Chapter 316: Woven Bags and Family Harmony
Wei Zetao responded, "I've looked into it. Most of the paper mills in Taiwan use recycled paper, mostly sourced from Europe and the U.S. Paper consumption is extremely high over there, so there's plenty of wastepaper. Local companies collect it, then ship it to developing countries to be recycled. Reprocessing it in the West would be too costly and too polluting."
"So this A4 paper," Yang Wendong asked, picking up a sheet of office paper, "is it made from recycled paper too?"
Wei Zetao said, "Not necessarily. It could be recycled paper, or it could be made from virgin pulp. Toilet paper is the same. It depends on the cost and the brand's market position. Paper made from waste is cheaper but lower quality. Each has its advantages. Most users can't tell the difference anyway.
Even for our Post-it notes, we use both types of paper. At the retail end, regular consumers wouldn't know the difference."
"That's true," Yang Wendong nodded. "Post-its are essentially disposable. Their quality demands are even lower than A4 paper."
Office paper needed to support printing, drawing, faxes, even typewriting. Poor-quality paper could fail. But Post-its? They were often used to scribble a few words and tossed away.
Wei Zetao continued, "Exactly. So we can totally build a factory in Taiwan, modeled after Yung Feng Paper Mill. The local industry is well-developed, and the tech is already there.
As for raw materials, we have an edge. Our ships often return from the U.S. empty. We can load them with wastepaper, compressed into bales, and drop it off in Taiwan en route. It doesn't slow anything down."
That made a lot of sense. Much of Hong Kong's trade with Western nations was export-heavy. Containers went out full and came back empty—or nearly so.
"This is a great idea," Yang Wendong laughed.
Before containerization, transportation costs were a huge concern. In fact, many Western countries still retained low-end textile industries simply because shipping from Asia was too expensive.
Wei Zetao said, "Then I'll send a team to Taiwan to scout for a suitable location and begin discussions on building the plant."
"Good," Yang Wendong nodded. "Look for a place close to a water source and near a port. Something in the middle ground."
"Understood."
Yang Wendong asked, "What about the chemicals? Are they produced locally in Taiwan or imported?"
"There's a chemical industry base in Taiwan," Wei Zetao said. "They can produce strong acids and bases. Most of the chemicals used in papermaking are available locally. And even if something's missing, if the foundation is there and the demand is high, they can manufacture it."
"Alright. What about the equipment? Is that made locally too?"
"No. Yung Feng's machinery comes from Japan. Taiwan can't make that kind of equipment yet—it's too niche and the market's too small. No one's invested in developing it."
"Then we'll also source our equipment from Japan. But the plant must have wastewater treatment facilities. I'm not saying it has to be zero-emissions, but at least meet regulatory standards—preferably exceed them a bit."
Environmental concerns were becoming a global trend. Taiwan might not yet be as strict as Western countries, but they definitely wouldn't tolerate polluted rivers. The local population would riot.
Historically, RCA had secretly dumped industrial waste deep into Taiwan's groundwater, precisely to avoid visible surface pollution—an indirect response to local environmental rules.
Besides, Taiwan was a Chinese-speaking region. Any pollution scandal would damage Yang Wendong's reputation. Better to avoid it altogether.
Wei Zetao nodded. "No problem, Mr. Yang. The Japanese have gotten stricter about pollution too—especially after the Minamata disease scandal. Their equipment now includes full filtration and treatment systems."
"Good," Yang Wendong said.
Recycling wastepaper into usable product required heavy use of strong acids and alkalis, generating vast amounts of wastewater contaminated with organics, heavy metals, and toxins.
Even if Hong Kong had enough water, the lack of local chemical manufacturing made papermaking unfeasible. Importing those dangerous chemicals was too costly—and risky. Most shipping companies wouldn't even accept strong acids for transport. It required specialized vessels and international certifications.
That also ruled out Southeast Asia for now. The region lacked a chemical industry base, and without local government backing, foreign investment would carry significant risk.
Taiwan was, comparatively, a much better option.
—
That afternoon, Yang Wendong stepped back into the factory grounds.
Not far off, several workers were pushing hydraulic carts. The carts were loaded with metal cages filled with cloth bags, bulging with contents.
Upon seeing Yang Wendong and Wei Zetao, one worker ran over and greeted them. "Good day, Mr. Yang! Good day, Mr. Wei!"
"What's all this?" Yang Wendong asked casually.
"We're preparing the company's New Year benefit for the workers—ten catties of rice per person."
"Ah." Yang Wendong walked over, touched one of the bags, and said, "Alright, carry on. Thank you for your hard work."
"It's our duty," the man said with a grin. "Everyone's really grateful to Mr. Yang for the rice!"
Yang Wendong smiled as the group returned to their tasks.
Turning to Wei Zetao, he asked, "Old Wei, we have plastic bags now, and they're replacing small paper and cloth bags. Can we make a large plastic bag to replace those cloth sacks that carry 50 to 100 kilos?"
In just half a year, Changxing Industries had ramped up plastic bag production by several dozen times. With capital, manpower, and market demand, development was fast.
Because the product's value was low, it had been classified under "miscellaneous" in financial reports. But at this rate, it could soon become a core product—even if the margins were thin.
If they could make standard plastic bags, then woven plastic sacks—like those used for rice—should be next. They were incredibly useful across the economy.
"Large plastic bags? They'd need to be thick," Wei Zetao said after a moment. "But if they're too thick, they'll lose flexibility."
Yang Wendong said, "Check if Western manufacturers have a method for making flat plastic yarns—kind of like thin strips, almost like paper.
My idea is to weave those strips into bags. If they're not solid plastic, they'd be lighter and more flexible."
He wasn't sure why such large plastic bags didn't already exist in his past life. Maybe they were tried and failed, or maybe the tech wasn't there. In any case, he wouldn't waste time on something that was a proven dead end.
What did exist widely was the plastic woven sack—also known in China as the "snake skin bag."
"Flat plastic yarn?" Wei Zetao mused. "That should be possible. There's something similar in the steel industry. Plastic is different, but the concept should work.
The only issue is that woven plastic sacks aren't waterproof, right?"
Yang Wendong thought back to the bags of his youth. "The outer weave isn't waterproof, true. But if we add an inner liner—a layer of normal plastic—then it should work."
"Brilliant!" Wei Zetao exclaimed. "That could replace most cloth sacks—especially waterproof ones, which are quite expensive."
"But it won't be easy," Yang Wendong added. "First, we need a machine that can extrude plastic into flat strands. Then another to weave those strands into sacks. Then one more to insert and seal the inner plastic layer.
You can't do that by hand. It's too slow. We'll need a fully integrated production line, and building that won't be easy."
Even if Hong Kong's labor was cheap, some products simply required machines. For example, early Post-it note production—if it were done manually, the entire population of Hong Kong wouldn't be enough to meet global demand.
Plastic bags and woven sacks were mass-market products. Even with a patent, they needed to be low-cost to succeed—like Coca-Cola.
Wei Zetao thought it over and said, "We'll probably have to ask Japanese engineering firms to design the equipment. Dongsheng Machinery won't be able to handle this."
"Then talk to the Japanese," Yang Wendong said. "For a long time to come, we'll need to work with them on these custom machinery projects."
There weren't many countries in the world at this time with the industrial foundation to handle non-standard equipment design. In Asia, Japan was essentially the only option.
—
Soon, it was January 24, the Lunar New Year.
At the Yang family villa, red decorations covered every surface. New couplets had been pasted on the doors, each line written in Yang Wendong's own calligraphy.
"Not bad," he said, standing back to admire his work. "Wasn't a waste of that half-month of practice."
Su Yiyi smiled. "Your opinion doesn't count. Why don't you try selling them on the street and see how many people buy them?"
"Don't be so mean," Yang Wendong replied, then turned to his son in his arms. "Zhiwen, do you think Daddy's calligraphy looks good?"
"Good~" little Zhiwen said without even glancing up, completely absorbed in his toy.
"See?" Yang Wendong laughed.
"Then write a few more," Su Yiyi said. "I'm going to the kitchen. When you're done, come help out. That tomato fish you made last time wasn't bad."
"Alright," Yang Wendong replied.
It was tradition in the Yang household to cook all New Year's dishes themselves.
—
That evening, the dinner table was full.
There was tomato fish by Yang Wendong, meatballs fried by Su Yiyi, and the rest handled by Auntie Guo.
"Let's raise a glass," Yang Wendong said, lifting his wine. "To a new year of good health and peace for all of us."
The wine was a mild Australian red. Everyone could drink—except for Bai Yushan, who was pregnant and held up a glass of milk instead.
"Health and peace are what matter most," Auntie Guo said with a smile.
The Yang family had become increasingly protective. As Yang Wendong's fame and influence grew, every family member had bodyguards. Yang Wendong himself had a dedicated doctor, a nutritionist, and even a live-in care team.
"To family and harmony," Bai Yushan said, raising her milk.
"Cheers~" everyone replied together.
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