"Do you know of any other factories nearby that can manufacture wig-making equipment?" Song Tianyao asked, taking Marlboro cigarette from his pocket and offering one to the other person.
Galen Nelson took the cigarette, lit it, took a puff, and then shook his head. "Most of the machinery companies in Cleveland now produce large lathes for military factories, car groups, and so on. Orders are piling up for years. If you want a few sets of toy-like wig equipment, I think you could consider picking them up after your son goes to college, after you've paid the deposit. Why don't you take a look around Detroit? A lot of machinery factories have sprung up there in recent years. Where are you from? Japan? China?"
"China, Hong Kong." Song Tianyao smiled somewhat dejectedly, lit a cigarette, and said, "Okay, Detroit."
Someone came over to chat, and Galen Nelson happened to stop mowing the lawn for a break. "Are there also many people in Asia who like to wear those effeminate wigs?"
"I plan to sell them in the United States; young United States love wigs," Song Tianyao said to Galen Nelson.
Galen Nelson paused, rubbed his fingers around his temples a few times, and said uncertainly, "Kid, are you out of your mind? This stuff is made in United States, how could anyone buy a wig you made in Asia? With increased shipping and import costs, wigs made in Asia will only sell for more than those made locally."
"Labor is very cheap there. The monthly salary of one worker in the United States can hire fifty people or even more in Hong Kong. So in terms of labor, Hong Kong can save a lot of expenses compared to the United States. Other aspects will only be more economical. Goodbye, Mr. Nelson, I'm going to Detroit for a visit." Song Tianyao was not in the mood to chat with the old man and turned to take a taxi away.
Galen Nelson, puffing on his cigarette, thought for a moment before speaking, "Hey kid, if you can afford a lot of workers, maybe my warehouse has what you need. They might not be as convenient as the machines we're producing now, but as long as you have enough workers, I don't think it'll be a problem."
Galen Nelson drove his pickup truck with Song Tianyao to a warehouse at the port. He took out his keys and pushed open the door of the warehouse, which was over a thousand square meters in size. "This is my private warehouse, used to store various machines that were produced but whose customers were unable to pay the final payment for various reasons, resulting in a backlog of unsold equipment."
Song Tianyao followed the other man in. The warehouse was filled with machinery covered by tarpaulins. Galen Nelson walked ahead, familiar with the place. "I come here every month to take care of things. Machines are like pet dogs; if they aren't cared for for too long, they'll get sick. But it's easier than taking care of a pet dog. You only need to come monthly to check if they're rusty or if the gears are low on oil. You don't need to feed them dog food every day. We're here."
Galen Nelson walked to a corner of the warehouse, lifted several tarpaulins, and pointed to the exposed machines, saying to Song Tianyao, "Hair extension machine, high-knitting machine, shaping aluminum tubular ruler, shaping oven, and cylindrical electric sewing machine—these five machines make up one set, four sets in total. A customer in Oregon ordered them seven years ago. My old buddies and I worked on them for seven months according to his specifications, and he went bankrupt. After that, people preferred to buy expensive new machines rather than these cheap ones because labor was too expensive. So they've been sitting here ever since. This set of equipment requires twenty workers..."
"How much?" Song Tianyao interrupted Galen Nelson's rambling introduction somewhat rudely, asking with a hint of excitement.
Galen Nelson looked at Song Tianyao with a smug expression and laughed, "Looks like you really like them? Machines should be running, not sitting in a warehouse getting moldy. Back then, these custom-made machines cost four thousand US dollars per set. That unfortunate bankrupt Oregon businessman paid half the deposit. You just need to pay the rest, and all four sets of equipment and some replacement parts are yours. That's right, kid, you heard me correctly, these four sets only cost eight thousand US dollars, just a little more expensive than four cars."
Eight thousand US dollars, which is nearly two hundred and forty thousand Hong Kong dollars, but Song Tianyao didn't even blink. "I'll take it. I can go to Citibank right now to withdraw the money and complete the transaction with you, Mr. Nelson."
When Song Tianyao learned from Marcus that a set of equipment cost US dollars 70,000, which is more than Hong Kong dollars 2 million, it did not deter him. Song Tianyao even considered borrowing money from Second Young Master Chu. These machines, which are considered outdated by United States, are more suitable for Hong Kong's needs than the latest production line equipment. Hong Kong is now the opposite of the United States, where machines are expensive but labor is very cheap. Of course, he could not miss this opportunity.
Before coming to the United States, Song Tianyao had sold off the properties of his uncles and cousins Fuyixing and converted them into cash. However, those properties were far less profitable than the gambling, prostitution, and drug businesses run by Tan Changshan and others. Even after selling them all, he only raised Hong Kong dollars 530,000. Apart from leaving HK$20,000 for Lin Yujing, Song Tianyao converted the rest of the money into US dollars and deposited it in Citibank's Hong Kong branch before coming to the United States, totaling US dollars 18,000.
After quickly completing the transaction with Galen Nelson and paying the freight company, Song Tianyao watched as the four sets of equipment, which had been gathering dust for seven years, were loaded onto a large cargo ship at the port by the transport workers. Three months later, they would cross the ocean and arrive in Hong Kong.
"Mr. Galen, have you ever thought about opening your own small machine factory?" After the equipment was loaded onto the ship, Song Tianyao calmed down from his initial excitement and asked Galen Nelson, who was watching the machines go as if he were seeing off a daughter on her wedding day.
Galen Nelson shook his arm and said in a loud voice, "Don't joke around. My son Francis, that bastard, has no interest in machines. He sold Fisher Company and took the money to New York. I don't have the capital to buy new equipment and compete with those big companies."
"I'll be back soon, Mr. Galen. If I've made some money by then, you might consider taking out a bank loan to continue producing these outdated machines. I can then sell them to Asia for you. These machines will be more sought after than the latest assembly line machines," Song Tianyao said to Galen Nelson.