Chapter 26: Securing the Gains

The interview lasted nearly two hours, beginning with the story of the original thirty-square-meter Chen’s Dessert Shop in Sham Shui Po, tracing the journey of identifying the latent demand among industrial workers, and pioneering the mobile vending model. It covered the triumph at the Victoria Park Lunar New Year Fair, which brought instant fame, and the courageous decision to take on loans to expand, build a central kitchen, and establish twenty mobile kiosks across Kowloon, five standard storefronts, and the new factory in Kwun Tong.

"Every step we took was difficult, but we strove to make every step solid and steady," Chen Bingwen said, his voice calm and powerful. "Quality is our foundation; trust is our soul. Without these two, Chen’s would not have reached where it is today, nor could it reach tomorrow. This black sesame paste incident serves as a wake-up call and a trial for us. It has made us realize more clearly that the larger we grow, the heavier our responsibility becomes, and the more obsessive we must be in safeguarding quality and trust!"

For Lin Xiaowei, hearing these sentiments—which would later become common parlance among successful entrepreneurs—was exhilarating. He realized that this young boss possessed a depth of thought and business acumen far beyond his years. At the end, Lin specifically asked Chen to stand beside the brand-new water purification equipment, using the busy, organized production line as a backdrop, to take a photograph.

The next day, the *Hong Kong Commercial Daily* published an exclusive interview titled, "An Industrial Revolution Sparked by a Bowl of Sweet Soup!" The accompanying photo showed Chen Bingwen standing by the purification equipment, his gaze calm and bearing a composure that transcended his age.

The *Hong Kong Commercial Daily* feature was like a pebble tossed into the calm waters of Hong Kong's business community. In a villa in Deep Water Bay, Li Ka-shing, having just finished breakfast, was habitually flipping through the major newspapers. When he saw the photo of Chen Bingwen standing beside the purification equipment, along with phrases like "industrial revolution," "standardization," and "quality first"—terms that seemed ahead of their time—his gaze lingered for a moment. The future "Superman," who had started his career with plastic flowers and was then ambitiously mapping out a larger empire, let a subtle, imperceptible curve touch the corner of his mouth.

"A street-side business, yet managed with such vision. Interesting!" he muttered to himself, then casually set the paper aside. To him, the news was merely a minor interlude in his morning reading, a case study of an underdog beginning to emerge.

At the Fook Lam Moon Tea Restaurant, Zhang Shichang slammed the newspaper onto the greasy table, causing coffee to splash. "Bah! Just a stroke of luck! Selling sweet soup and daring to call himself an entrepreneur?" Despite his harsh words, as he read descriptions like "selling thousands of bowls daily," "central kitchen," and "covering thirty locations across Kowloon," a sense of indescribable agitation and a hidden jealousy welled up within him. He realized that this young man, whom he had once regarded as a mere rival, seemed to have leaped out of the circle he knew, stepping onto a fast track that he could neither understand nor catch up with.

Meanwhile, Manager Zhou Mingzhe of Wing Lung Bank took the newspaper to his morning staff meeting, pointed to Chen Bingwen’s photo, and told his team: "Look! This is the client for whom I insisted on approving a 300,000-dollar loan against all opposition! In a very short time, this Chen Bingwen has gone from a single dessert shop in Sham Shui Po to a food factory and sales network covering Kowloon, and now he’s on the front page of the *Hong Kong Commercial Daily*! This is the type of entrepreneur with real potential that our bank needs to find and support!" His tone was filled with pride; Chen’s success was, without a doubt, a shining achievement in his own career.

The impact of the interview went far beyond fame. Over the next few days, business at Chen’s various mobile kiosks and standard stores took a noticeable step up. The article became the best advertisement; customers came not only for the taste of the dessert but also out of curiosity and trust, wanting to try products from "the boss who values quality."

Gao Zhenhai reported excitedly to Chen, "Brother Wen, the Mong Kok store sold out twice this morning! The staff says many people came looking for us while holding the newspaper!"

However, having experienced the bitter black sesame paste incident, Chen Bingwen felt no trace of arrogance. Fame is a double-edged sword; the higher one is lifted, the more devastating the fall. That they had managed to turn a crisis into an opportunity was largely due to timely, sincere crisis management and the "scientific endorsement" provided by Professor Zhou’s authoritative report. But what about next time? What if the problem occurred in a more hidden link? He knew well that praise was like a bubble, ready to burst at a touch; only solid internal strength could carry Chen’s further.

Establishing an independent quality control department became his top priority. He gathered Gao Zhenhai, Zhong Qiang, and the key foremen from the Cheung Sha Wan and Kwun Tong factories.

"Everyone," Chen said, his voice low but carrying unquestionable weight, "this incident was the biggest warning bell for us. What has Chen’s relied on to reach this stage? It’s the word-of-mouth in the neighborhood, the trust of the workers, and the reputation we built at the Victoria Park fair! But all of this is built on one foundation—quality!"

His gaze swept over each person. "Previously, when we were small, we could manage by experience and a sense of responsibility. But now? We produce dozens, even hundreds of buckets of sweet soup every day, sending them to dozens of points across Kowloon! A slight mistake in any link means that what reaches the customer’s mouth isn't sweetness, but bitterness! This time it was a water issue; next time it could be a batch of raw materials, equipment cleanliness, or a moment of negligence by an operator! We cannot be this lucky every time!"

"Therefore, starting today," Chen announced loudly, "we are establishing a dedicated Quality Control Department. Its duty is singular: to ensure that every step, from the moment raw materials enter the factory to the moment the finished product reaches the sales point, meets the highest standards set by Chen’s! Substandard products are strictly forbidden from leaving the factory! I will personally select the staff for the QC department, and they will report directly to me!"

Over the next few days, Chen personally selected four of the most rigorous, meticulous, and principled people from his existing staff—two from the Cheung Sha Wan factory and two from the Kwun Tong factory. They might not have been the most skilled employees, but they were certainly the most capable of "finding faults" and the most "stubborn" about standards. Chen conducted a brief, intensive training session for them, focusing on all the critical control points of sweet soup production.

Beyond this, Chen dedicated time every day to training all employees on quality control. As a food production enterprise, if there is no awareness of quality control, trouble is inevitable. Thus, Chen now required even ordinary staff to understand and grasp the importance of quality control.

While Chen Bingwen was fully immersed in building the quality control system and solidifying the foundation of his business, the takeover storm surrounding The Wharf (Kowloon Wharf and Godown) suddenly died down under the suppression of interested parties. For several days, newspapers and radio stations reported no related news. Ever since the news of Jardine Matheson Chairman David Newbigging’s urgent plea for help from HSBC shocked the market, and The Wharf’s stock price suffered a precipitous plunge, the market had fallen into an eerie calm. The stock price fluctuated narrowly between 31 and 33 dollars, and trading volume shrunk significantly compared to the massive volumes seen previously.

Speculation about the "mysterious buyer" continued to swirl, and Li Ka-shing’s name was mentioned with increasing frequency, yet Cheung Kong Holdings maintained an impenetrable silence. Jardine Matheson, beyond announcing that they were "actively seeking solutions to protect shareholder interests," took no further substantive action.

As March arrived, the market finally changed. Led by several large buy orders, the stock price began a slow but firm climb. 35, 38, 40 dollars... the resistance levels were broken one by one, and trading volume increased moderately. A sense of repressed excitement and speculation began to permeate the market. By March 6th, it had climbed to the verge of the 46-dollar mark.

Chen Bingwen, closely monitoring the market with his "prophetic" perspective, understood the undercurrents beneath this calm. He knew very well that in the original historical trajectory, The Wharf would eventually rise to nearly 46 dollars, at which point, due to HSBC’s strong intervention and mediation, Li Ka-shing would "know when to retreat," accept HSBC’s arrangement, and abandon the takeover. Consequently, The Wharf’s stock would enter a period of sluggish decline for several months until Li Ka-shing transferred his shares to Pao Yue-kong at a favorable price, triggering another fierce takeover battle. However, by then, the two sides in the conflict would both be backed by HSBC—Pao Yue-kong and Jardine Matheson.

The financial briefing indicated The Wharf’s closing price yesterday: 45.8 dollars. This figure was infinitely close to that historical node and had almost reached the lower limit of the market’s valuation of The Wharf’s assets at that time. The window of opportunity was closing. HSBC’s will was about to be revealed; once the news of the mediation was announced, the stock price would likely fall sharply due to unmet expectations. Holding on further carried risks far greater than opportunities.

Chen Bingwen dialed Manager Zhang’s number without hesitation.

"Manager Zhang," Chen’s voice was decisive, without a hint of hesitation, "please execute a clearance for me. Sell all of my The Wharf holdings, market order."

There was a two-second silence on the other end; evidently, Manager Zhang was surprised by this sudden decision. He had assumed Chen would wait longer, hoping for a higher price point. "Mr. Chen? Are you sure? The price is 45.8, the market is still stable, there’s no news from Jardine or HSBC, perhaps you could still..."

"I am sure," Chen said with absolute certainty. "Take the profit and be safe; my goal has been achieved." He didn't offer further explanation, but his unusual decisiveness was clearly conveyed through the phone line.

"Understood!" Manager Zhang, a professional broker, replied calmly, "I will arrange it immediately, market sell-off! I will provide you with the final trade confirmation shortly."

The following time felt somewhat long. Chen sat in his office, his fingers tapping the desk unconsciously. His gaze appeared to be on the factory outside the window, but his mind was entirely focused on that silent financial transaction. Half an hour later, the phone rang again.

"Mr. Chen! All shares sold! The average transaction price was 45.6 HKD!" Manager Zhang’s voice carried a hint of relief and excitement. "Beautiful! After deducting commissions and all fees, your account balance is... 2,487,800 HKD! The funds have been transferred in full to your designated bank account. Congratulations, Mr. Chen!"

Even with mental preparation, upon hearing this exact figure, Chen’s heart pounded violently. 2.48 million! Even though Chen had calculated the sum, hearing the number stated clearly made his heart race.

"Thank you for your hard work, Manager Zhang. A pleasure doing business with you!" Chen’s voice remained steady, but a smile he couldn't suppress curled at the corners of his mouth. With this fortune—an astronomical sum for an ordinary person in 1978 Hong Kong—he would have nearly unlimited fuel and possibilities for his future development. Previously, he had needed to proceed step-by-step, accumulating funds and strength bit by bit. With this capital, Chen was ready to change the game.

However, before that, he needed to solve the problem of their living situation. The tiny, thirty-square-meter Chen’s Dessert Shop on Kweilin Street in Sham Shui Po was both their storefront and the "home" where the three of them had been cramped for over a decade. His parents squeezed into a narrow loft, while he slept downstairs on a "bed" made of a few wooden boards. The environment was cramped, damp, and lacked any privacy. Before, he had no money; he had to stretch every penny, investing all profits back into expansion. Now, he had the confidence to provide his parents, who had toiled for half their lives, and himself with a real, stable, and comfortable home.

"Dad, Mom, it’s time for us to move," Chen announced calmly while they were eating dinner that evening.

Chen Guofu was shoveling rice into his mouth; he trembled at the words, and his chopsticks nearly dropped. Wang Qiaozhen was also stunned, putting down her soup bowl and looking at Chen.

"Move... move house? Move where?" Chen Guofu’s voice was dry. "This shop... we’ve lived here for over a decade. Even though it’s a bit old and cramped, we’re used to it. Besides, if we move, what happens to the shop?" He subconsciously looked around the small space that had borne witness to half a lifetime of their joys and sorrows. Although dilapidated, it was full of memories.

"The shop will stay open," Chen said gently. "This is the root of Chen’s, our signature. But as for living, we can’t stay here anymore. The place is too small, the environment is poor, and it’s bad for your health. You’ve worked hard for half your lives; you deserve to live more comfortably."

Wang Qiaozhen’s eyes turned red. "Ah Wen, Mom knows you’re filial. But... buying an apartment must cost a lot of money, right? Even though we’ve earned some money, the factory has expenses, the workers need to be paid, and we still have to repay the bank loans... We should save money and prioritize the business."

Chen understood his parents’ concerns. They were accustomed to frugality and to calculating every cent for survival.

"Dad, Mom, don't worry." He set down his bowl and chopsticks, held his mother’s hand, and looked at his father. "I have arrangements for the money. The profit from the The Wharf stocks is enough for us to buy a nice apartment, and there will still be plenty left to support the expansion of the business. This isn't reckless spending; it’s a return on your hard work, and it’s the dignity that Chen’s deserves."

He paused, then continued, "Once we move out, the loft on the second floor can be cleared out to store raw materials or tools, and it can be used for temporary rest."

"Then... where do you want to buy an apartment?" Chen Guofu finally relented, his voice carrying a hint of imperceptible anticipation. Who wouldn't want to live in a more spacious and decent place? But previously, they had no money, so they didn't even dare to dream of it, only hoping to get a public housing unit sooner.

"Mong Kok, Golden Plaza," Chen said, having had a target in mind for some time. He wanted to buy a home, but he didn't plan on buying the final, perfect one just yet. Now was not the best time to buy real estate; a transitional apartment was sufficient for the moment. When he would truly buy would be during the 1983 stock market crash and property collapse.

"Golden Plaza was built the year before last, and the location is excellent," Chen explained. "It’s right in Mong Kok, transport is very convenient, and life is very easy." He took out the documents he had prepared, several pages of introductions from a real estate agent: "I’ve set my sights on a three-bedroom unit, about 700 square feet (around 65 square meters). With this size, it’ll be spacious for the three of us, and even if we have guests in the future, it will be enough."

"700 square feet... how much does that cost?" Wang Qiaozhen was most concerned about the price.

"The unit price is about 300 HKD per square foot," Chen said, a figure that made his parents gasp. "The total price is about 210,000."

"Two... 210,000?!" Chen Guofu’s voice changed pitch. To their past concepts, this was an astronomical figure—a huge sum that the dessert shop might not have saved in decades!

"Yes, 210,000. For us, this house is only a transition," Chen said calmly.

"A transition?" Wang Qiaozhen asked, puzzled.

Chen smiled. "Right, a transition. My career is just starting, and my focus is still in Kowloon. Buying in Mong Kok makes it convenient to manage the factory and the shops. Once the foundation is stable, I will buy you a real, large house on the Mid-Levels, facing the mountains and the sea! That will be where we truly settle down for the long term."

"Golden Plaza is just fine..." Chen Guofu nodded excitedly, his voice somewhat choked. "Listen to you, Ah Wen! Dad believes in you!"

The Mid-Levels? That was a place they never dared to imagine. Wang Qiaozhen also wiped the corners of her eyes and smiled. "Right, listen to Ah Wen! We’re moving!"