Rebirth: Seven Years in a Great Dream

Chapter 29: Sold Out in a Flash

Mu Dong had no idea that some sandyard owners were badmouthing him—and even if he did, he wouldn’t have had time to care. He felt as if every second counted. Right now, the yard started work before dawn every day and didn’t finish until very late; the two night-shift conveyor teams worked around the clock, letting the machines run nonstop while the workers took breaks. On November 27, the day after Order No. 7 was issued, the new yard unloaded 1,100 truckloads of sand On November 28, 1,160 trucks A few days later, those sandyard owners realized something didn’t seem quite right. In the past, when the city issued a ban on sand dredging, it was just mentioned on TV, published in the newspapers, and then village officials would issue a notice: “Don’t take your boats out on the river for a few days; just play it safe and don’t cause any trouble.” Then everyone would stay off the river for three or five days, and once they heard the inspections were over, everything would be back to normal. This time, it seemed much the same—the village officials did indeed show up when the notice was issued. But the village officials had been reduced to mere bystanders; accompanying them were officials from the county Public Security Bureau, the county Administration for Industry and Commerce, and the town government—a large contingent of over a dozen people. They went through the motions very formally—reading out documents, explaining the situation, and laying out the consequences—which left everyone feeling anxious. The key point is that someone was filming the entire process. Every nook and cranny of the sandyard was captured on video. It seemed they were serious this time. By this time, it was already December 2nd. A few shrewd sandyard owners caught on to what was going on and, using various excuses, stopped delivering sand to Mu Jiaxin’s storage yard. As a result, on December 2, Mu Jiaxin’s stockpile unloaded 900 truckloads of sand. That evening, Mu Dong told Mu Daguo that, starting tomorrow, they would suspend sand sales at the old yard. On December 3, 700 truckloads of sand were unloaded at Mu Jiaxin’s yard. On December 4, 400 truckloads. On December 5, word spread that the Armed Police had been deployed to clear sand from the city’s waterways; they immediately seized several dredgers on the spot, cut them up with oxyacetylene torches, and destroyed them, and arrested several people. As a result, Mu Jiaxin’s yard unloaded only 200 truckloads of sand that day. On December 6, not a single truck arrived at the Mu Jiaxin Stockyard to unload sand. So Boss Mu announced that they would perform equipment maintenance, clean up the site, and have a dinner gathering that evening. The dinner venue was once again chosen at the old storage yard, as the building there was spacious. With a total of 37 workers, Mu Dong also called to invite Mu Huafeng and Uncle Mu San, bringing the total to 39 people, who were seated at four tables. Everything was set up in the large central lounge; it was quite crowded, but the atmosphere was lively. Before they started drinking, Mu Dong addressed the group on four points. First, the sand stockpiling task had been completed. Now that the government had closed off the river channel, sand prices were expected to rise. Both stockpiling yards would be shut down for a break. Second, a few essential staff members will remain on site; the rest are all on a 15-day leave, during which their wages will be paid at half the usual rate. Third, in half a month, everyone should report back to work on time—we’ll have plenty to keep us busy in the future. Fourth, everyone should eat and drink to their heart’s content. The atmosphere grew even more lively. A 15-day vacation—and still get paid? After all, they were all temporary workers—could they really expect such treatment? As a result, to show their deep respect for Boss Mu, the crowd got him drunk again… Mr. Mu didn’t wake up until very late the next morning. Without the roar of the machines, he’d slept incredibly soundly. Mu Dong assigned Mu Daguo, Xie Donglin, Su Peng, and Uncle Mu to stay behind at the old stockpile. Zhong Guodong, Mu’s dad, and Tan Jiaming were left to guard the new stockpile. Mu’s mom, Second Aunt, and Mu Xiaoxia were in charge of meals. Su Peng felt a bit guilty about not working but still receiving a salary—a high one at that—so he asked Mu Dong for time off. Mu Dong said, “Brother, if you have family matters to attend to, go home for a few days—you’ll still get your full pay. If not, stay here and help me out.” Su Peng was deeply touched and ultimately decided to go home for a visit, planning to return in three or five days. Mu Dong ran the numbers for the new stockpile: a total of 19,000 truckloads of sand had been unloaded, amounting to 114,000 cubic meters on paper, though the actual volume should be 123,000 cubic meters. There was still a large expanse of empty space at the new stockpile, capable of holding another 20,000 to 30,000 cubic meters. “Give me another three or five days, and I’ll be able to fill up the new storage yard,” Mu Dong thought to himself. Then he thought, “It’s already not bad—I’m being too greedy…” Next, Mu Dong went over the finances with his sister, Mu Xiaoxia. After subtracting the payment due for the sand from the last week, the current balance in the account was only 63,000 yuan. And that didn’t even account for the workers’ wages due for November and the current month. Mu Dong grimaced. Just a moment ago, he’d been greedy enough to want to fill the stockpile to the brim, but now he realized they were already out of money. If he brought in a few thousand more truckloads, how would he pay the suppliers? And this was despite having sold 450,000 yuan worth of sand in the past month—without that 450,000 yuan, they would have been strapped for cash long ago. Well, the numbers speak for themselves. Boss Mu was very satisfied—he’d finally spent every last penny! Since the workers were on vacation, Boss Mu decided to take some time off for himself as well. Mu Dong instructed his sister to disburse the final settlement payments to the drivers as soon as possible. After a quick lunch, he got in his car and drove to Quancheng. Mu Dong and Xiao Xiao resumed their sweet, cozy life together. Boss Mu devoted himself wholeheartedly to playing multiple roles. Full-time chauffeur—picking up and dropping off Xiao Xiao for work every day Full-time housekeeper—shopping for groceries, cooking meals, and doing laundry; as soon as she picked him up, she’d head straight to the kitchen Top-Notch Lover—midnight sessions, tireless, and skilled… On the third day back in Quancheng, Mu Dong received a call from Mu Huafeng. The city’s development zone was officially being expanded; all townships located upstream of the confluence of the Ying River and the Shu River were being incorporated into the development zone. On December 9, the city suddenly dispatched a large number of officials, who split into several groups and traveled to each township to announce the news. On the spot, they sealed away the official seals, archives, accounts, documents, and all other materials from each township. Two pieces of news that had been rumored for several years quickly became reality. Mu Dong had long known that the establishment of a national-level river scenic area was a prerequisite for these townships to be incorporated into the development zone. Now, two weeks after the scenic area’s establishment, the announcement to merge the townships near the river into the municipal development zone was a natural next step. Great—now that both conditions are met, wealth is within reach. Wait a little longer—it’s not the peak yet. In between playing his various roles, Mu Dong took the time to meet with Han Yong, Cheng Qiang, and Cai Jiaojiao. He briefed them separately on the current situation at the storage yard and mentioned two positive factors, telling them: “We’ve run out of money, but we’ll start making money very soon.” The group was puzzled by the passion in Mu Dong’s voice when he said, “We’ve spent all our money.” Little did they know the agony Mu Dong had gone through trying to find ways to spend it. Cheng Qiang remarked, “Did something get to you? The way you’re talking, it sounds like running out of money is the same as getting relief from constipation?” Cai Jiaojiao, who was stirring her coffee, frowned and pinched Cheng Qiang, saying, “Are you being gross or what?” Mu Dong stared blankly, thinking to himself, “They’re so close—it looks like the fat guy’s finally gotten his way.” Cheng Qiang had already finished the written portion of the civil service exam and was waiting for his interview—he had plenty of free time on his hands. Since he was hanging around Cai Jiaojiao every day, it was only a matter of time before he made his move. Mu Daguo called on Thursday to ask Mu Dong when he was coming back. He mentioned that some long-haul delivery drivers from out of town had been calling recently, asking when they’d start selling sand—and saying they’d be willing to pay a slightly higher price. Mu Dong replied that they weren’t selling for the time being and that he’d be back in a few days. After hanging up, Mu Dong thought to himself, “It seems major projects in some provinces outside the region have started construction, and sand prices have already gone up. ‘A little higher’? That won’t do—they’ve got to be much higher…” Mu Dong spent a few more days leisurely living out his “cover story,” and finally, on December 15, he returned to southern Shandong feeling refreshed and invigorated. Mu Dong found a place in the city to park his Audi, then hailed a taxi and drove around to check out the sand quarries near the city center. The loading rate for local pickup trucks or “four-in-one” vehicles was 120 yuan per truckload, equivalent to 20 yuan per cubic meter, while the rate for out-of-town vehicles had already reached 30 yuan per cubic meter. Afterward, Mu Dong drove back home and asked his father about the prices at the sand pits around Mu Village—they had already reached 95 yuan per truckload. It had only been a little over a week, yet the price had already risen from the 68 yuan Mu Dong had last offered to 95 yuan. The Mu family was thrilled and took great care in tending the sand pit. This massive pile of sand—it wasn’t just sand; it was practically gold! In the few townships that had just been incorporated into the development zone, residents were gradually beginning to build houses. At first, some people said that while regulations on new construction weren’t strict yet, they wouldn’t allow people to build freely in the future, so those who needed to renovate their homes sprang into action. Some tore down their tile-roofed houses and began building small two- or three-story buildings. Later, rumors spread that a residential complex would be built here, and these tile-roofed houses would eventually be demolished. When demolition came, the larger the house, the more compensation a family would receive. So many people started figuring out how to make their homes bigger. It was easy—just add a story! Or even two! For those that were originally single-story, they simply added a story on top For those with tile-roofed houses, they tore off the roof, poured a concrete slab to create a flat roof, and then added a story on top. In their own courtyards, people could install fiberglass roofing, turning the courtyard into part of the house—apparently, that counts toward the total floor area If you have a vegetable garden—even just two fen of land—you can build a simple structure there; I’ve heard that as long as it’s over 2. 2 meters tall, it counts toward the living area One after another, household after household, most people sprang into action. Mu’s parents were tempted too. They asked Mu Dong, “Why don’t we tear off our roof too, and then…” Mu Dong pursed his lips and said, “We’re not going to jump on the bandwagon. This area won’t be developed for at least five years, so building now would be way too expensive. Our house does need some work, though. Let’s do it next year—we’ll come up with a proper design then.” Mu’s parents didn’t say anything else—their son had a plan, so they’d just take it slow. Persuaded by Mu Dong, Uncle Mu also gave up on his renovation plans. Besides, he didn’t have the money anyway—it was all in Mu Dong’s hands. Uncle Mu III ultimately couldn’t stand up to Aunt Mu III and decided to add a story to the single-story building housing his family’s supermarket. Before they knew it, it was already December 22nd. The Mu Family Sand Yard’s holiday break had ended, and the workers had all returned to the yard. Mu Dong asked Mu Daguo to send a text message to the drivers whose contact information he had, announcing that the Mu Family Sand Yard had resumed sand sales at 40 yuan per cubic meter, with a free lunch and free water refills for all vehicles. The location was the new sand yard, which offered convenient transportation and unobstructed roads. At this point, loading prices at sand yards near the city had already reached 45 yuan per cubic meter, making the Mu Family Yard’s price of 40 yuan extremely attractive. At the same time, Mu’s Yard announced to nearby sand yards that there was money to be made for everyone: they would supply fellow operators at 110 yuan per truckload (6 cubic meters), with customers required to pick up the sand themselves. Meanwhile, nearby sand yards were charging 120 yuan per truckload to outside customers, and 150 yuan for delivery to the city center. Mu Dong decided to cover the 10-yuan price difference—partly to build good relations with his peers, and partly to move inventory quickly. Although prices were expected to rise further later on, Mu Dong didn’t plan to wait. For one thing, his workers couldn’t afford to be idle; for another, the timing of his move was too precise, which might arouse suspicion. Over the course of the morning, five trucks arrived to buy sand—all regular customers—and they left fully loaded after a hearty meal. In the afternoon, 17 trucks arrived all at once—they’d all heard the news that morning and rushed over. With plenty of people at the Mu family’s yard and two loaders on hand, the trucks were loaded quickly. Sand transport trucks from other companies also arrived one after another to load up. Boss Mu laid out two rules for everyone: First, the load must be level with the truck bed—no protrusions—and filled to the full 6 cubic meters; second, cash on delivery—pay first, then load—though credit cards were also accepted. Well, that completely turned things upside down. Still, Mr. Mu is a fair-minded guy, and his prices are reasonable—everyone agrees on that. Anyway, these days, no matter who you’re dealing with, it’s cash on delivery. The government is really taking this seriously this time—they’ve impounded a lot of boats that were dredging sand from the river and even dismantled some on the spot with oxy-acetylene torches. Judging by the current situation, the ban won’t be lifted anytime soon; I suspect it might even be permanent—it is a national-level river scenic area, after all! Looking around, only Boss Mu has such a large storage yard and plenty of stock on hand. Now that he’s taken a more accommodating stance and is offering discounted prices to his peers, you’d better jump on it. No matter what, get some back to stockpile—prices are likely to go up again in the future. Mr. Mu, of course, knows prices will go up again. By doing this, he hopes everyone can make a little money together, earn a good reputation, and avoid arousing too much envy. So, the sand that the sandpit owner had delivered with such joy was taken back—at nearly double the price—just as cheerfully. That evening’s inventory showed that truck-loaded sales totaled 22 loads—650 cubic meters—with sales revenue of 26,000 yuan; local sand trucks loaded 200 loads in a single afternoon, generating 22,000 yuan in sales revenue, for a total daily sales revenue of 48,000 yuan. Mr. Mu put the money away and, as soon as the bank opened the next day, hurried to deposit it. On the second day after sales resumed, 500 truckloads were loaded on-site, generating 55,000 yuan in sales; 35 truckloads—totaling 1,000 cubic meters—were sold through the truck dispatch service, bringing in 40,000 yuan. Total sales for the day reached 95,000 yuan. Mu Xiaoxia and Mu Dong literally counted money until their hands cramped up, and by 4:00 p. m. , they had already deposited a large portion of it into the bank. On the third day, the Mu family’s yard adjusted its prices to 115 yuan per truckload, as external prices had also risen by 5 yuan. Boss Mu adjusted his prices in line with the market, and everyone agreed that this was acceptable. By the one-week mark since sales resumed, the price for a small truck had risen to 120 yuan per load, and the price for a cargo truck had risen to 45 yuan per cubic meter. By this point, the Mu Family Yard’s daily sales had reached over 150,000 yuan. Mu Dong quietly calculated that in eight days, cumulative sales had reached nearly 900,000 yuan. Prices then stabilized for a long period. Sales at the Mu Family Yard also stabilized for a long time, hovering around 150,000 yuan per day. How long did this period last? Two weeks—14 days. By January 12, 2009, prices no longer mattered. Because the sand at the Mu Family’s new stockpile had been completely—sold out! The pace of sales far exceeded Mu Dong’s expectations. He had originally just hoped to get sales off the ground quickly, but he never imagined he’d sell out an entire stockpile so fast. Mu Dong felt that the sand at the old stockpile couldn’t be sold off this quickly anymore; he’d already gone out of his way to help his peers, and he couldn’t keep making such a fool of himself. That day, after the last truckload of sand was sold, Mu Dong announced: “I set aside sand from one storage yard to help everyone make a profit. Now that this yard is completely sold out, my support for my fellow traders ends here. I ask for your understanding. Starting today, the old storage yard will no longer accept purchases from fellow traders; we will only handle truckload deliveries to out-of-town customers.” At the same time, Mu Dong announced to the truckers that the loading price would increase to 50 yuan per cubic meter, and he promised there would be no further price adjustments before the Spring Festival. Starting tomorrow, loading would take place at the old stockpile. The historical mission of the new stockpile has come to an end, and the workers are no longer needed. That evening, all the workers at the new stockpile were paid in full and left. The new stockpile operated for only two months and five days, including a half-month “half-pay leave” in the middle. Although the initial wage offer was 2,000 yuan per month, each worker ultimately received a solid 4,000 yuan and returned home in high spirits. Mr. Mu explained that the extra amount was a bonus. Mr. Mu also paid the workers at the old yard their wages for November and December. At the same time, since the workload had become less demanding and fewer support workers were needed, he laid off some employees, who were also given extra bonuses. That evening, with reddened eyes, Boss Mu spent a long time tallying the figures and finally arrived at a total of 3. 18 million yuan. This was the total sales revenue for the new yard. After the new yard ceased operations, Boss Mu took care of a few matters. First, he sold two conveyor belts—originally purchased for 10,000 yuan per set, they had been in use for only a few months and were still in excellent condition. He sold them for 6,000 yuan each, with Mu Tongqing and Zhong Lianjie each buying a set. At the same time, Mu Dong donated the prefabricated housing unit to Mu Tongqing free of charge. With that, the site of the new yard was completely cleared. Mu Dong called Tan Jiaming over and asked, “In your village, are those plows and harrows from the Dongfanghong tractors still there? You mentioned last time that you were going to sell them as scrap metal—I don’t know if you’ve sold them yet.” Tan Jiaming replied, “They should still be there. The last time I went to the village to pay my electricity bill, I saw them in the yard—though they’re all rusty.” Mu Dong: “Are they still usable?” “Sure they are. They’re heavy-duty tools—rust won’t ruin them. We’ll just need to replace the plow points, but those are easy to find; you can get them right in town,” Tan Jiaming said. “We’ve got harrows too—disc harrows, actually. Just attach them and they’re ready to go.” Tan Jiaming knew Mu Dong was talking about plowing the fields—this was his old trade, after all. Mu Dong asked him to take care of it and had Mu Huafeng call Tan Lianfu to discuss borrowing the equipment. Mu Dong hadn’t returned to Quancheng recently, and Xiao Xiao missed him so much that she came back twice—once on the weekend and once during the New Year’s holiday. But just as Xiao Xiao had feared, they’d only managed to see each other—they hadn’t been able to do anything else. “Xiao Xiao will just have to put up with this for a little while longer,” Mu Dong thought helplessly. Afterward, Mu Dong refocused his energy on sales at the old yard. As it turned out, the open space they’d set aside earlier had proven extremely useful; large vehicles could maneuver freely inside, greatly improving loading efficiency. On January 13 alone, the yard loaded 52 trucks, totaling 1,500 cubic meters, with sales reaching 75,000 yuan. This momentum has continued since then, with steady growth. Although the weather has turned cold, China is a vast country with a wide range of temperatures across its territory. In many southern cities, construction projects are in full swing, so recently, the trucks coming to load sand have all been from the south. Sand sales have not been affected by seasonal factors.