Huayu: A master director who debuted as a singer

As night falls, the warehouse area of ​​the Swan Audio-Visual Reproduction Factory in Panyu, Guangzhou, is brightly lit.

A Jinbei Haishi van was parked in front of the warehouse. Zheng Hui sat in the car with the window half down. In the distance, four cars with license plates from different provinces kicked up dust and screeched to a halt in the open space in front of the warehouse.

The car door opened, and Fatty Liu took the lead, carrying a black canvas bag, his fat face jiggling as he ran.

Following behind were General Manager Zhang, General Manager Chen, and Sister Sun, each carrying a heavy bag.

"Brother Zheng! Boss Zheng! Help!" Fatty Liu shouted before he even reached him, "Out of stock! Completely out of stock!"

Zheng Hui got out of the car and greeted the bosses with a smile: "You all look like you've made a fortune! Come on in, let's talk."

In the office, Fatty Liu put his canvas bag on the table, the zipper popped open, revealing a bundle of neatly tied hundred-yuan bills inside.

"This is the balance payment for the last 20,000 boxes, plus the amount for this additional order! I want 150,000 boxes! Cash! It's all here!"

Not to be outdone, General Manager Zhang slammed his money bag on the table: "I want 150,000 boxes too! Boss Zheng, we had an agreement, the Southwest region is mine, you can't give all the goods to Lao Liu!"

Mr. Chen was quick to hand over the money: "The East China market is huge, even 150,000 boxes would be too little for me. Mr. Zheng, here's the cash."

Sister Sun put the money on the chair and went straight to tug at Zheng Hui's sleeve: "Brother, they're really pressing us from the Northeast, they've been calling non-stop. Ship the goods to me first, and I'll introduce you to someone later!"

Four people, four piles of money.

At a selling price of three yuan, each person would sell 150,000 boxes, totaling 450,000 yuan. For four people, that's 1.8 million yuan.

Adding to the 240,000 yuan from the previous 80,000 boxes, there was a total of 2.04 million yuan in cash piled on the table.

Zheng Hui glanced at Chen Jianguo, who nodded, took out a banknote detector, and plugged it in.

"Sizzle sizzle..."

The sound of the banknote detector spitting out banknotes was particularly pleasant in the office.

The four bosses didn't rush him; they just watched Chen Jianguo check the banknotes. With each bundle of banknotes going through the machine, they felt a little more at ease.

Half an hour later, Chen Jianguo looked up, wrote down the last number in his notebook, and nodded to Zheng Hui: "The number is correct, two million four hundred thousand."

Zheng Hui stood up and dusted off his hands.

"Dashan, tell the workers to load the truck."

"Okay!"

The stevedores, who had been waiting for a long time, rushed in pushing their carts.

"150,000 boxes for Mr. Liu!"

"150,000 boxes for Mr. Zhang!"

Boxes of tapes were loaded onto trucks, and the warehouse inventory was dwindling at an alarming rate.

The original one million cassette tapes were completely stocked up, but today the White Swan Publishing House took away another 200,000 tapes (White Swan also placed a new order for 120,000 to replenish stock plus the 80,000 from the first batch that were not taken away).

These four gentlemen have now taken away 600,000 boxes, in addition to the 80,000 boxes that were sent out before.

The one million boxes that President Wang and Director Liu once thought was an astronomical figure are now just empty shelves and dust covering the floor in the warehouse.

It was all cleared out; one million cassette tapes were sold out in a single day.

After the four Gods of Wealth left, the warehouse fell silent.

Factory Director Li was standing next to Zheng Hui, looking at the empty warehouse: "Boss Zheng, that's it... gone?"

Zheng Hui put the 2.04 million yuan in cash into two large canvas bags and let Lin Dashan and Chen Jianguo each carry one.

Zheng Hui turned to Deputy Factory Director Lin: "That's all. Director Li, call the production workers back. Three shifts, keep the machines running."

"We need to print more?" Factory Director Li's eyes widened.

Zheng Hui pointed to the two canvas bags full of money: "I'll go to the company to find President Wang and sign a new contract. This time, I want to add two million boxes."

"Two...two million?" Factory Director Li felt like he was suffocating.

"Yes, two million. The molds are all there, and you've prepared enough raw materials. I want this machine running 24 hours a day, three shifts a day, and I'll pay overtime."

Zheng Hui picked up his briefcase and strode out.

"Dashan, Jianguo, drive back to the publishing house."

……

The Jinbei Haishi van sped through the night, with two canvas bags full of cash lying at its feet inside the carriage.

Chen Jianguo sat in the passenger seat with a large wrench at his waist, while Lin Dashan drove, glancing at the rearview mirror from time to time.

Zheng Hui sat in the back row, looking out the window at the neon lights of Guangzhou.

He was calculating something in his mind.

One million official copies sold—what does that mean in the Chinese music scene? That's platinum record, a record for a superstar.

(Some say that only data from channels like Xinhua Bookstore chain audio-visual stores should be considered, but I'm calculating based on production contract contracts.)

But this is only the genuine version. According to the current market rules, if the genuine version sells for one million, the pirated version can sell for at least five or six million, or even more.

The owners of the four major stalls who came to pick up goods just now actually run pirate factories or have close ties with them.

In the past, when they obtained genuine cassette tapes, their first action was not to sell the originals, but to make copies and pirate them.

Because genuine products have high purchase prices and low profit margins, while pirated products have low purchase prices and high profit margins.

But this time was different; Zheng Hui gave them a wholesale price of three yuan.

Making a single counterfeit box, including the outer casing, magnetic strip, and printing, would cost around one yuan if it were a small batch. Add to that the costs of labor, transportation, and bribing officials, and the cost would approach one yuan and fifty cents.

How much should I sell it for? Three yuan? I'll make a profit of one yuan and fifty cents.

But Zheng Hui's genuine product cost them three yuan. They sold it to the next buyer for four yuan, making a profit of one yuan.

Although I earned 50 cents less, it was safer.

No need to worry about the Industry and Commerce Bureau coming to investigate, no need to worry about the Cultural Inspection Team sealing off the door, no need to secretly ship goods in the middle of the night.

Moreover, genuine products are of high quality, have no return policy, and have a good reputation.

For a large wholesaler like Fatty Liu, it's not worth risking jail time and having to organize production himself for a mere 50 cents difference.

Since legitimate products can be offered at this price, they will become the most steadfast defenders of legitimate products.

Because the goods they have were bought with real money, if cheaper pirated versions appear on the market, it's like robbing them of their money.

They will use their channels to squeeze out the living space of small pirates.

Normally, the pirates get the meat, while the originals get the soup.

Official products are priced high to attract die-hard fans. Pirated products are priced low to attract the general public.

But Zheng Hui's move was to undermine the legitimate product by driving down the price to rock bottom, allowing him to reap the benefits while leaving pirates with only scraps.

Those small cities, towns, and rural areas, where legitimate channels don't reach.

Those local audio-visual stores either couldn't get Zheng Hui's products, or they found it too troublesome to source them.

Small-time pirates will fill this gap.

They would use cheap, poorly printed tapes, put Zheng Hui's name on them, and sell them for two yuan or one yuan and fifty cents.

Who are the buyers? They are those who really can't afford eight yuan, or those who don't care about sound quality at all, as long as they can hear a sound.

Zheng Hui couldn't have gotten a piece of this market anyway, so he'll let the pirates have it; it'll be a form of advertising for him.

In cities, in major consumer markets, when the genuine product sells for only eight yuan, and boasts exquisite packaging, perfect sound quality, and even comes with a beautiful lyric booklet...

Students with even a little money in their pockets wouldn't buy those cheap, low-quality products that cost only two or three yuan, get worn out after two listens, and have lyrics printed haphazardly.

That's embarrassing, that's shameful. Taking out a genuine copy of "Stubborn" is trendy.

Taking out a box of pirated goods is just plain rude.

This is consumer psychology.