Chapter 107: A Market Opens Up

It was mid-morning. After parting ways with Old Yao, Wang Qiang had just returned to the game room when he was called over by Old Zhu, who had been left in charge of the shop by Zhu Xiaofeng. The two chatted as they headed downstairs and reached the roadside.

It was the peak of the morning commute; the streets were filled with the ringing of bicycle bells and the blaring horns of motorcycles and cars.

Old Zhu, a cigarette dangling from his lips, spoke first: "The sales channel, there's a lead."

At these words, Wang Qiang’s spirits lifted. Having tasted success with electronic products, he was well aware of the profit margins involved. He valued this highly and had been eager to secure a stable distribution network. Now, Old Zhu had brought good news.

"Tell me about it. What kind of lead?" Wang Qiang asked.

"You know Qiu Jiang Road?" Old Zhu lit his cigarette and took a deep drag.

Wang Qiang nodded. "I do. It's the largest market area for second-hand electronics and appliances in Shanghai."

Qiu Jiang Road was the hub for the second-hand electronics market in Shanghai’s Zhabei District. It had flourished in the seventies and eighties, though its popularity had gradually declined due to technological advancements, rising standards of living, urban development, housing renovations, and the expansion of the rail network.

However, the primary cause was economic change. Citizens were no longer satisfied with cheap, second-hand goods and increasingly favored new products. Qiu Jiang Road was currently caught between two worlds: some merchants were thriving by importing electronics from Zhejiang, Fujian, and abroad, while others struggled to survive by clinging to the second-hand trade.

These imported goods—which included smuggled items—were prized for being cheap, though they typically lacked warranties and quality guarantees.

Old Zhu flicked his ash. "Well, I pulled some strings through a friend to contact a few bosses on Qiu Jiang Road who specialize in audio-visual equipment. They run quite large operations."

Wang Qiang listened quietly, waiting for the rest.

"Little Wang," Old Zhu finally said, getting to the point, "they want to meet us. Just be prepared; the chances of closing a deal aren't high."

Wang Qiang paused. "Why do you say that?"

Old Zhu explained what he had learned. "I spoke with my friend. Those bosses get much of their equipment from Zhejiang. I hear their prices are already incredibly low. I'm not sure by how much, but... well, we probably won't have much of an edge. Let's go take a look; if it doesn't work out, I'll find other ways."

Wang Qiang replied immediately, "Sure, I understand. Whether we can make a deal or not, since there's a lead, we have to check it out."

...

The two set off on a motorcycle. As they rode, Wang Qiang chatted with Old Zhu. In truth, Wang Qiang didn't feel much pressure. He hadn't expected Old Zhu to find a lead so quickly anyway. He was simply going with a sliver of hope. Even if the others sourced their goods from Zhejiang at low prices, who was to say his own sourcing costs wouldn't be even lower? It wasn't impossible. He remained expectant; if their costs were truly rock-bottom and no deal could be made, he would have no regrets—he would simply find another path.

What is gained, is luck. What is lost, is fate.

Wang Qiang kept a balanced mindset. Of course, he still hoped to reach an agreement, but he was prepared to test the waters.

The motorcycle soon arrived at Qiu Jiang Road. Passing through a quiet alley, the view suddenly opened up to the shimmering water of the Suzhou Creek. Wooden piers lined the riverbanks, a gentle breeze rippled the water, the sun reflected off the buildings, and rows of willow trees swayed their branches.

Before long, the motorcycle slowed down. The road ahead was jammed with people—women peddling wares while holding children and haggling with customers, and tiny ten-square-meter shops packed to the brim. It was as if the area was displaying the final embers of its former glory.

They arrived at a building marked "Qiu Jiang Electronic Digital Mall." Old Zhu parked the bike in the shed. They walked through the main entrance and headed to the second floor. Near the easternmost counter, seven or eight people were gathered, talking.

"Old Zhu!" a middle-aged man spotted them from afar and waved.

"Old Xiao," Old Zhu greeted back.

Wang Qiang followed him over and saw the goods on the counter: a chaotic mix of Walkmans, digital watches, tape recorders, subwoofers, and even high-end portable CD players.

They were introduced to the group. Old Xiao was Old Zhu's friend, responsible for setting up the meeting. However, the one who clearly held the authority was a stout, thick-necked man with a fleshy face named Cheng Weihong. Wang Qiang had heard about him from Old Zhu; Cheng ran a large business in the area, and several other audio-visual equipment merchants followed his lead—likely because they pooled their orders through his sourcing channels. To close a deal, it all depended on whether Cheng gave the nod.

In this seller's market, whoever had the goods was king.

"Little Wang, do you mind if I ask how old you are?" Cheng Weihong asked, leaning his arms on the counter.

"I don't mind. I'm seventeen this year," Wang Qiang said frankly.

Hearing his age, several of the bosses whispered among themselves, seemingly surprised that someone so young had a sourcing channel.

Cheng Weihong watched Wang Qiang impassively. He had heard a little about Wang and Old Zhu from Old Xiao. While he knew Xiao to be a man of measure who wouldn't make frivolous introductions, Cheng was still wary. Was Wang really that young and capable of getting cheap goods? Was he a fraud? That was one concern. The other was: even if the kid could get cheap goods, could they be cheaper than what he got from Zhejiang?

These were standard merchant concerns—the necessary vigilance of any Qiu Jiang Road trader, as scams were common. Safety first. And beyond safety, they only cared about profit margins.

The other bosses felt much the same. Even though Old Xiao had hyped up Wang and Old Zhu, they were skeptical of their supply capacity. After all, the goods they got through Cheng were already quite cheap—perhaps not the absolute lowest on Qiu Jiang Road, but certainly above average. They had built deep trust with Cheng over years of profit. Wang and Old Zhu were strangers, so caution was natural. They were here mostly to see if there was anything to be gained, but they weren't overly invested.

"Little Wang," Old Zhu interjected, "Old Brother, the goods we get are extremely cheap. For instance..."

Cheng Weihong cut him off without a trace of annoyance. "We order in large volumes. Can you supply that?"

Wang Qiang saw Old Zhu look at him, so he nodded.

Old Zhu said confidently, "No problem. How much do you need?"

Cheng Weihong was amused. "Brother Zhu, I don't mean to doubt you, but you agreed without even asking what we need most. Is that really appropriate? Let's put it this way: don't look at my counter and think it's small. Many people come to me for wholesale. For example, I wholesale over a thousand portable cassette players a month. When I source from Zhejiang, I pay only when the goods arrive, and the cost for a thousand units is tens of thousands of yuan. That's not even counting the thousands of units my brothers here move. Do you have that kind of supply capacity?"

The man was speaking the truth. Without the capital, one simply didn't have the capacity to be a supplier.

Old Zhu was at a loss for words.

Wang Qiang, who had been silent, finally spoke up. "I can manage two thousand portable cassette players a month." He decided to boast first; he didn't believe they would need two thousand all at once. In the fast-moving world of electronics, who would be foolish enough to sit on that much stagnant inventory?

"Are you really capable of that?" Cheng Weihong looked at him, surprised, then chuckled. "Whether you can or not is a discussion for later. First, I need to know your prices." He looked at Wang and Old Zhu solemnly. "Gentlemen, business is business. Don't take it personally if I say something you don't like."

Supply prices?

Wang Qiang smiled. He knew he couldn't show his hand first; he had to let them speak.

"How about this," Cheng Weihong said, playing a trick. "I'll tell you my costs first, then you tell me yours. If yours are truly cheaper, we can talk details." He had already decided to quote prices lower than what he actually paid.

Wang Qiang said, "Please, go ahead."

Cheng Weihong looked around and lowered his voice. "I'll tell you."

He picked up various items and introduced them: "Cassette player cost: forty-five. Digital watch: fifteen. Full-function Walkman: two hundred."

A customer arrived, and Cheng paused to handle the business. Wang Qiang wasn't in a hurry and chatted with the others.

Once the customer left after buying a Walkman, Cheng continued. Wang Qiang had noticed the retail price of that Walkman was four hundred and eighty. He had a rough idea now; it was indeed much cheaper than standard department stores, but still relatively expensive. This meant their real cost was likely higher than what Cheng was claiming; otherwise, the retail price wouldn't be so high.

"For instance, this Sony-clone portable CD player—I get it for about five hundred and thirty."

"And the radios..."

"The subwoofers..."

Cheng Weihong listed the costs for everything on his counter. The other bosses knew Old Cheng was quoting low, but they were all in the same boat and backed him up.

"Yes, those are very cheap," a middle-aged woman said.

A young man added, "In the Qiu Jiang Road area, there are very few people who can get lower prices than us."

Old Zhu, however, began to cheer up. He didn't know much about electronics, but he recalled Wang Qiang mentioning a price for cassette players that was far lower than what Cheng had just quoted.

Cheng Weihong said calmly, "Little Wang, those are all my costs. When Old Xiao introduced you, he said your supply prices were even lower. Care to tell me?"

The other bosses stayed silent, but they had a rough idea. Cheng’s quotes were at least ten percent lower than his actual costs, essentially hitting the lowest possible wholesale price in the Qiu Jiang Road area. Any lower? That seemed impossible.

Old Xiao knew the situation. The other bosses knew the situation.

The two people standing before them—would their quotes really be lower than Cheng's?