Chapter 37 – Bad News and a New Beginning
"The foundation of civilization in Western societies," Zhang Weida said with a smile, "is the mutual recognition of patent law. So in developed countries, unless the interests involved are truly enormous, there usually aren't any serious problems."
"That's good to hear," Yang Wendong nodded. "The patent I want to register isn't exactly some high-value invention either."
Even though Western nations were historically built on piracy, conquest, and theft, once they achieved economic development, they had to put on the mask of civilization.
After World War II, countries like the United States began to promote patent agreements, trade liberalization, and environmental regulations—not out of altruism, but to solidify their global advantages and hold developing countries back.
Zhang nodded. "Alright, so what kind of patent are we talking about?"
"I'll tell you once the company is officially registered," Yang replied.
"That's fine," Zhang said. "But just so you know—not everything can be patented. Some things just don't meet the legal requirements, and sometimes someone else might have already registered it in another country. If that happens, your patent could still be voided later."
Yang thought for a moment. "How long is a utility patent valid for?"
Zhang answered, "That depends on the country. Some are valid for 10 years, some 15, others 20. The Paris Convention only ensures mutual recognition, but every country has its own patent law. I can look into the details for you, but that would be an additional charge."
"No need," Yang waved it off. "Ten years is plenty for me."
In reality, even in the modern age, the practical lifespan of many patents was only a few years. Competitors would always find ways to work around them.
For Yang, the goal was simply to capitalize on the early stage advantage.
Zhang nodded. "Alright, saves me a trip to the archives."
"Okay, then we'll leave it here for today," Yang said, rising from his seat. "I'll come back in two days to complete the paperwork."
"Sounds good," Zhang replied. "We'll register the company then."
…
Back at his combined home and office, Yang found Su Yiyi hunched over a desk, surrounded by columns of handwritten figures.
"Brother Dong!" she looked up and smiled. "Have you eaten? We still have some lunch left. I can reheat it."
"I'll eat in a bit," Yang said, glancing over the ledgers. "Looks like things are getting a bit complicated, huh?"
Su Yiyi nodded. "Yeah. With 16 employees, daily supply expenses, rat trap purchases, weekly income—it used to be easy to track everything, but now it's getting messy.
"And now that we're registering the company, the books can't be as disorganized as before."
Yang nodded thoughtfully. "True. But don't stress too much. Most startups in Hong Kong are chaotic in the beginning. Once we grow, we can hire a professional."
"Should we look for someone now?" she asked.
"Not yet," Yang replied. "Maybe someone part-time. They could stop by for a few hours on weekends or evenings to look things over—and maybe even teach you.
"I don't really know anything about accounting myself."
In his past life, Yang had never dealt with finance directly. And besides, modern systems were all computerized.
The current system, all done by hand, was completely foreign to him.
He had taught Su Yiyi basic arithmetic, and she had improved quickly—but the level of complexity was now outpacing them both.
"Okay," she agreed. "Sounds reasonable."
"Did the company registration go through?"
"Not yet," Yang replied. "Once the documents are ready, we'll finalize it in two days."
"Alright," she said. "Go eat something. We'll go through the numbers together later."
"Sure."
After lunch, they sat down together to check the books. While mistakes wouldn't be disastrous at this stage, Yang believed in forming good habits early.
Attention to detail today could prevent major problems tomorrow.
…
Later that afternoon, Zhao Liming returned.
With their new recruits becoming more competent, and the rat situation in the warehouses steadily improving, the workload had lightened for everyone—including Yang and Liming.
"Come eat," Yang called out. "Aunt Guo made plenty today."
Life still wasn't luxurious, but now that they had a stable roof over their heads, and no longer worried about food, even plain rice and steamed buns felt like blessings.
"I've got some bad news, Brother Dong," Zhao Liming said as he sat down.
Yang looked up. "What's wrong?"
"I visited about ten warehouses today and chatted with the Chinese mid-level managers," Liming explained. "Several of them said that now that the rat problem has improved, they don't want to keep paying."
"I figured," Yang said, nodding. "They think the rats are mostly gone. And they probably picked up a few of our methods along the way. Now they think they can handle it themselves."
"You're not worried?"
"Of course I'm worried. But worrying won't solve anything. I expected this."
Human nature doesn't change.
Once people stop seeing a problem in front of them, they stop caring.
Even when it concerns their own future, they procrastinate until it's too late.
Yang recalled dating a nurse in his past life. She once told him that many diabetic patients ignored their diagnosis because they didn't feel symptoms.
They'd keep eating poorly, drinking excessively, and only changed their habits after complications kicked in—when it was too late.
And if people treated their own health that carelessly, how could they be expected to treat a rat problem seriously?
Even in modern China, extermination companies rarely had long-term clients.
It was a job-to-job business.
"So what now?" Liming asked, concern on his face. "Are we about to start losing clients?"
Yang took a deep breath. "Which is why we need to seize the Kowloon Wharf extermination job while we still have momentum.
"Make our money. Build our name. Then, we can pivot. Or attract new clients who see what we can really do."
Liming nodded. "Understood. What should I do now?"
"Eat," Yang said, standing up. "Then come with me. We need to go out and buy a few things."
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