Chapter 206 The Revolution Has Not Yet Succeeded (Bug Fix): Comrades Still Need to Work Hard

Wang Xiaoke refused to accept this argument: "Can fleece be the same as a cotton trench coat? Does producing a cotton trench coat in China require importing a complete set of equipment from the United States or Japan, building a factory according to Japanese standards, and training workers?"

“A coat like this would cost at least 10,000 yen in Japan, which is equivalent to $111. The price I’m asking for is less than a third of that. Are you asking me to overcharge? Have some conscience! I would never pay this price for anyone else.”

"I'm worried that relying solely on the resources of our commercial street will make it difficult to distribute the goods in a short period of time."

"Otherwise, why can't I just sell them myself?"

"Am I worried that the fleece won't sell and I'll earn less money?"

"I can guarantee right now that starting tomorrow, the fleece in our shopping street will sell like hotcakes."

The third sister stepped in again to smooth things over: "Of course, of course, everyone knows what's going on. You think $35 is too expensive? My goodness, you can't be too greedy. We all know what kind of person Mr. Wang is."

Wang Xiao looked rather aggrieved: "It's because of the ruble incident last time. I'm always thinking of finding another opportunity for everyone to make more money. Otherwise, why would I bother? Can't I just get approval to go abroad directly from within China? Do I not have flight routes or do I not have planes?"

Everyone fell silent after she said that.

Indeed, she has no shortage of sales channels.

Wang Xiao tapped his fingers lightly on the table: "In short, if you're willing to buy from me, come and place your order as soon as possible. The factory is working overtime right now, and production is very tight. If you're late, the orders will be booked until after the Lunar New Year, and it won't do you any good if you come to me then."

She stood up, as if to...

The third sister quickly stopped her: "Hey, hey, there are sesame seed cakes, fresh out of the oven, they smell so good."

Before Wang Xiao could speak, the restaurant door was pushed open, and a familiar face walked in: Gasparov.

He asked the shop owner, "Hey! Buddy, do you have borscht?"

Old Meng's Russian wife quickly chimed in, "Of course, we have the most authentic borscht in our shop."

Ivanov called out, "Hey! Buddy, want to try some mutton soup? Their mutton soup is really good. In this awful weather, mutton soup is much more comforting."

Gasparov stared at him in astonishment, as if he had seen a ghost: "What are you doing here?"

"Have some soup." Ivanov thought he had asked a silly question, and waved the flatbread in his hand to indicate, "It's especially good with this flatbread."

Before Gasparov could give any further response, the footsteps outside became more numerous and heavier, pattering against the rain.

Then, to everyone's surprise, a group of burly Black men escorted a familiar face into the restaurant.

Saori Yamada was the first to scream, then she covered her mouth tightly and bowed deeply in apology.

Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Oh God!

Who did she see? The person she had seen at the concert less than an hour earlier—Michael Jackson!

Is it true? Or is she hallucinating?

Wang Xiao also found it unbelievable.

Why is Michael here instead of going back to his hotel to rest after the concert?

Even if he gets hungry and wants a late-night snack, the Metropolitan Hotel has its own restaurant.

She waved and greeted him, then turned her questioning gaze to Gasparov.

The latter mumbled something in Russian: "Michael wants to try authentic borscht."

He actually wanted to take the Americans to a more famous Russian restaurant.

But when Michael saw this side through the car window, heaven knows what attracted him, but he wanted to try the borscht here.

So what could Gasparov, as the organizer, do? This big star hardly ever made any demands on him.

He just wanted a simple bowl of borscht, what reason did he have to object?

The restaurant owner also exclaimed in surprise. She finally realized she recognized the big star and stammered that she really liked him and hadn't gone to the concert that night because she couldn't close the restaurant. However, she had bought his album and had seen his concerts on TV.

Borscht, right? She would definitely make him the most delicious borscht in the world.

The restaurant had private rooms inside, and Michael and his group went to one of them.

The remaining dealers and their wives chimed in with suggestions for the owners: "Make more food; you can't just let them drink a bowl of borscht. Oh my, you didn't see it, he was singing and dancing, he's exhausted. He could eat a whole cow right now."

But the owners didn't know what the American singer liked to eat.

So, in addition to borscht, they served all of the restaurant's signature dishes.

Everyone agrees that it should be done.

Even if Michael can't finish it all by himself, surely the others will have to eat some too.

On such a cold, rainy night, it would be a real shame not to eat something hot.

It's strange, really. Everyone was talking so enthusiastically before, but as soon as Michael and his group arrived, everyone unconsciously lowered their voices, as if even breathing a little loudly would be inappropriate.

Wang Xiao ignored him and ordered another half bowl of soup, which he ate with the sesame seed cake.

Seriously, you can't always get crispy flatbread in Moscow.

Her third sister nudged her arm and whispered, "Um, can we take a picture together? Oh, I don't dare to ask."

A middleman next to her laughed at her: "You just want to take a picture? I thought you were going to kiss him."

He saw a newspaper he had brought from China, which had a news article about Aaron Kwok, one of the Four Heavenly Kings, who was forced to hug and kiss a young woman during a concert in mainland China.

When the reporter asked the girl how it felt, she honestly replied: "I got a mouthful of sweat from the kiss, and it was so salty."

Oh my! He still laughs when he thinks about it now.

The third sister spat at him: "Get lost! Why would I kiss him? I just wanted to take a picture."

“Sure,” Wang Xiao readily agreed. “We’ll ask them after they’ve finished eating.”

She had barely finished one sesame seed cake when the person inside came out – incredibly fast! The proprietress hadn't even finished preparing her signature dish yet.

Without thinking twice, Wang Xiao stepped forward and asked, "Hi Michael, can we take a picture with you? We're all your fans."

Although the meal was eaten quickly, Michael was clearly satisfied, and he was in a much better mood than when Wang Xiao last saw him.

He nodded, and the producer came over to help everyone line up so that everyone could be in the shot.

After the photos are taken, the producer promises that once they are developed, he will sign them for everyone, one for each person.

It has to be said that superstars really do have an aura about them; even Wang Xiao felt a little dizzy.

They watched the convoy of cars leave, and the third sister, as if in a dream, murmured to herself, "My God, American celebrities are so easy to talk to."

Others chimed in: "Exactly, Americans are more friendly than Hong Kongers. Oh, back when I was in China, there was this Hong Kong singer who was so arrogant. He wasn't really that famous, just a singer from Hong Kong, but he acted all high and mighty when he came to the mainland."

A person nearby scoffed, "They're just spoiled. What's so great about them? Just ignore them and they'll behave."

Some people joked with Old Meng: "Don't forget to put Michael's autographed photo on the wall. In the future, whoever comes, you can tell them, 'Look, even big stars say our restaurant is great.'"

Old Meng seemed to come to his senses then, and repeatedly emphasized: "He drank all of our borscht, not a drop was left. My goodness, such a big star actually came to our little restaurant to eat."

Everyone laughed and teased, "Hey, don't underestimate yourself. Our boss, Mr. Wang, is such a big boss, but he still comes to your house to eat sesame cakes."

Wang Xiao wiped his hands, smiled and said goodbye: "I'm leaving! Um, as always, if you want clothes, come and place your order as soon as possible."

As she spoke, she actually stood up, nodded to Lao Meng, and stepped out.

Ivanov, who had been a wallflower the whole time, simply gave everyone a polite bow before leaving.

As the large group of wholesalers watched them leave, they began to whisper among themselves, "Hey, how much profit do you think she made by giving us 35 dollars?"

Third Sister shook her head: "Who knows? But I estimate it won't make much money. I asked around at textile factories in Beijing, and there really aren't any factories making this. These artificial, high-performance ones are more expensive than genuine leather."

Someone in the crowd chimed in, "I also went to the American store in the department store, and this is indeed expensive. It's not $111, they sell it for $500."

This is incomparable.

In European and American import stores, a sand-washed women's trench coat costs $130, and a wool one costs $600. Even a pair of ordinary pure cotton socks costs $10; feet are more expensive than faces!

Now, the newspapers say that Moscow's prices have ranked fifth in the world!

After discussing it for a long time, although they were reluctant, they still believed that Wang Xiao was trying to increase sales volume.

I estimate she earns at most five dollars per item.

However, they certainly won't lose money. If they sell in large quantities and ship 10 million units, that's 50 million US dollars!

Ha! Don't be scared by 10 million items. In the Moscow market, as long as the goods suit your taste, it's a feast, and no amount of it can satisfy everyone.

Wow, he's a big boss after all. He can throw out tens of millions of US dollars to import equipment, build factories, and hire Japanese engineers. No one else would have the capital to make that kind of money.

The wholesalers started discussing again: "So, what price should we use?"

This is also a tacit understanding that has formed among everyone after spending a long time in Moscow.

To prevent everyone from bidding against each other and killing the market, for common goods, everyone should periodically check prices and agree on a rough estimate.

Otherwise, if you sell off your goods at rock-bottom prices today, others will start a price war with you tomorrow. Over time, the Russians will become shrewd and will specifically watch you Chinese fight, making you lose money while gaining publicity.

One person said, "I'm not greedy. I'd be perfectly happy with just an extra five or eight yuan."

In this way, selling 10,000 items can earn you 50,000 to 80,000 yuan, which is quite a lot.

Others nodded in agreement: "Yes, wholesale prices shouldn't exceed 45, and retail prices shouldn't exceed 50 either, otherwise people would rather buy down jackets."

After this discussion, everyone felt relieved and gratefully drank the rest of their mutton soup and ate the flatbread in their hands.

The third sister called out, "Old Meng, let's settle the bill. It's on me today."

Old Meng smiled and waved his hand: "No need, Mr. Wang's people have already been paid, more than they should have."

Third Sister shook her head with a smile: "This Mr. Wang, really—"

What is it really? Generous? Well, that's about right.

Anyway, she had nothing to say; Wang Xiao offered her $33. Don't underestimate that two-dollar difference; selling 10,000 items would be $20,000.

She made back all the losses she suffered from the previous devaluation and subsequent appreciation of the ruble in one go.

Wang Xiao and the others had already driven onto the main road.

Without a doubt, she was sitting with Ivanov.

Besides them, there were only the driver and bodyguards in the car.

So as soon as Ivanov got on the train, he excitedly asked, "Your Majesty, how many goods do you think we can ship this time?"

Wang Xiao looked out the window; the rain had gradually stopped. The Moscow night, washed by the rain, had a quiet yet lonely melancholy.

The long street stretched as far as the eye could see, and every now and then, drunkards would stagger in the dim light.

The nightclub not far away was bustling with music and dance, like another world altogether.

"Fifty million." She held out her hand, spread her fingers and waved them. "If we're lucky, I think we can ship fifty million worth of goods this winter."

Besides Russia, there are other CIS countries.

The Bucharest container market alone could easily handle 10 million pieces of clothing.

She has already given the fleece clothes to the "The Great Swordsman" production team, and when this episode airs in November, it will be free advertising.

Fleece, the poor man's mink, truly lives up to its name.

Ivanov clutched his chest and let out an exaggerated sigh, "God, are you finally going to look after us?"

Haha, do you know what 50 million items means?

Despite importing a complete set of equipment, despite renovating the factory and dormitories according to Japanese production standards, and despite spending a lot of money to hire senior Japanese technicians as customers, costs can be infinitely compressed when it comes to absolute volume.

To put it simply, they can make a $20 profit by selling a fleece coat for $35.

Yes, that's the exact number.

The cost of raw materials for chemical products can be drastically reduced, while the main cost of synthetic fabrics lies in labor costs. This is precisely the part that the Huaxia factory can currently control most easily.

The finished fabric was sent to a factory that Wang Xiao had requested be renovated according to Japanese standards. Because of the large order quantity, the processing fee was discounted.

In this way, the cost from fabric to clothing is further reduced.

Capitalists control profits by cutting costs.

A profit of $20 per piece, with 50 million worth of goods.

From this one deal alone, they can earn another billion dollars!

"Your Majesty!" Ivanov exclaimed excitedly, "The clothing business is indeed extremely profitable! Next year, next year we must continue our efforts!"

Wang Xiao poured cold water on his enthusiasm: "Next year might be different. The market reacts very quickly. We made money from fleece this year, and believe it or not, factories will be making fleece next year."

Ivanov pondered for a moment, then confidently replied, "Not so fast. I know the factories in China; the large ones are all state-owned enterprises. Developing new materials doesn't just mean importing a production line worth tens of millions of US dollars; it also requires upgrading and renovating the factory buildings, which involves a very high investment cost. They'll need to hold meetings and argue for at least a few months before making a decision, then conduct further investigations, and finally determine how to import the materials. Hmm, the year after next—I'm more inclined to say the year after next—our competitors will start to increase."

As for more flexible private enterprises and township enterprises, they are not within his consideration.

Because the size of these factories is insufficient to support technological upgrades and transformations of this scale.

Wang Xiao shook his head: "You missed one group: Taiwanese businessmen."

"Taiwan was a Japanese colony for half a century, so the relationship is difficult to assess. During Taiwan's economic boom, the introduction of Japanese investment played a significant role. Therefore, it's quite common for Japanese technology to be transferred to Taiwan. Taiwanese businesses, in turn, invest in mainland China, particularly in Fujian province. Fujian is a region with a relatively developed private economy on the mainland. You see, many of our shoes are now made in Fujian. There are quite a few Fujianese traders in Moscow, and once they realize that fleece is a lucrative business, capital is likely to flow in quickly."

Ivanov, who had been relaxed and at ease, couldn't help but frown upon hearing this.

He knew all too well that with sufficient funds, starting from scratch was an easy and simple matter.

In May of this year, he first learned about the concept of fleece.

In just four months, they have launched their $1 billion plan with fleece.

He let out a long sigh: "God, sometimes I really think that you Chinese are frighteningly quick-witted."

Wang Xiao laughed: "Not only Chinese people, can't the Japanese do it too? Their labor costs are high, but they can find contract manufacturers directly in China and Southeast Asian countries."

Ivanov clutched his head, groaning in pain: "God, where are we going to find another project like this that makes money?"

Making money can be addictive, especially this kind of aggressive way of making money.

Wang Xiao stretched lazily, his voice languid: "Who said we were going to change projects? We have what others don't, and we excel at what others do. Fleece is something we can definitely develop deeply. It's a fabric, and the same fabric can produce vastly different garments. We can work on the designs to make it more fashionable. We can also further optimize the fabric, for example, by solving its static electricity problem so it doesn't crackle in the dead of winter. We can also combine it with other fabrics to develop more varieties. My plan is to sell at least 50 million pieces next year."

Ivanov lowered his hand from his face, looking on with curiosity: "How do we get rid of static electricity?"

"Just put in a conductive wire to discharge the static electricity." Wang Xiao only knew the general concept; as for the specifics of how to do it, "Let the people from the research institute handle it; they have their own expertise."

The car drove all the way back to the villa.

The housekeeper sighed, "Oh God, sir and madam, you're finally back."

Can you believe it? Since returning to Moscow in July, they haven't gone home in order to deal with emergencies as soon as possible, and they've been sleeping on the commercial street every night.

Ivanov embraced the old lady, showering her with sweet words: "Oh, my dear lady, you are so radiant. I am so happy to see you."

Wang Xiao took off his hat and greeted Ito Sachiko and Yamada Saori: "Is it okay if we share a room tonight? It's your first time here, and I'm worried you might not be used to sleeping in a room alone."

“No problem,” Sachiko Ito quickly replied, “One room is fine.”

My God, is this a Russian-style mansion? It really feels like flowing gold.

Saori Yamada mustered her courage and asked the shop owner for his opinion: "What price should we pay for this fleece coat in the Tokyo store?"

The wholesale price is already $35, so even if the retail profit is squeezed down, it should still be at least $50.

She really didn't know how to price it.

In Tokyo, fleece clothing is sometimes made into jackets and sometimes into hiking gear. The cheapest jacket costs 5,900 yen, while hiking gear costs over 10,000 yen.

"No, 3000 yen." Wang Xiao had already come up with the advertising slogan: "3000 yen for a warm winter."

Yamada Saori's eyes widened: "3000 yen? Only 3000 yen?"

Wang Xiao smiled and said, "The high price of fleece clothing is due to the raw materials. Russians are generally larger, so they use more material. In contrast, Japanese clothing uses less material, so we can lower the price. We want to make Yi no U the most considerate partner for everyone. Even if it's cheap, it can still keep you comfortable and warm during the winter. I hope our first store can quickly gain a foothold and we can open stores all over Japan within five years. In the next five-year plan, we want to open stores outside of Japan. Hong Kong, Taiwan, mainland China, Southeast Asia, South Korea, Europe, North America, and so on. We want to open stores all over the world."

She had said something similar during her first interview with Saori Yamada.

At the time, Saori Yamada thought this was just a common empty promise from her boss.

But now, Yamada Saori is absolutely certain that what the boss said is true.

"Keep it up!" Wang Xiao smiled slightly. "The company is currently acquiring land in Shanghai. I hope that once our building is completed, the flagship store of Yi no U can be successfully opened."

Yamada Saori's adrenaline surged instantly, and the intense excitement made her involuntarily issue a challenge: "No problem, I can definitely do it!"

Wang Xiao smiled and nodded: "Alright, you should go back and get some rest. You've worked hard, and I wish you sweet dreams."

Ivanov finally calmed the housekeeper down. Holding his bedtime milk, he winked at Wu Haoyu and sighed to Wang Xiao, "Look how much I love you. I brought him home to make you happy. Enjoy the night, my dear Catherine the Great. May you have a radiant smile every day from now on. God, how I love your smile. I chase your smile like a sunflower chases the sun."

Listen to that, what a heartfelt confession.

If this were a romance novel, some readers might already be calling for him to take over.

However, the Queen of the Sea knew the King of the Sea best. Wang Xiao simply crossed her arms, smiled at him, and silently counted in her mind.

Ivanov struck a pose and urged her, "Your Majesty, get some rest. Your sweetness is my happiness."

Wang Xiao gave a forced smile: "No rush, the night is long. My dear Ivanov, perhaps we can sit down and have a leisurely chat."

Ivanov laughed and looked at her intently: "No need, you need to get your beauty sleep, I understand. Don't worry, my heart always beats for you, as long as you're happy, I'll do anything."

The sound of a car could be heard outside the villa. Ivanov quickly placed his free hand on Wang Xiao's shoulder: "Go to sleep, you've worked too hard, my queen. Sweet dreams."

Wang Xiao extended her index finger and pressed it against his chest, smiling sweetly: "Really? My dear Ivanov, are you sure you want me to go back to my room now? But I think we can still have a good talk."

The sound of high heels clicking on the marble floor rang out as a stylish woman with a hot figure and a face resembling Hollywood sex symbol Sharon Stone walked into the downstairs lobby.

She stared wide-eyed in surprise at Wang Xiao's fingers lodged on Ivanov's chest, her brows furrowing in displeasure: "Hey! What do you mean, Ivanov?"

Wang Xiao burst into laughter, turned around and gestured to her, then waved and turned to greet Ivanov: "Have a sweet evening, my friend."

Ivanov groaned in frustration, managing only a forced smile: "Of course, I wish you a pleasant evening, my friend."

God, why didn't he send the king back to his room a minute earlier?

Now, the prerequisite for him to have a sweet night is that he can please his female companion.