-grade to petroleum or vice versa required extensive cleaning.
Some greedy companies skipped this step — transporting food oil one day and industrial chemicals the next. It was disgusting. Doing the reverse, though — chemicals first, then food — was criminal.
"Don't worry. The sellers will clean the tanks before delivery. Once the ships arrive in Hong Kong, I'll arrange for another cleaning," Zheng assured him.
"Good," Yang said. "I'll also hire a third-party inspection agency. This water is for people to drink — no room for error."
"Understood," Zheng nodded.
Yang continued, "With these five tankers, water delivery will be much more efficient. After this, continue buying regular cargo ships."
At this point, Hong Kong's total water usage wasn't what it would be in later decades. Around 100 million tons per year.
Yang had no intention of supplying the entire city. His goal was to ensure survival-level access for ordinary people, and meet some of his own business needs.
Five 50,000-ton tankers could move nearly a million tons per month. That, plus the rest of the fleet, would be enough for his purposes.
Future acquisitions would focus on positioning for the upcoming Middle East crisis. For that, he'd need standard cargo ships. Oil tankers would have to be new builds.
That evening, Yang returned home.
"Daddy~~" little Zhiwen once again toddled toward him. Yang scooped him up and tossed him in the air, earning giggles of joy.
At dinner, Yang personally fed his son some steamed egg custard.
"How's the water transport project going?" Su Yiyi asked with concern.
"Almost done," Yang replied. "I've arranged to co-build water storage stations across Hong Kong with the Water Supplies Department — each site will include a large reservoir. That way, even in emergencies, we'll have water.
As for delivery, I just signed off on the purchase of five large tankers. They'll handle water shipments exclusively. With them, we can move a million tons a month easily."
He explained the rest of the plan — it wasn't particularly complicated, though the execution was a hassle. For Yang, it was just a few decisions and orders.
Two minutes later, he had finished updating them.
"If it works, then even if the drought continues, most people will survive," Su Yiyi said.
"That's the point," Yang nodded. "Just need to make sure people can live — even if uncomfortably. Beyond that, there's not much more I can do."
The economic damage from the drought would be severe.
The poorer the family, the harder it would hit. Even with free water near squatter zones, queues were long. Waiting in line meant missing work — which meant no income.
If factories and businesses lost access to water, operations would halt. Employers wouldn't offer extra pay. It would snowball.
Theoretically, companies could let workers fetch water during downtime. But managing that fairly and efficiently was a nightmare.
"That's already amazing," Bai Yushan said. "The rest is up to individuals."
"The government's already asking people to save water on the radio," Su Yiyi added. "Should we do the same?"
"We'll live normally," Yang replied. "Bathing, laundry — that's fine. But the pool? Let's keep that shut. One fill takes over 100 tons. Let's hold off until the drought ends."
The family's villa had a mid-sized pool, which usually got refilled every few days.
Even during a drought, Yang could afford the water. But it wasn't necessary. There were other ways to stay active — no need to swim just now.
"Okay," Su Yiyi nodded.
After dinner, the family gathered to watch the evening news. On screen: reports on water shortages and Changxing's new storage sites.
"Dong-ge, after this, you'll be hailed as a saint," Bai Yushan said with a smile.
"I wouldn't go that far," Yang replied. "Most people will forget. If a few remember, that's enough."
"Then it's a good thing you have a museum," she added. "You can record all of this."
"Some of it will be documented," Yang nodded. "It's part of Hong Kong's history now."
The future museum would display parts of mainland history, of course — but local Hong Kong history wouldn't be ignored.
Though construction hadn't even started yet, Changxing Media had already begun collecting old news clippings and documents, even papers from decades or centuries ago. Building a full timeline would be of huge historical value.
Smack! Bai Yushan suddenly slapped Yang's leg. "There was a mosquito. Still had blood in it."
"Probably flew in when we opened the door," Yang muttered, rubbing his leg. It had clearly been bitten for a while.
"Mosquitoes are the worst part of this place," Su Yiyi said. "Too many trees nearby. I won't even go for evening walks anymore."
"There may be a solution," Yang said with a smile. "I got a call from Wang Zhiqun at Glory Electronics. The electric mosquito swatter is ready."
"That badminton-racket-looking thing?" Bai Yushan asked.
"Yep," Yang nodded. "Great for outdoor mosquito hunting. Perfect for summer walks."
"When do we get one?" Su Yiyi asked.
"Tomorrow night," Yang promised. "I'll bring one home."
"Good~" Both women seemed eager.
It wasn't a big deal if the adults got bitten — but if the baby did, that was unacceptable.
June 6th
Yang arrived at the Kwun Tong industrial park.
Wei Zetao and Wang Zhiqun were there to greet him personally.
"Mr. Yang," Wei smiled. "Production at the park has been going smoothly. Would you like a tour?"
"Sure," Yang nodded.
The group strolled through the facility, passing stacks of packed luggage being loaded for shipping. Nearby, several plastics factories were packaging goods into crates, ready for export.
"How many suitcases are we making per day now?" Yang asked.
"About 15,000," Wei replied. "And that number's still rising. We're waiting on more equipment from Japan. Also training more operators and maintenance staff."
"What about Changxing Shipping's transport capacity?" Yang Wendong asked.
Wei Zetao replied, "We're basically good. Our main export markets are Europe, the U.S., and Japan, which are handled by Changxing Shipping.
As for Asia, South America, and the Middle East, we go through standard international shipping firms. The volumes aren't large enough to justify dedicated routes."
"Alright," Yang nodded. "And in the industrial park, besides luggage, spin mops, and adhesive hooks, we don't have any other plastic products under our own brand, do we?"
Wei replied, "That's right. Those are our core products. The Rubik's cubes are also made here, but that only needs one workshop. The rest of the production lines are leased to other companies."
"And the comic team I asked you to recruit?" Yang asked.
Wei replied, "We found a few people. They're decent, but they still fall short of your standards. Compared to Japanese manga, they're not quite there yet."
Yang nodded. "Hong Kong is just one city, after all. The comic industry here isn't well developed. If we can't find the talent locally, go recruit from Japan. Even if they're Japanese, it's fine — offer high salaries and bring them here."
Considering his ambitions in toys and cultural products, the investment would be small. And eventually, those Japanese artists could help sell into their own market.
"Got it," Wei replied. "But Mr. Qin has another idea. He wants to try scouting at Tai Mo Shan to see if any artistic talents from the mainland might be hiding out there."
"Tai Mo Shan? Sure, no harm in trying," Yang said. "Send a truck from the Changxing Charity Foundation. Bring food, too. It'll help you connect with them."
Tai Mo Shan had become a makeshift settlement for many who fled from the mainland to Hong Kong. Life there was brutal, but after Jin Yong courageously published extensive exposés in Ming Pao, not only did the paper's sales skyrocket, but the government was pressured into action. They eventually allowed aid groups to provide support—though permits were required.
Yang had donated food in the past, and now that the Charity Foundation was operational, he let them handle ongoing efforts.
Wei said, "Mr. Qin figures anyone who made it across must have at least some education. Maybe we'll find someone useful."
"Alright, sounds good," Yang nodded. Then he turned to Wang Zhiqun. "Old Wang, shall we head over to Glory Electronics' lab?"
"Right this way," Wang said immediately.
Soon, they arrived. The lab was around 2,000 square feet and filled with electronic components. One table held a bunch of short, racket-shaped devices resembling badminton rackets.
Yang picked one up. "Feels solid. The plastic's good quality."
Wang grinned. "We owe that to Mr. Wei's help. In the Changxing Industrial Park, the suppliers bent over backward to make quality samples for us."
Glory Electronics operated out of the industrial park. One major advantage was having access to in-house plastics. If Yang's companies needed custom plastic parts, dozens of suppliers were ready to jump at the opportunity.
Yang examined the electric mosquito swatter in his hands, then slid a button upward to a position marked with a lightning bolt. "So the power is on just by sliding this up?"
"Yes," Wang said. "Come test it over here — we've got some live mosquitoes."
"Mosquitoes?" Yang raised an eyebrow. "You're not raising them, are you?"
He stepped closer and saw a sealed transparent box swarming with mosquitoes.
There was a glove built into the side so you could reach in with the device.
Snap snap snap! Wang demonstrated the swatter. In seconds, he'd electrocuted more than ten mosquitoes.
"Interesting. Let's try it ourselves," Yang said to Wei.
Both men stepped up and had their turn. Dozens more mosquitoes were zapped in short order.
"Works great," Yang nodded. "Any issues with mass production?"
"Nope," Wang replied. "The core components are just a few transistors. We're almost ready to manufacture those in-house.
After that, it's just assembly — same as making radios. As long as we've got materials, we can produce quickly."
"How about safety?" Yang asked.
"No issues. Even if someone gets zapped, it's just a small sting. Nothing serious," Wang assured him.
"How long does one battery charge last?" Yang continued.
"With the power switch on, it'll run in standby mode for about six hours," Wang explained. "Turn it off, and it lasts about a week. If you're swatting non-stop, it'll drain faster — but unless you're camping in the jungle, that's unlikely."
"Outdoors is where this thing shines," Yang said with a grin.
This was what made the electric swatter unique — other mosquito repellents weren't much use outside.
"Exactly," Wang agreed. "It's almost fun to use."
"Alright, I'll take a few with me," Yang said, satisfied.
Though not a mass-market item like a radio or kettle, the electric swatter was unique. It would carve out a niche and give Yang's electronics brand a profitable foothold.
"I'll have some delivered to your car," Wang said. "Also, Mr. Yang, the auto-shutoff electric kettle you requested? That's ready too. Want to see it?"
"You're quick," Yang said, chuckling.
They headed to another room, where several kettles stood — similar to the ones Yang remembered from his past life. Metal bodies, plastic handles.
Wang personally filled one halfway with water and started the boil.
Three minutes later, the water was boiling, steam rising.
Click! The switch popped up. The bubbling faded.
(End of Chapter)
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