Chapter 4: The Debtor Is King

"President Wang, do you think that Huang He might have already run away?" Inside a moving Audi, someone spoke with a tone full of worry.

"He shouldn’t have. I heard that yesterday the workers had already trapped Huang He in the office building, and there are still workers keeping an eye on him. He can’t get away," the deputy president of GS Bank replied coolly. Yet, a faint trace of sorrow lingered between his brows, impossible to erase.

"Well, whether he runs or not makes little difference. Huang He definitely can’t cough up a penny. All we can do is use his mortgaged factory and stock as compensation for the debt, but how much could those be worth?"

"That’s right. I heard this time there are over a thousand workers owed wages. After selling off those assets, most of the proceeds will go toward paying them first—for the sake of stability above all else. If we can recover even a fraction of our 350 million, we’ll be considered lucky!"

"Shut up," the deputy president snapped at his talkative subordinate, who immediately fell silent.

His own state of mind was on the verge of collapse—for he had approved this loan himself. He’d thought Huang He seemed capable, a returnee with overseas experience and a promising future. Most importantly, the bank had loan quotas to fill, so he’d signed a 350 million loan contract with Jiangnan Leather Factory.

The joy he’d felt signing the contract was matched by the gloom he now felt. If the 350 million couldn’t be recovered, he knew he’d be forced into early retirement.

He was only fifty, with fifteen years left to go.

Lost in endless worry, the deputy president arrived at the gates of Jiangnan Leather Factory. Contrary to his expectations of being shunned like the plague, he found Huang He already waiting outside, personally greeting him with a few others and ushering him enthusiastically into his office.

He’d dealt with plenty of delinquent borrowers before; they either vanished entirely, making themselves impossible to find, or treated him with icy indifference, moaning about their poverty and insisting they had nothing left—leaving everything to the courts.

Once bankrupt, who cared if you were the president of a bank? Their attitude was a world away from when the loans were first granted.

Yet Huang He now was unexpectedly warm and welcoming, making the deputy president feel somewhat at ease.

But comfort could not stave off the difficult conversation ahead.

"Chairman Huang, it’s time for your repayment," the deputy president said.

"I know," Huang He nodded. "Today I’m supposed to make the first payment to your bank—a total of 80 million. I’m well aware."

"Do you have the money to repay?"

"Yes!"

"Chairman Huang, our bank isn’t exactly flush either... What did you say?" The deputy president suddenly wondered if he’d misheard.

"I have the money," Huang He replied with a smile.

"Really?" The deputy president’s delight was obvious.

"Absolutely," Huang He assured.

"So, when will you transfer the funds?"

"In three months."

The deputy president’s expression froze. After a moment, he snorted coldly, "So that’s what you’re after, Chairman Huang. You want to delay repayment for three months? That’s impossible. Out of the question!"

"Okay." Huang He shrugged indifferently. "Then it doesn't matter to me. Take whatever you find of value here—my entire estate is right here. At worst, I’ll spend a few years in prison. How much you recover depends on your ability!"

"Are you trying to play games with me?" the deputy president fumed.

"President Wang, you know better than I do whether I’m playing games. All my funds have been handled through GS Bank. There’s no way you don’t know exactly what I have left."

"I’m trapped here by the workers and I don’t have a cent left—just this ruined shell. You can smash it to pieces now, or you can give me three months. In three months, I guarantee to find a way to pay you the first 80 million," Huang He replied, calmly confident.

He had been thoroughly schooled by countless political and financial articles over the years: the one who owes money is the true master. Now that he owed 350 million, he was the real boss—what fear could a mere deputy president inspire?

"Why should I believe you’ll pay in three months?" the deputy president demanded. "This is just a stalling tactic. In three months, you’ll be long gone."

"No matter what I say now, you’ll have your doubts," Huang He smiled faintly. "But if you seize my assets now, you’ll get, at most, 50 million."

"If you come back in three months, you’ll still get 50 million at worst—or you might get the 80 million repayment."

Huang He cleaned his ear nonchalantly. "President Wang, times are tough for everyone. GS Bank has had dozens of bad loans over 100 million in Wenzhou alone, hasn’t it?"

"And a large portion of those are your own."

"But if you recover this loan from me, you’ll be the only one in GS Bank to have reclaimed a loan—an achievement without equal. Isn’t that something you want?"

"This... this..." President Wang was caught between hope and doubt. He was almost certain Huang He was just buying time to escape, but the slimmest possibility of repayment, and the glory that would come with it, tugged at him.

Such is human nature: in the darkest moments, even a glimmer of hope can ignite immense longing, or the urge to gamble.

What if, just what if, the money came back?

"President Wang, if you seize the factory now, not three months or even thirty years from now will you ever get your money back," Huang He added, as if reading his thoughts.

"Fine, I’ll give you three months," President Wang finally resolved, deciding to take the risk. After all, if it failed, he would simply retire early.

"I’ll be going then." President Wang had come empty-handed and would leave the same way.

"Wait a moment," Huang He called out. "President Wang, the company only has 100,000 left. I can’t implement my next business plan. Why not grant me another one million in credit for working capital?"

"Do you take me for a fool?" President Wang eyed Huang He as if he were mad.

"With that million, your eighty million and three hundred and fifty million might be recovered. Otherwise, you might as well seize the factory now," Huang He said earnestly.

"I really can’t do it," President Wang shook his head. "It’s a policy issue—if I make that mistake, I’ll end up behind bars."

"No problem, it’s not under the company’s name," Huang He smiled. "My sister-in-law has a forty-square-meter apartment. She can mortgage it for a million. That’s enough, right?"

"Fine," President Wang gritted his teeth.

A forty-square-meter apartment in Wenzhou was worth less than 150,000 on the new housing market.

"Thank you, President Wang. But it must be quick—approval within three days at the latest. I need it urgently!"

"Alright," President Wang replied, nearly grinding his teeth to dust.