Huayu: A master director who debuted as a singer

Beiyuan Restaurant, Yuexiu District. This is a long-established garden restaurant with winding corridors and an antique charm.

In a private room called Tingtao Pavilion, cold dishes were already laid out on the round table.

When Zheng Hui followed President Wang into the room, there were already four people sitting inside.

Amidst the swirling smoke, the fat man in the very center was sticking a Zhonghua cigarette into the mouthpiece.

"Hey, President Wang! What a privilege to have you here!" The fat man stood up immediately upon seeing President Wang, his face beaming with smiles.

"Old Liu, don't give me that crap." President Wang walked over with a smile, patted the fat man on the shoulder, and then turned to introduce him to Zheng Hui.

"This is General Manager Liu, also known as Fatty Liu. He owns the No. 1 shop in Guangzhou Audio-Visual City and controls the wholesale channels in five provinces of South China."

Zheng Hui stepped forward and extended his hand: "Hello, Mr. Liu, I am Zheng Hui."

Fatty Liu looked Zheng Hui up and down, then gave him a firm shake: "Is this the handsome guy you were talking about who wanted to print a million boxes? Wow, he's really good-looking, not bad looking at that Nicholas Tse guy on TV."

President Wang then introduced the other three in turn.

The tall, thin man with gold-rimmed glasses is Mr. Chen, who specializes in the East China market.

The man next to him, wearing a floral shirt and looking shrewd, is General Manager Zhang, who is in charge of the Southwest region.

There was also a middle-aged woman who hadn't said much, just silently drinking tea; she was Sister Sun, who was in charge of the channels in North China and Northeast China.

These four people basically controlled most of China's audio-visual product wholesale network.

We sat down, and the dishes were served. A roast suckling pig platter, steamed grouper, poached chicken…

After a few rounds of drinks, President Wang steered the conversation to business.

"Everyone, the purpose of this gathering today is not just to catch up."

President Wang put down his wine glass: "I mentioned this matter with Xiao Zheng to you on the phone. One million boxes, guaranteed by White Swan. The goods are absolutely top-quality."

Fatty Liu picked up a piece of roast pork and put it in his mouth: "President Wang, we've known each other for over ten years. I'll definitely give you face. But business is business."

He put down his chopsticks and looked at Zheng Hui: "One million boxes, that's a huge quantity. You know the current market, besides those few superstars, who dares to do this?"

You say you're selling genuine products at a low price. But the saying "you get what you pay for" sometimes applies in our business.

The wholesale price of three yuan is indeed tempting. But if the song isn't good, I wouldn't bother taking up warehouse space even if it were just three mao (0.3 yuan).

The other bosses nodded in agreement.

Mr. Zhang, the man in the floral shirt, chimed in, "Yeah, students these days have really discerning ears. They won't listen to anything but Hong Kong and Taiwan songs, and they won't listen to anything but love songs. Boss Zheng, you're not famous, and supposedly you're singing some kind of inspirational song... to be honest, that's a bit dubious."

Zheng Hui didn't say anything. He stood up, took out the Walkman from his briefcase, and connected it to the karaoke sound system in the corner of the private room.

"Bosses, whether the goods are good or not, you can tell by listening."

Zheng Hui pressed play, and the intro to "Stubborn" began to play in the private room.

The powerful drumbeats instantly drowned out the sounds of clinking glasses and exchanging toasts at the table.

"Since I'm different from the world, then let me be different..."

After the song finished playing, Zheng Hui didn't stop and immediately switched to "The Brightest Star in the Night Sky".

The originally restless rock music turned into a heartfelt chant. After a few songs, Zheng Hui turned off the sound system, and the private room was quiet for a few seconds.

"How is it?" President Wang asked with a smile, twirling his wine glass in his hand.

Fatty Liu downed the drink in his glass in one gulp: "Awesome! Listening to this song really gets that fire going. It's way better than those whiny tunes."

Sister Sun nodded and said, "That song, 'The Brightest Star in the Night Sky,' is beautiful."

Mr. Chen, who wears glasses, pushed them up: "The song is good, and the production quality is high. You can tell they invested a lot. A purchase price of three yuan and a retail price of eight yuan... that profit margin is really impressive."

He looked at Zheng Hui: "But, Boss Zheng, in business, we don't act until we see the benefits. It's early August now, and there's still more than half a month before school starts in September."

Whether this song will be a hit at school, none of us can guarantee it. Even if I bought all one million boxes right now, I couldn't stomach it, and I wouldn't dare to.

Zheng Hui smiled, sat back down, and poured himself a cup of tea: "I understand the concerns of you bosses. I'm not here today to ask you to pay up and take all the goods away right now."

"I just need everyone to give me a chance and pave the way. The tapes are still on the production line and will be shipped in about half a month."

My request isn't high. Each of you bosses, please take ten or twenty thousand boxes and distribute them to your shops to test the waters.

"I won't accept any prepayment for these 10,000 to 20,000 boxes. Once the goods arrive, you can sell them first. Settle the accounts after they're sold out."

Upon hearing this, the faces of the several bosses changed.

No prepayment required, just dropshipping and consignment sales? That puts all the risk on your own shoulders.

Zheng Hui continued, "If sales are good, the remaining 800,000 boxes for the September back-to-school season can be purchased by you based on your own ability. At that time, it will be cash on delivery."

Fatty Liu slammed his hand on the table, making the plates rattle: "Great! That's satisfying! I love young people with this kind of boldness!"

He pointed at Zheng Hui: "Based on what you said, and the quality of this song, I'll take 20,000 boxes as soon as they're released! If the response from the schools is good, I, Fatty Liu, will buy half of the remaining hundreds of thousands of boxes!"

"Hey, Lao Liu, you're being greedy."

Mr. Zhang, the owner of the floral shirt, was displeased: "There are quite a few schools in the Southwest, and I want 20,000 boxes to try it out. If it's a hit, we'll split it equally; nobody can hog it all."

Sister Sun smiled and said, "I can handle some of the stuff from the Northeast. Let's start with 15,000 boxes."

After some calculation, Mr. Chen said, "The East China market is big, I'll take 25,000."

In just a few words, the group divided up the first batch of trial stock.

They're all shrewd people. The song is genuinely good, and the price is incredibly competitive. Zheng Hui is also willing to take on the initial risk of stocking the shelves. Only a fool wouldn't do a deal that's guaranteed to make a profit.

As for any betting agreements or pledges, they are completely unnecessary.

Everyone here is quite wealthy; ten or twenty thousand cassette tapes would only cost them a few tens of thousands of yuan. What they value is President Wang's reputation, but even more so, it's Zheng Hui's style of doing things.

Understand the rules and dare to take responsibility.

Fatty Liu raised his glass: "Come on, let's drink! I wish Boss Zheng a meteoric rise to fame! When he becomes a big star, don't forget us tape sellers!"

Zheng Hui raised his teacup: "Thank you all for your kind words. You are all my benefactors. I can forget everyone but you all."

The meal lasted until after nine o'clock, and both hosts and guests enjoyed themselves immensely.

After seeing off a few slightly tipsy restaurant owners, President Wang stood at the entrance of the restaurant. A gust of night wind sobered him up a bit.

"Xiao Zheng, the road's paved." President Wang patted Zheng Hui on the back. "So, what are your plans for the next two weeks? Stay in Guangzhou and keep an eye on things?"

Zheng Hui shook his head and looked towards the southern night sky.

"I need to go back to Macau."

"Back to Macau?"

"Hmm." Zheng Hui didn't elaborate, "I have some personal matters to take care of."

Actually, he wanted to go back and buy some things. It was early August 1998, the most critical moment of the financial crisis, and he couldn't let the money in his bank account sit idle.

President Wang didn't ask any more questions and nodded: "Okay, then go ahead. I'll take care of things here, nothing will go wrong. We'll have a celebration drink when you come back."

Zheng Hui hailed a taxi and opened the car door.

"See you later, President."

The red taxi blended into the dazzling nightscape of Guangzhou and headed towards the train station.