Chapter 55: Spare the Ambitious Rat

After much contemplation, Wei Dong realized there was truly no one he could consult at this moment except for that reporter, Yu. He had already agreed, after all, that once the camera went on sale, he could contact this journalist, and perhaps get some advertising out of it.

So, from the city post office in Northern Ji, he dialed a long-distance call to the Sunshine Daily’s bureau in Shu Chuan Province.

A crowd was gathered outside as well.

As expected, Yu Songhai had instructed his team to pay close attention to this crucial source of information, and it didn’t take long for them to find him at the bureau. “Ha ha, after the New Year, I asked Comrade Xiao Dong about you—he said you’d thrown yourself into work with great enthusiasm. How are things going now?”

Wei Dong considered for a moment before replying, “Let’s put it this way: that AX camera, selling for less than thirty yuan, has gone wild on the market. In just about half a month, over five thousand units have sold, and we’re striving for monthly sales to surpass ten thousand.”

Yu Songhai was undoubtedly taking notes. “Excellent, excellent! Has the optical instrument factory, now converted from military to civilian production, seen improvements?”

Wei Dong described the situation, “The entire factory is working at full capacity, everyone working overtime. They originally told me their daily output was about two hundred units, but now they’ve reached five hundred. If sales expand further, we’ll probably need to bring in nearby military factories to bolster the production line. I hope to help them hit annual sales of a hundred thousand units!”

He felt he was already being bold in making such declarations.

This path was inspired by the way the point-and-shoot camera once took the whole country by storm; it was a wise move to pursue a widely accessible, simple camera. Yet, even in his wildest dreams, he hadn’t imagined that in the late ’80s and early ’90s, point-and-shoot cameras would set annual sales records of half a million units—and that was just for a single major brand. The market actually boasted many similar models.

Still, his model of focusing on a single sales channel, aiming for a hundred thousand units, was a peak even later point-and-shoot cameras never managed to reach. It was reminiscent of today’s super internet influencers driving massive sales.

In any case, Yu Songhai was elated. “Oh, oh! From what I’ve heard, even the Xiangjiang brand camera tops out at thirty thousand units a year. Can this side really achieve such high output?”

Wei Dong didn’t hide anything. “We mainly simplified a lot of parts and complex features—the core idea is that anyone can pick up the camera and take photos without training. According to economic theory, widespread camera use will drive film production and sales, and spur rapid development in film processing and printing. The economy comes alive, and the entire industry scales up.”

This was a phrase often heard from the tax bureau, and in the internet age, it would become a cliché. But right now, it was a novel concept. Yu Songhai, quick to summarize, said, “Well said! A small camera can drive the development of a vast industry. If society’s economy is powered by countless such products, enriching all aspects of life, our industrial development, the transformation from military to civilian production, and our entire social fabric will be markedly improved. Excellent!”

Wei Dong was not shy about sharing more information. “At present, film is still expensive. Imported color rolls can cost twenty to thirty yuan, while domestic black-and-white rolls can be as low as five. With processing fees, a color photo costs nearly two yuan, a black-and-white one just twenty-four cents. The most critical issue now is developing domestic color film. I’m currently in Northern Ji, preparing to visit the Kai Xuan Photosensitive Materials Factory in Ji City to see if we can reach some sales agreements.”

In the 1980s, the prevailing belief—even among the worldly—was that foreign goods were inherently superior. Imported products were synonymous with quality. Only a handful of hard-headed researchers and visionary leaders insisted on developing domestic products through self-reliance. So for Wei Dong to say, offhand, that he intended to use domestic goods to resist the market domination of imports was shocking even to a professional journalist.

Yu Songhai had to pause, savoring the sentiment, and then reflected seriously, “You’re absolutely right. This takes the conversion from military to civilian production to a higher level. We journalists also have this mistaken notion—that imported equipment and materials are the best. We need to reflect and correct that. Only by genuinely developing and promoting domestic products can we truly stand tall on the world stage.”

That was the tone of the era.

Wei Dong refrained from making grandiose declarations and stuck to practicality. “Of course, there are many real-world challenges. For example, when I tried to bundle imported film with our cameras, the suppliers looked down on us. Domestic film, mostly state-owned and entrenched in the planned economy, shows little enthusiasm. That’s why I’m going to the Kai Xuan Film Factory in Ji City. Would you be able to accompany me? Otherwise, they might not even bother to meet me.”

Yu Songhai considered seriously, “That’s not a problem. If I can’t go personally, I’ll get the main office in Pingjing or the local bureau in Northern Ji to coordinate with you. It’s our duty as a news organization. And I’ll head straight to the Xishan Optical Instrument Factory for an on-site investigation.”

He was experienced. After all, if Wei Dong’s claims were exaggerated and the story was published, it could ruin his career. On-site verification was essential.

Wei Dong’s sudden “ah” made Yu Songhai a bit wary. “What, I can’t visit?”

Wei Dong quickly clarified, “No, no, you’re welcome to visit. But I hope you’ll understand a detail. I’m a businessman. I pay in full for my inventory, sell at my own risk, and have invested heavily in branding, packaging, and manuals. If you publicize the Xishan factory and more people come to buy from them, my investment becomes a wedding dress for others. The factory might not maintain its exclusive supply relationship with me, and I might not be able to work with you in the future.”

Yu Songhai understood immediately. “Don’t worry—I’ll focus the story on you. Didn’t we agree to create an exemplary model? You’re helping the optical factory transition to civilian sales; I won’t mention the specific factory. If people call the newspaper inquiring about the manufacturer, I’ll just give them your contact information.”

Wei Dong was still wary. “Last time you said you wouldn’t reveal my details, but then you ran a full spread: news report, editorial, letters from readers, the whole package. I ended up having to meet with city leaders.”

Yu Songhai, with his professional instincts, asked, “What did they say? How did the conversation go?”

Wei Dong described it briefly, which left the reporter satisfied. “That’s great. The greatest significance of commercial distribution isn’t simply moving goods from factory to consumer, but that the process creates social division of labor and enriches society’s operations as a whole…”

Wei Dong couldn’t help but interject, “And thus creates a harmonious new society.”

The reporter savored this, “Exactly! In this tumultuous era of reform and opening up, we must emphasize harmony, so more people can participate in the transformation gently, allowing change to unfold like a gentle rain.”

The prevailing attitude of the time was bold, forceful action—sweeping reforms, daring struggle, relentless drive.

This touch of humanistic concern was rare. Yu Songhai was bold and even offered Wei Dong some tips. “The format of the publication isn’t my decision, but mentioning you is certainly my request. In the end, the city treated you with courtesy, didn’t it help your work?”

Wei Dong laughed. “Help? Not at all. I used to make some profit from sand, citrus, and agricultural-industrial business in Shangzhou, but now I’m forced to hand all my money over to disadvantaged groups.”

Yu Songhai immediately asked about these disadvantaged groups and, after understanding, praised him. “You have a knack for using certain terms. This is an excellent way to put it—caring for vulnerable groups is the duty of a leading role model. It’s exactly what you should be doing.”

Wei Dong teased that Yu Songhai had a response for everything.

Yu Songhai emphasized that this was the responsibility of journalistic oversight, and that Wei Dong should lead by example.

Wei Dong silently made a face: leading sheep get locked up, and he hadn’t even been released yet.

In any case, after making sure the reporter’s needs were met, Wei Dong turned to his own affairs. “I have to make a living, so it’s not just about the film business. I’m also following up on a previous agreement made by You Qili and the others—to transport surplus beef and mutton fat from the north to chemical plants in the southwest. Since the end of planned economy allocations, these factories have lost their raw material supply and can’t handle transportation or sourcing themselves. Do you have any suggestions?”

He added, “I’m not keen on this business, but I’ve already acquired quite a bit here, and the factories there are waiting. Old You is still detained, so I’m trying to help restore his business reputation and cover some losses, but now they won’t let us leave with the goods.”

In those days, major reporters were true jacks-of-all-trades, and many future business leaders started as journalists traveling the country in the 1980s and ’90s.

Yu Songhai thought for a moment. “I’ve interviewed those chemical factories in Shu Chuan you mentioned. My suggestion: bring back some samples and go to Guozhou Chemical Plant—I have friends there. If the quality is good, let them handle the transactions themselves, and you can hand over the supply line to them.”

This wasn’t typical reselling—it meant connecting both sides directly, which reduced profits but also hassle, and Wei Dong was only too happy to oblige.

They agreed to meet in Ji City within three days, visit the film factory with the local reporter, and then take the oil samples to Guozhou.

This prefectural city in Shu Chuan Province sat conveniently between the Xishan factory and Shu capital. Yu Songhai would visit the Xishan factory, then wait at the chemical plant to meet and discuss further.

And even now, Yu Songhai still hadn’t asked how Wei Dong had managed to sell several thousand cameras.

That was the real key.