Golden Spoon Investment Portfolio - Chapter 370

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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370. Welcome to Beijing.

The Gulfstream IV private jet touched down smoothly and taxied along the guidance lane before coming to a halt at the Parking Lot designated for it on one side of the expansive airport.
Moments later, the stairs descended, and Seok-won—dressed in a no-tie shirt with a blue silk pocket square for accent—disembarked from the private jet alongside his Attendant Secretary, Han Ji-sung.
A robust middle-aged man in his mid-forties emerged from the terminal with two subordinates to greet him warmly.

“Welcome. We’re delighted to have you in Beijing.”

Though his English carried a distinctive accent, it was perfectly comprehensible. Seok-won smiled and clasped the extended hand in a firm handshake.

“Thank you for coming all the way to the airport to welcome me.”
“Ha ha ha. Of course I had to come out—after all, it’s President Min himself who’s visiting.”

The hearty-laughing middle-aged man’s name was Wang Yongwei, and he served as Vice General Manager of China Telecom, the nation’s largest wired telecommunications company. His position was exceptionally senior—he held the dual titles of Vice General Manager and Chief Financial Officer, effectively serving as the company’s CFO.
China’s corporate structure and titles differed significantly from those in Korea and other Western nations.
Generally, a General Manager represented the CEO who actually ran the company, while a Vice President often held a title-only position with little real authority.
Wang Yongwei occupied a considerably elevated post within China Telecom’s hierarchy.
Gesturing with one arm toward the Mercedes-Benz sedan positioned behind him, Wang Yongwei spoke.

“Shall we discuss matters on the way to the hotel?”
“Of course.”

Seok-won nodded slightly and took his seat in the rear of the prepared vehicle, settling in beside Wang Yongwei.
The Mercedes-Benz sedan led the way as three vehicles carrying the entourage departed in formation, exiting the Parking Lot.
Once they left the airport grounds and entered the road toward Beijing’s city center, Wang Yongwei, seated beside Seok-won, spoke.

“Without the assistance of the Eldorado Fund during last week’s New York Stock Exchange listing, we would have faced considerable embarrassment.”

Seok-won responded with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“We were fortunate to partner with such a promising enterprise as China Telecom. It was an excellent transaction for us as well.”
“We appreciate your perspective.”

China Telecom, one of China’s premier telecommunications companies, had partially privatized and listed a portion of its shares on the New York Stock Exchange in the form of American Depositary Receipts to secure the capital necessary for large-scale telecommunications infrastructure investments in alignment with the nation’s reform and opening-up policies.
Wang Yongwei clicked his tongue regretfully and continued.

“When we first prepared for the listing, Goldman Sachs, selected as the lead underwriter, predicted we could secure $28 per share. Who could have foreseen the offering price plummeting to just $2.50—less than 10% of that—in mere months?”

I could well imagine the crushing disappointment of watching the listing jackpot evaporate, reduced to a tenth of its anticipated value.
I offered consolation in my response.

“You could certainly have struck the jackpot. It was simply misfortune—the Asian currency crisis erupted at precisely that moment, the Hong Kong stock market collapsed, and unfortunately, you caught the shrapnel from that explosion.”

Wang Yongwei’s face crumpled with indignation as he replied.

“Whenever I think back to that time, the injustice of it still keeps me awake at night.”

He then bowed his head slightly toward me, expressing his gratitude once more.

“We nearly suffered the humiliation of falling below the offering price on the very first day. Thanks to your massive stock purchases, we managed to preserve our dignity.”

China Telecom listed on the New York Stock Exchange at $2.50 per share—far below initial projections—but with stock markets in Hong Kong and New York in free fall and investors shunning Asian companies amid the currency crisis, the market turned its back on the offering. Instead of buying, investors rushed to sell, driving the price below the listing level, which is when I orchestrated a massive buyback through Frey, my personal investment company.
The volume I acquired amounted to over 600 million shares—exceeding 37% of China Telecom’s publicly listed stock on the New York Stock Exchange.
The volume I acquired amounted to over 600 million shares—exceeding 37% of China Telecom’s publicly listed stock on the New York Stock Exchange.

“The current conditions have undervalued the company, but it won’t be long before other investors recognize China Telecom’s true worth and it receives proper valuation.”

As I spoke in measured tones, Wang Yongwei’s expression brightened with genuine appreciation.

“I sincerely hope that comes to pass.”

The IT bubble’s winds fueled explosive growth not only among American dot-com companies.
Particularly, the stock prices of telecommunications companies across various nations—those controlling communications infrastructure—surged dramatically.
China Telecom was no exception, and backed by the protection of Beijing’s power elite and China’s rapidly expanding economy, it would transform within a mere decade into a telecommunications giant ranking among the world’s top 50 by market capitalization.
Knowing this well, I had invested the enormous sum of $1.5 billion to acquire China Telecom shares in massive quantities.

‘Stock that will multiply dozens of times over is on clearance sale. Only a fool would pass this up.’

Moreover, through the China Telecom stock acquisition, I gained direct connections to Beijing’s core power circles—a genuine two-for-one opportunity.
Clearing my thoughts, I asked.

“By the way, how did the matter with Liu Shangfu work out?”
“As I mentioned, I’ve arranged for us to have lunch together tomorrow.”
“That was quite an abrupt request. Thank you for helping me with this.”
“Not at all. It wasn’t particularly difficult.”

Wang Yongwei chuckled softly, his eyes darting about as he spoke.

“But why do you wish to meet with Liu Shangfu?”

Seok-won, fully aware of Wang Yongwei’s probing intent, replied with studied composure.

“I’m interested in investing in mainland China, and I’ve heard that Fujian Province is actively pursuing foreign capital. I thought it would be worthwhile to have a conversation.”
“I see.”

Observing the faint skepticism on Wang Yongwei’s face, I continued.

“And I’d also like to cultivate relationships with the younger generation of politicians who will lead China in the future.”

Only then did Wang Yongwei’s expression shift to one of understanding.
Foreign capital attraction was merely a convenient pretext; what truly made sense was his desire to establish connections with China’s core power structure in advance.

“Liu Shangfu, the son of a revolutionary elder who even served as Vice Premier of the State Council, is certainly a promising young politician. At the 15th Party Congress that just concluded, he originally would have fallen short at 151st place, but with the special decision to elect one additional member, he was selected as an alternate member of the Central Committee.”
“I’ve heard that as well.”

Wang Yongwei lowered his voice slightly.

“There’s talk that the party’s senior officials broke protocol and expanded the number of alternate members only this year because they view Liu Shangfu favorably.”

Seok-won’s eyes gleamed with interest.

“That’s the first I’ve heard of it.”
“Most of the senior party leadership at Zhongnanhai conducted revolutionary activities alongside Liu’s father, so naturally their loyalties run deep.”
“That makes sense.”

As our conversation continued, the motorcade entered Beijing proper and arrived at the Beijing Hotel, our lodging for the stay.
Though it was a hotel of considerable historical significance, having first opened in 1900, the building had been completely demolished and reconstructed in 1974, leaving it with modern, well-appointed facilities.
Stepping from the car, I proceeded with Wang Yongwei under the guidance of the hotel manager, crossing the marble-floored lobby and ascending directly by elevator to the penthouse on the top floor, bypassing the standard check-in process.

“This is the penthouse where you’ll be staying.”

The Manager gestured with one arm, guiding him into the suite whose door stood wide open.
The moment I stepped inside, the sprawling panorama of Beijing unfolded before me through the expansive window across the room.
Though the city had only recently entered its period of rapid growth and lacked the towering skyscrapers common elsewhere, the absence of haphazard development meant that Beijing’s ancient character—steeped in centuries of Chinese history—remained beautifully preserved in the landscape below.
The interior was appointed with the finest materials and furnishings, which was only natural given that this suite served as accommodation for foreign dignitaries and heads of state visiting Beijing on official business, including those from the United States.
As Seok-won gave a subtle nod of approval, Wang Yongwei smiled and spoke.

“Until yesterday, the rooms were completely full with attendees of the 15th Party Congress. Fortunately, the Penthouse happened to become available right when you were arriving, so we were able to secure the reservation.”
“We were fortunate indeed.”

As Wang Yongwei watched the two bellhops move the luggage about, he broached the subject casually.

“Our Vice President and General Manager would very much like to treat you to dinner this evening. Would that be acceptable?”
“Of course. After you’ve gone to such trouble, it would be discourteous to come all the way to Beijing and leave without seeing them.”
“Then when would be most convenient for you to arrange the appointment?”
“I have other matters to attend to, so I won’t be staying long. Tomorrow evening seems like it would work well. How does that suit you?”

Wang Yongwei chuckled softly in response.

“I’ll confirm the schedule and contact you again.”
“Please do.”

As Seok-won surveyed the Penthouse, Wang Yongwei spoke with a slight bow.

“You must be exhausted. Please rest well, and I’ll take my leave now.”
“We’ll see each other again tomorrow.”

After exchanging handshakes, Wang Yongwei departed with the hotel Manager.
While Han Ji-sung, my Attendant Secretary, excused himself to organize the luggage, I walked toward the enormous panoramic glass window.
Unlike the Plaza Hotel Penthouse in New York, this suite lacked an outdoor balcony, so I couldn’t breathe the fresh air outside—a minor disappointment—but gazing out at the unobstructed vista, the fatigue from the flight seemed to gradually lift.

* * *

The next day.
Right on schedule, Seok-won arrived at the appointed location, riding in a large Mercedes sedan with Wang Yongwei.

“This is Quanjude, the original establishment famous throughout Beijing for its Peking duck.”

As I stepped out of the car and observed the building’s distinctly classical ambiance, I offered a light quip.

“I can already smell something delicious.”
“It first opened in 1864 and is the oldest and finest establishment in Beijing. Even American and former Soviet leaders who visited China have dined here.”

Wang Yongwei explained with a smile, his expression brimming with pride.

“So this is the place where Kissinger, who came for those historic diplomatic talks, tasted Beijing duck once and became so enamored that he frequently enjoyed it thereafter?”
“The Beijing duck he ate back then was prepared by a chef at Zhongnanhai, but our head chef’s skills are no less impressive.”
“Hearing you say that makes me even more eager to taste the food today.”
“Of course. I assure you, you won’t be disappointed.”

Wang Yongwei spoke with confidence as he and his companion made their way toward the restaurant’s main entrance.
Female Servers dressed in the famous red cheongsam of traditional Chinese attire stood in a neat line from the entrance, bowing in unison with warm smiles on their faces.

“Welcome.”

When Wang Yongwei introduced himself to the Female Server at the front, she responded immediately.

“Your party has already arrived.”

She then guided the two men to the private room that had been reserved in advance.
Passing through a corridor lined with thick carpet and entering the private chamber prepared deeper within, they found a spacious room with a round table where a middle-aged man was already waiting alongside what appeared to be an attendant.
It was Liu Shangfu, the deputy secretary who would become China’s supreme leader years later.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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