Rebirth: Fan Debiao rises from the Liaobei land

June 19th, Wednesday.

Fan Debiao got up early, still dressed in the same outfit, complete with his signature sunglasses. He then counted out five thousand dollars from under his pillow, stuffing two thousand into his inner pocket and putting three thousand in an envelope.

Gangzi knocked on the door at seven o'clock: "Brother Biao, the car is ready."

There was a black Santana parked downstairs, rented for 300 yuan a day. The driver, Lao Liu, was an acquaintance of Gangzi's; he didn't talk much, but he drove steadily.

"Go to Shenyang, TCL Provincial Branch."

After leaving Kaiyuan and entering the national highway, Fan Debiao rolled down the window and smoked. In June in northern Liaoning, the corn in the fields had grown to waist height, a lush green expanse.

Old Liu glanced at him in the rearview mirror: "Mr. Fan, off to discuss a big deal?"

"A small business, just testing the waters."

"TCL is not easy to negotiate with," Lao Liu said. "I pulled one of their business managers aside, and that guy was arrogant."

Fan Debiao didn't say anything, and flicked the cigarette butt out the window.

10:00 AM, Youth Street, Shenyang, TCL Mobile Communications Liaoning Branch.

A sixteen-story glass building with a bronze plaque hanging at the entrance. Fan Debiao straightened his collar and pushed open the door.

The receptionist, a young woman with curly hair, was painting her nails: "Who are you looking for?"

"Find the business manager and discuss becoming an agent."

Do you have an appointment?

"no."

"That won't do." The young woman didn't even look up. "The manager's in a meeting."

Fan Debiao took a lipstick out of his pocket and put it on the counter—it was L'Oreal, which he had asked Awei to buy for him yesterday.

The little girl's eyes lit up: "Oh dear, this..."

"No problem," Fan Debiao laughed. "Please inform them that the original one is being used, and the owner's surname is Fan."

Five minutes later, Fan Debiao sat in the business department manager's office.

The manager, surnamed Zhao, was in his forties, overweight, with two folds of flesh visible through the collar of his white shirt. He glanced at the cigarettes Fan Debiao had brought—a soft pack of Zhonghua cigarettes—and lit one.

"From Kaiyuan? They want to become a TCL distributor?"

"Yes, city-level agent."

"Kaiyuan is under the jurisdiction of Tieling, right?" Manager Zhao exhaled a puff of smoke. "The Tieling agency was decided at the beginning of the year; it was done by Old Wang's company."

"I know." Fan Debiao placed the envelope on the table. "That's why I came to you to see if we could designate Kaiyuan as a separate area for this project."

Manager Zhao glanced at the thickness of the envelope and laughed: "Boss Fan, this isn't the proper procedure."

"Rules are rules." Fan Debiao pushed another document over. "This is my market analysis. The mobile phone penetration rate in Kaiyuan is currently less than 10%, so there's a lot of room for growth. If TCL gets in, selling 500 units a year shouldn't be a problem."

"Five hundred units?" Manager Zhao chuckled. "Do you know what the annual sales target is for a city-level distributor? It starts at a thousand units."

"Then a thousand units."

Manager Zhao flipped through the documents and suddenly asked, "How did you know 3188 would be listed in October?"

Fan Debiao's heart tightened, but he smiled and said, "I have a friend in the factory in Huizhou."

"Oh?" Manager Zhao's interest was piqued. "What kind of friend?"

"In charge of production," Fan Debiao said vaguely. "Manager Zhao, to be frank—I'm here specifically for the 3188. A white flip phone, adorned with gemstones, endorsed by Kim Hee-sun—this model is sure to be a hit. You've asked me to be the Kaiyuan distributor, and I'll be the main promoter for this one."

Manager Zhao stared at him for a while, then stubbed out his cigarette: "Even if we give you an original agency, the deposit is 80,000, and the initial order payment is 300,000. And—it's impossible to just give you the 3188; it has to be bundled with other models."

"How should I style it?"

"One to three," Manager Zhao said. "For every 3188 machine we order, we'll use three other models. That's the rule."

Fan Debiao calculated: the purchase price of the 3188 was 1,800 yuan, while the average price of other models was 1,200 yuan. A ratio of 1:3 meant that for every best-selling model sold, three ordinary models had to be sold.

"How about one to two?" he probed.

"No way," Manager Zhao shook his head. "This is the rule across the entire province. And the target of one thousand units refers to total sales, not just the sales volume of 3188."

What about the rebate?

"Complete 80% of the task, get 3 points back. Complete 100%, get 5 points back." Manager Zhao paused, "And if you exceed the target... there will be an additional bonus."

Fan Debiao understood the unspoken message: "Manager Zhao, just tell me, what should we do?"

Manager Zhao smiled: "Xiao Fan, you're a smart guy. Here's what we'll do: you pay a deposit of 20,000 yuan first, and I'll help you get it approved. I can't guarantee it will work out, but I'll definitely do my best."

"Is the deposit refundable?"

"If it becomes payment for goods, no... it's not refundable according to regulations." Manager Zhao tapped the table. "But if you really want to do it, I'll teach you a trick—go to Huizhou and find a manufacturer. The provincial company is very strict, but it's easier to negotiate with the manufacturer. If you can get authorization from the manufacturer, I'll approve it directly for you."

Fan Debiao understood. He was being asked to go to Guangdong.

"Who should we contact at the factory?"

"I'll write a note." Manager Zhao tore off a sticky note, wrote a name and phone number on it, "When you need to find this person, just say I introduced them. But..." He glanced at the envelope, "you also need to take care of things at the factory."

Fan Debiao stood up and shook hands: "Thank you, Manager Zhao."

"You're welcome." Manager Zhao put the envelope into the drawer. "I wish you all the best."

After leaving the TCL building, Fan Debiao stood by the roadside and lit a cigarette.

Old Liu drove the car over, and Gangzi asked in a low voice, "How's it going, Brother Biao?"

"I need to go to Guangdong."

"Huizhou?"

"Okay." Fan Debiao got into the car. "Let's go back to Kaiyuan first."

On his way back, he called Wu Derong.

"Mr. Wu, we've already discussed things with the provincial company; we need to go to the manufacturer."

"Guangdong?"

"Yes, Huizhou. We need to meet in person; it's hard to explain over the phone."

When are you going?

"Next week," Fan Debiao said. "First, we need to secure a shop location. I saw one across from the department store that's available for rent, 130 square meters, for 60,000 yuan a year."

"So expensive?"

"The location is good," Fan Debiao said. "Mr. Wu, if you have time, could you take a look for me? I need to prepare for my trip to Guangdong in the next couple of days."

"Okay, I'll have Awei go check it out."

"No," Fan Debiao quickly said, "You see for yourself, Awei doesn't understand this."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone: "Okay, I'll go this afternoon."

3 PM, opposite Kaiyuan Department Store.

Fan Debiao and Wu Derong squatted on the curb, staring at the empty storefront. A sign reading "For Rent" was pasted on the roller shutter door in red paper with black lettering, and the phone number had been torn in half.

"The clothing store used to go out of business," Wu Derong said. "I heard the landlord is difficult to deal with, requiring a deposit of one month's rent and six months' rent in advance."

"Sixty thousand a year, with a deposit of one month's rent and six months' rent paid upfront, that's thirty-five thousand." Fan Debiao calculated, "Adding the deposit and payment for goods, the start-up capital for renovations will be five hundred thousand."

"Are you really planning to invest that much?"

"We have no choice but to invest." Fan Debiao stood up. "In the mobile phone business, you have to invest money from the start. If your store is too small, people won't trust you; if you don't have enough stock, manufacturers won't pay attention."

Wu Derong stood up, brushing the dust off his pants: "Debiao, I'll ask something I shouldn't—how much money do you actually have?"

Fan Debiao laughed: "That's quite a hassle."

"Okay, I won't ask anymore." Wu Derong took out a cigarette. "I'll help you negotiate the shop location, try to get a deposit and three months' rent in advance. As for Guangdong... are you really going?"

"I have to go."

"one person?"

"Bring steel."

Wu Derong nodded: "Gangzi is fine. He can fight and he can handle trouble. Bring enough money. You don't know anyone there, so don't get taken advantage of."

"Know."

The two squatted there and finished their cigarettes. Across the street, the entrance to the department store was bustling with people; vendors selling candied hawthorns, watch repairmen, and shoe shiners were making a lively scene.

"De Biao," Wu Derong suddenly said, "if you really succeed, what will happen to Victoria..."

"I'm not leaving." Fan Debiao knew what he was thinking. "I'll find someone to manage the store, and I'll still work here. The vice president's salary is five thousand; I can't give it up."

Wu Derong laughed: "You little rascal."

Back in his dormitory that evening, Fan Debiao began to do the accounting.

Going to Guangdong, the airfare for two people will cost 4,000 yuan, accommodation and food will cost at least 3,000 yuan, and we need to prepare 20,000 yuan for greasing palms. That's 27,000 yuan.

If we can secure the shop space, we'll pay 35,000 upfront.

TCL's deposit is 20,000 yuan.

That adds up to 82,000.

He opened the bedside table, counted out eight stacks of banknotes, and wrapped them in newspaper. The remaining money was 934,000 in his savings account.

enough.

He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Huizhou. He has to take a plane; he's never been on a plane before. What should he wear? He's heard it's cold on planes, so he should wear an extra layer.

And Gangzi, we need to buy him a decent outfit so people can't tell he's a hoodlum.

Lost in thought, I fell asleep.

In my dream, there were white flip phones piled up like mountains, and Kim Hee-sun was dancing on the mountain.

The next morning, Fan Debiao called Gangzi to his office.

"I'm going to Guangdong next week, are you coming?"

"Go!" Gangzi's eyes lit up. "Brother Biao, I've never been outside of Northeast China before."

"Don't say anything out of line when you get there, just follow me."

"clear."

"Go buy two outfits, a shirt and dress pants, something that looks like you're in business." Fan Debiao gave him a thousand yuan. "Don't buy anything fancy, just plain stuff."

Gangzi took the money: "Brother Biao, what are you going to Guangdong for?"

"Let's talk about agency."

"Will it work?"

"It has to work out, no matter what." Fan Debiao lit a cigarette. "I've already thrown in a million. If it doesn't work out, I'll have to jump into the Pearl River."

Gangzi laughed: "Then I have to follow you, so I can rescue you if you jump."

"Get lost."

Gangzi chuckled and went out.

Fan Debiao sat there smoking, and the ashtray quickly filled up.

Heading south to Guangdong.

Once you take that step, there's no turning back.

It's either success or death.

He stubbed out his cigarette and picked up the phone to book a ticket.

"Two tickets, flying from Shenyang to Guangzhou, next Monday."