Ways to Make Big Money in the Coming Years

When it comes to stocks, there was money to be made investing in these years.

Fang Bai remembered that the Old Eight Stocks would start trading this December, but having money didn't guarantee you could buy them—most holders were reluctant to sell, creating a market in name only.

Also, before May 1992, the exchange used a 0.5% and 1% daily price limit, so even if stocks rose, they didn't rise much. Making money that way wasn't easy.

It wasn't until January 1992 that Shanghai first issued "Stock Subscription Certificates," priced at 30 Yuan each, with unlimited issuance. Word was sales were poor, so the sale period was extended. The plan was to sell five million copies, but in the end, only a little over two million were sold.

But after four rounds of lottery draws, the success rate exceeded three-quarters. Winning certificates could be used to buy original shares at face value, and at their peak, each winning certificate could earn 10,000 Yuan.

Fang Bai remembered this mainly because a lot of people from Wen City had gotten in on it and made big money. For example, Chen Xinyi, a private enterprise boss from Jiangnan Province, bought ten thousand certificates and dug up tens of millions of Yuan. His story spread through Wen City.

Still, Fang Bai didn't recall the exact timing or details.

If he had spare cash, he could pick up some stocks, but right now he didn't. It was better to use it for operations, which would probably yield more than stock investments.

All in all, in the next two years, the only playable move was the '92 subscription certificates, and that was over a year away.

Of course, if Fang Bai, as an outside factor, bought in large quantities, he might lower the success rate, but it could also mean no extension of the sale period—anything was possible. He was just an uncertain variable and wouldn't affect the certificates' value.

In the next year or two, he needed to gather as much wealth as possible to prepare for buying up the certificates. That was the best chance for a quick fortune in the coming years.

Beyond that, he had no clue about domestic or international stock trends in the years ahead.

As for the Internet era, that was still far off and not something Fang Bai needed to focus on for the next few years.

Fang Bai didn't know much about future events, so he was bound to miss some investment opportunities.

And even if he knew about some investments, he couldn't necessarily get in on them.

Take Alibaba, QQ, JD.com, and other Internet companies. If he started them himself, maybe they'd develop better, or maybe they'd turn out terribly, not as good as in his past life. Fang Bai didn't think being reborn automatically made him better than Ma Huateng, Jack Ma, and Richard Liu.

To be fair, maybe he'd do better as an investor than as a founder.

Of course, that assumed others were willing to accept his investment. Having money but no resources didn't mean they'd be eager to take it.

Either way, Fang Bai was sure that using his Golden Finger to develop in the field he was good at would work out well.

In reality, at a high level—say, a hundred billion versus two hundred billion in wealth—money wasn't that important to him. What mattered was what ideals he wanted to realize, or what changes he could bring to the country that hadn't happened in his past life.

Fang Bai hoped to use his Golden Finger to develop high-tech, break foreign technology monopolies, and walk the path of a technology-powered nation.

That was his biggest dream.

He didn't know if his Golden Finger could help him get that far, but he had to try. Even if it didn't work, it didn't matter.

Thinking this, Fang Bai's thoughts became clearer.

In the early stage, make as much money as possible. Only with money could dreams be supported.

For now, he wouldn't overthink it. Having a general direction was enough.

He checked the time—it was only ten in the morning. He planned to go check out his father-in-law's workshop.

Fang Bai dressed himself up a bit, carrying a black leather briefcase he'd bought from a street stall. It made him look like a successful man and a bit more mature.

He took a rickshaw to an alley lined with a row of tiled houses.

The interior walls of these tiled houses had all been knocked through, covering about a hundred square meters. The front door was wide open. A Jialing motorcycle was parked outside, two machine tools sat inside, and some industrial valve bodies were scattered on the cement floor.

This was his father-in-law Qin Donghai's mechanical processing workshop: Jiayu Processing Plant.

The name came from the "Jia" in his mother-in-law Chen Jiahui's name and the "Yu" in Qin Shuyu's. It showed that his father-in-law really cared for his family, even if he was stubborn about some things.

In his past life, Fang Bai had gone into business with his father-in-law. They had disagreements on business direction. Fang Bai wanted to build his own brand products, while his father-in-law was more conservative, feeling that without much technical skill, making products was very hard and too risky. After failing once, he didn't dare try again, yet he still longed for his own brand products—a conflicted mindset.

Fang Bai looked at the workshop before him, his thoughts swirling, recalling so many past events.

As far as Fang Bai knew, his father-in-law had bought this row of tiled houses, but the family didn't live here—they lived in the city.

Right now, two workers were busy operating the machines inside.

One of them had a square face, a crew cut, slightly dark skin, neither fat nor thin, and stood about 1.7 meters tall. That was Qin Donghai.

Fang Bai stood at the doorway, and the people inside noticed him but didn't pay much attention.

When he walked into the workshop, Qin Donghai stopped what he was doing, wiped his hands, and before he could speak, Fang Bai smiled and said, "Boss, may your business thrive."

Fang Bai handed him a cigarette, and Qin Donghai took a look at Fang Bai's outfit. He felt this young man was unusual—he looked to be in his early twenties, but his gestures carried the seasoned air of a social veteran.

Young people starting out early in society was common around here; some even became bosses themselves. So Fang Bai's youth didn't raise much suspicion in Qin Donghai.

Qin Donghai wiped his hands with a rag, took the cigarette, and chuckled, "It's okay, just not making much money. What's your surname, boss?"

The order volume was decent, but most orders passed through multiple middlemen, so the profit margin was slim. Some payments were even impossible to recover.

He'd tried finding his own orders, but it wasn't easy, so most of the work came from walk-in orders.

Large factories required factory inspections before outsourcing—they wanted to see if you had the processing capability. You couldn't just talk your way into a deal unless you had solid connections.

Outsourcing was tough. When orders were big, factories added their own equipment and workers. When orders were small, they didn't outsource at all. The work they gave out was always urgent, or something they couldn't do themselves, with deadlines that felt like life or death. The pressure was high, the demands endless, and after one job, there was no next one.

Some products had material costs of just a few dozen Yuan, processing fees of only a dozen or so, but sold for hundreds. It was enough to make you jealous.

Only with your own products did you have a say, but that required projects and technology. He'd failed before and knew his limits—he wasn't cut out for it.

"No need for 'mister.' My name is Fang Bai."

Fang Bai offered the cigarette but didn't smoke himself. He casually glanced at the workpieces on the floor and immediately knew what his father-in-law was currently outsourcing.

The large factory's valve body is cast with its own company logo, and insiders can tell which manufacturer it's from.

"Fangzheng's 2-inch Gate Valve and Jiangnan's 4-inch Globe Valve are both pretty good."

Qin Donghai heard Fang Bai identify the manufacturers at a glance, realizing he was in the same trade, and asked curiously, "Boss Fang, are you also in the subcontracting business?"

Fang Bai shook his head with a smile. "No, I'm a sales rep looking for a machining factory to process valves."

"Great, I can handle both gate and globe valves. Quality's no issue. As long as payments are on time, I can deliver on schedule." Qin Donghai grew more enthusiastic, his face beaming.

But he also had some concerns. Usually, sales reps drove prices down too hard—as long as quality was passable, they'd go with whoever was cheapest, with no regard for personal connections.

Fang Bai started chatting with his father-in-law. "I see your subcontracting volume isn't high, but the work's from big factories. Probably passed through a few hands."

"Ah, yeah. Someone else couldn't finish the job, so they passed it to me. I only get the scraps." Qin Donghai gave a bitter smile.

Fang Bai nodded. He already had a clear idea of his father-in-law's subcontracting rates, so there was no need for a handshake to probe.

In reality, machining subcontracting rates were fairly transparent. For example, drilling a hole of a certain size—considering the material, precision requirements, plate thickness, workpiece weight, ease of clamping, what drill press to use, and how many pieces could be processed per hour—you could estimate the cost.

Fang Bai was confident he could land orders mainly because he had an information advantage. He had a good grasp of the larger valve factories in Wen City.

In some bigger valve factories, even the workshop supervisor or manager could decide where to subcontract, and upper management didn't bother with such details as long as results were delivered.

In smaller companies, it was usually upper management or the boss who handled outsourced processing; going to the workshop leadership was useless.

To find orders, you had to approach the right person, or it was all wasted effort.

Fang Bai wanted his father-in-law to handle the subcontracting for a few reasons: to help him out, to make money himself, and to strengthen their bond. It was a win-win-win situation, so why not?

Once he earned his father-in-law's trust, he could then help him break out of the grueling subcontracting cycle.

After chatting for a few minutes, Fang Bai finally mentioned that he might bring a client to inspect the factory, and said he'd introduce himself as a partner.

His father-in-law understood. Sales reps without their own factories often told clients, "I'm familiar with this factory and I'm also a partner."

They didn't discuss subcontracting rates yet; that could wait until there was a solid lead.

With his father-in-law on board, Fang Bai set out to find orders.