RNP Chapter 106 8 Years
Chapter 106 8 Years
Lin Zhou arrived at his office early this morning, tossed a stack of newspapers onto his desk, went to the boss's chair, plopped down, leaned back, and then pressed a button on the phone. "Secretary Chen, could you make me a cup of tea? Thank you!"
My gaze fell on the newspaper on the table, where a line of small print stood out: "Hong Kong Entertainment Gossip News apologizes for its previous false report and pays HK$200,000 in damages to the owner of Chung Wah Records for reputational loss."
Next to it were several small statements, all from tabloids that had previously followed suit and spread rumors. Now they were all meek and cautious, even their headlines were timid.
Lin Zhou smirked and casually pushed the newspaper aside. These clowns were nothing to fear; the real masterminds had long since been humiliated and forced to leave Hong Kong.
Zhou Qiyuan, that guy who dared to secretly collude with tabloids to spread rumors about Zhao Yazhi, an artist signed with Zhonghua Records, just because he had some power in Universal Music's Hong Kong branch, is probably now so dejected that he can't even find the right words to cry.
A few days ago, a letter of accountability from Universal Music's headquarters landed directly on the desk of the Hong Kong branch.
Zhonghua Group's legal department was no pushover. They submitted a series of documents with clear chains of evidence, which not only confirmed Zhou Qiyuan's defamation but also uncovered his embezzlement of company funds by abusing his position.
The outcome was predictable: Universal Music Group fired Zhou Qiyuan without hesitation and ordered him to compensate Zhonghua Group for economic losses of HK$500,000.
In 1970s Hong Kong, 500,000 was enough to buy a decent villa on the Mid-Levels. Since he had already lost money, Lin Zhou had the lawsuit dropped.
Zhou Qiyuan emptied his pockets to scrape together the compensation, and could no longer stay in Hong Kong. He had no choice but to pack his bags overnight and slink onto a flight to the United States.
I heard that on the day he left, not a single person came to see him off. His former drinking buddies, who used to fawn over him, now avoided him like the plague.
Time flies, and in the blink of an eye, it's already the 1980s!
Lin Zhou stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window in his office, slowly smoking. He flicked the ash from his cigarette, and then heard footsteps behind him. It was his secretary, Chen Man, who had brought him a new report.
Lin Zhou felt pleased with the figures on the report. In just five years, from 1975 to 1980, Zhonghua Group had risen like a rocket.
The company paid over ten million Hong Kong dollars in taxes every year, making it one of the top companies in Hong Kong. Even the financial officials of the Governor's Office in Hong Kong would address Lin Zhou respectfully as "Mr. Lin".
Zhonghua Industrial Park is now completely transformed. When Lin Zhou first built his factory here, it was a barren wasteland, but now it is filled with factories and the roar of machinery.
The park's perimeter wall has been expanded repeatedly, from less than 100 acres initially to several square kilometers now.
Every morning, more than 35,000 workers, dressed in uniform overalls, march into the workshop in a grand procession. The scene is nothing short of a sea of people.
The speed at which handheld consoles were being updated was something that even Nintendo, the Japanese game company, could not match.
From the first-generation bulky black-and-white handheld console to today's fifth-generation product, with its color screen, built-in sound effects, and doubled battery life, each upgrade has triggered a buying frenzy in the market.
Even more surprisingly, Lin Zhou had already put the cartridge-based game console, later known as Little Tyrant, onto the production line ahead of schedule. This product, which would later sweep across China, ignited the home entertainment market as soon as it was launched in Hong Kong in the 1980s.
Every day, the arcade machines in the mall are packed with parents and children queuing up.
Orders poured in like snowflakes, forcing the factory's production lines to operate around the clock. Overtime pay for the workers kept increasing, but they remained highly motivated—after all, working at Zhonghua meant much higher wages than at other factories.
"Boss, Manager Zhao has sent word that Zhonghua Security's service fee has increased by another 10%." Secretary Chen Man's voice interrupted Lin Zhou's thoughts.
Lin Zhou smiled. Zhao Jianjun is getting better and better at doing business.
Zhonghua Security was initially established solely to protect the Zhonghua Daily. Unexpectedly, over the years, through professional training and a rigorous work ethic, it has earned a formidable reputation in Hong Kong.
Those wealthy business owners are most afraid of being attacked when they go out or having their homes burglarized.
Previously, they either hired foreign bodyguards or local gang members; the former was expensive, and the latter was of questionable character. The emergence of Zhonghua Security filled this gap perfectly.
Security personnel with military backgrounds are skilled, disciplined, and capable of protecting personal safety as well as handling various emergencies.
Gradually, hiring bodyguards from Chung Wah Security became a trend among Hong Kong's wealthy circles.
Zhao Jianjun was a smart man; seeing the increasing demand, he decisively raised his service prices. Even so, customers continued to flock to his door.
"Good for the rise," Lin Zhou nodded. "Tell Manager Zhao that discipline must be strictly enforced, and we mustn't tarnish Zhonghua's reputation."
The secretary responded and handed over a copy of the "Zhonghua Daily".
The front page featured Lin Zhou's latest serialized novel. The eye-catching title, coupled with a captivating excerpt, made it irresistible to read on.
The Hong Kong Chinese Daily News is now the most popular newspaper in Hong Kong, with sales far exceeding those of its competitors. All of this is thanks to Lin Zhou's efforts.
Every year, he would "print out" a novel from his computer in the space that would later become a huge hit and submit it to a newspaper for serialization. The genres were diverse, including martial arts, fantasy, romance, suspense, and science fiction, and each one was captivating.
Every time Lin Zhou placed the thick manuscript on the desk of editor-in-chief Chen Jingzhi, the veteran journalist would tremble with excitement.
Looking at the dramatic plot and vivid characters, and then at the exceptionally talented Lin Zhou in front of him, his admiration was almost overflowing.
"Mr. Lin, you're a genius! Even that guy from Ming Pao can't match your output!" This was the sentence Chen Jingzhi said most often whenever he saw Lin Zhou.
Lin Zhou simply smiled and remained silent. He was certainly not a genius; he just had a slight advantage over others.
Besides newspapers, Zhonghua Records also enjoyed smooth sailing in its development.
When talking about Zhonghua Records, one cannot help but mention Zhao Yazhi.
In 1974, the song "A Thousand Songs" released by Zhonghua Records burst onto the scene. Performed by Zhao Yazhi, it instantly became a hit throughout Hong Kong. The melodious tune could be heard everywhere, from the streets and alleys to radio stations and shopping malls.
This song not only transformed Zhao Yazhi from Miss Hong Kong into a pop star, making her an instant sensation, but also helped the newly established Chung Wah Records gain a foothold in the fiercely competitive Hong Kong music scene.
After that, Zhonghua Records launched several new artists signed in the same batch and released several albums one after another.
Lin Zhou only gave Zhao Yazhi the song "A Thousand Songs". The rest of the songs were acquired by professional songwriters. Lin Zhou believed that Hong Kong was now in the era of radio and vinyl records. Even if there were good songs, there would be no greater profit. They could only wait for the golden age to come.
Although the acquired songs were of decent quality, they ultimately lacked the potential to become hits, and their release was lukewarm, failing to create much of a stir.
However, Lin Zhou was not in a hurry. He had his record company participate in the Miss Hong Kong pageant every year, selecting newcomers with singing talent from the contestants and nurturing them gradually.
If we take a long-term view, we'll eventually see the next "Zhao Yazhi".
Standing by the window, Lin Zhou's gaze crossed the strait and looked northward.
That place is the inland area.
It was now 1980, and the spring breeze of reform had swept across the land. The policy of attracting investment was like a thunderclap, awakening the dormant market.
Lin Zhou had been waiting for this day for far too long.
Hong Kong may be wonderful, but it's still a small place. The real economy is nearing its ceiling.
Workers' wages are rising, land resources are becoming increasingly scarce, and production costs are constantly climbing. Continuing to cling to Hong Kong offers very limited room for development.
But the mainland is a vast and boundless new world.
It boasts abundant resources, a vast labor market, and a consumer base with unlimited potential. More importantly, it enjoys strong government policy support.
Lin Zhou took a deep drag of his cigarette, the smoke swirling in his lungs before he slowly exhaled.
His gaze became sharp and resolute.