Rebirth: Fan Debiao rises from the Liaobei land

Monday, June 17th.

As dawn broke, the ashtray beside Fan Debiao's bed was overflowing with cigarette butts. Even the ruthless Biao Ge from northern Liaoning was so excited about the million-dollar prize he was about to receive that he couldn't sleep all night.

I called Wu Derong at seven o'clock: "Mr. Wu, I need to ask for leave today. There's an urgent matter back home."

"What's up? Do you need any help?"

"No need, it's a small matter, I can handle it myself."

I hung up the phone, washed my face, put on my neatest clothes, and pulled the lottery ticket from under my pillow, stuffing it into my inner pocket. At 7:20, I hailed a rickshaw and headed straight for the long-distance bus station.

10:30 AM, Shenyang Sports Lottery Center.

In the prize redemption room, the bald director pushed up his glasses: "Hey, this one? Young man, you've got some good luck! You've hit the jackpot this time!"

Fan Debiao clasped his hands in a fist and laughed, "Luck, luck!"

The director opened a drawer and took out a stack of forms: "One million two hundred and seventy thousand, 20% tax, net gain one million one hundred and sixty thousand. What to do? Cash or bank transfer?"

"Transfer the money," Fan Debiao said. "In two installments: 500,000 to ICBC and 456,000 to CCB. Also, withdraw 60,000 in cash."

"You need so much cash?"

"Pay back the debt."

The formalities took more than forty minutes. Fan Debiao pressed eight red fingerprints and signed twelve names. Finally, he received two transfer checks and five stacks of banknotes—delivered by bank staff, wrapped in newspaper.

Fan Debiao stuffed the money into his cloth bag and turned to go to the bank next door.

After everything was settled, the newly minted millionaire sat on the bus back to Kaiyuan and couldn't help but think, "This money can't just sit there. I have to make it generate more money. With so many opportunities over the years, I, Fan Debiao, am going to ride one of them and take off."

As for what to do, I'd already decided: resell mobile phones. 2002 was the year mobile phones were about to take off. There were already some mobile phone shops on the streets of Kaiyuan, but they were all small-scale operations, selling grey market goods, modified phones, and secondhand phones. Legitimate brand agents? None.

He remembered clearly: In October 2002, the TCL Lingyun 3188 was launched, a white flip phone with faux gemstones, endorsed by Kim Hee-sun. It sold like hotcakes as soon as it came out, retailing for 2,500 yuan, with provincial distributors getting it for 1,800 yuan, making a profit of 700 yuan per unit. There was also the Xiaxin A8, a dancing phone with a color screen and polyphonic ringtones; it was expected to become a ubiquitous model the following year.

But obtaining a distributorship is difficult. For TCL's provincial-level exclusive distribution rights, the deposit plus the initial payment for goods costs between 800,000 and 1.2 million yuan. He barely met the minimum requirement.

At 3 p.m., Fan Debiao returned to Kaiyuan. He didn't go back to his dormitory, but went straight to Victoria.

Wu Derong was in his office when he saw him come in: "Finished with the work?"

"All done." Fan Debiao closed the door. "Mr. Wu, are you free tonight? Want some drinks?"

"Sure, I was just about to have a chat with you."

Six o'clock in the evening, in a private room on the third floor of Victoria.

The dishes were arranged by Awei. The wine was from Beidacang, which Fan Debiao specially asked the kitchen to open.

After three cups of wine, Fan Debiao took out a newspaper package from his cloth bag and placed it on the table.

"What is that?" Wu Derong asked.

"Please open it and take a look."

Wu Derong unfolded the newspaper; inside were three stacks of hundred-yuan bills. He was stunned: "What does this mean?"

"Here's your money back." Fan Debiao poured him a full glass of wine. "It's the 30,000 yuan dowry I borrowed back then."

"Didn't I say there was no rush?"

"Whether it's urgent or not, I have to repay you." Fan Debiao raised his glass. "This glass is for you. I remember your kindness in helping me in my time of need."

The two clinked glasses.

Wu Derong downed his drink, picked up a piece of sweet and sour pork, and said, "So, what else is there?"

Fan Debiao put down his wine glass: "Mr. Wu, I'd like to discuss a business deal with you. We'll be making mobile phones, acting as legitimate agents."

Wu Derong chuckled: "Here we go again. Didn't I tell you last time that I don't understand that stuff?"

"This time it's different." Fan Debiao leaned forward. "The TCL Lingyun 3188 will be released before the end of the year, a white flip phone. The Xiaxin A8 has a color screen that dances. These two models are sure to be hits next year."

How did you know?

"I've been researching this for half a year." Fan Debiao lit a cigarette for him. "Nokia and Motorola are too expensive right now, and domestic phones are just right in the middle. TCL invested 200 million yuan this year in GG, and Xiamen hired Gigi Leung as their spokesperson. These two companies are about to make a big push."

Wu Derong took a drag of his cigarette: "How much is the agency fee?"

"City distributor." Fan Debiao calculated for him, "TCL's deposit is 80,000, and Xiaxin's is 60,000, that's 140,000. The initial payment for both models will start at 500,000—the manufacturer won't just give us the best-selling model, they'll definitely ship it along with other models."

"Anything else?"

"Renting a shop in the most bustling area of ​​Kaiyuan would cost 80,000 yuan a year. Renovation, counter, and signboard would cost another 50,000 yuan. Hiring two employees would cost 3,000 yuan a month, plus a deposit and three months' rent upfront, totaling 12,000 yuan. And that doesn't even include working capital." Fan Debiao counted on his fingers, "Adding it all up, it's easily over 800,000 yuan."

Wu Derong stared at him: "You have a million?"

"Yes," Fan Debiao said honestly, "to tell you the truth, I made a small fortune!"

"How many?"

"Enough."

Wu Derong laughed: "You're still keeping it from me."

"It's not that I'm hiding anything." Fan Debiao poured him a drink. "Mr. Wu, I'd like to involve you in this project."

"What should we do?"

"Let's go into partnership," Fan Debiao said. "I'll put in 840,000, and you'll put in 160,000, making a total of one million. I'll have 85% of the shares, and you'll have 15%. You don't need to worry about the operations; just help me smooth things over—with the industry and commerce bureau, the tax bureau, and the TCL branch in the province."

"Fifteen is too few."

"How much would you like?"

"twenty."

"Sixteen," Fan Debiao insisted. "Mr. Wu, you're offering 160,000, which is auspicious for the number sixteen."

Wu Derong laughed: "You've got a good grasp of the numbers. What if I refuse?"

"Then I'll do it myself," Fan Debiao said decisively, "It just takes more effort."

The room fell silent. The sound of a waiter clearing tables could be heard outside the window, a clanging and tinkling noise.

Wu Derong stubbed out his cigarette: "Okay. But I need to check out the goods first. You said that Lingyun 3188 only launched in October, how do you know it will be a hit?"

"Trust me this once." Fan Debiao stood up. "Mr. Wu, have I messed up anything during my months at Victoria?"

Wu Derong thought for a moment and shook his head.

"Then trust me one more time," Fan Debiao said. "This deal is done. From now on, I'll take care of all of Victoria's brothers' cell phones, at cost price."

Wu Derong finally nodded: "Okay. I'll pay the 160,000. When do I need the money?"

"Next week," Fan Debiao said, extending his hand. "I'll go to TCL's provincial branch to get a feel for things."

The two clinked glasses again.

Wu Derong picked up a piece of fatty intestine and chewed it for a while before saying, "Why do you have to drag me along?"

"Three reasons," Fan Debiao held up three fingers. "First, you've been kind to me, and I must repay you. Second, you have extensive connections in Kaiyuan; a single word from you is often more effective than ten days of my running around. Third..."

He paused for a moment, then said, "This business is risky. If we lose money, I can't bear it all by myself."

Wu Derong laughed: "You little rascal, you've told the truth."

"If I don't tell you the truth, who will I tell?"

"Alright." Wu Derong downed his drink. "But Debiao, I have to remind you—business has its ups and downs, don't bet all your savings."

I know what I'm doing.

They drank until 8:30, then left the private room.

Gangzi was standing at the top of the stairs when he saw them coming down: "Brother Biao, Boss Wu."

Fan Debiao patted him on the shoulder: "Take President Wu back."

"No need, I'll stroll back." Wu Derong waved his hand and walked towards the door. Halfway there, he turned back. "Debiao, how's your niece... doing at the trading company?"

Fan Debiao's heart tightened: "It's alright."

"If you're not happy with your work, just let me know," Wu Derong said, then pushed open the door and left.

Gangzi leaned closer: "Brother Biao, what does Boss Wu mean?"

"It's nothing special." Fan Debiao lit a cigarette. "Keep a close eye on things tonight. I'm going back."

"become."