Chapter 11 – Opening a Bank Account
Hearing Elena's promise, Yang Wendong felt that all his words hadn't been in vain. He smiled and said, "Thank you. My traps are cheap, and whether for public or private use, they're cost-effective."
"You really have a business mind," Elena said with interest. "I didn't expect to meet someone like you here. I've lived in Hong Kong for over a decade and met many local businessmen. You remind me of them. I think one day, you might be among their ranks."
"I hope so," Yang Wendong replied, smiling politely.
In his previous life, he had worked in sales and run his own small business for over ten years. It was no wonder that some of those instincts showed now.
Experienced people could always spot whether someone had a business mindset—especially if they were good at talking and reading the room.
Elena nodded. "Well then, I hope that one day you'll become a factory owner, employing many workers and helping lift others out of poverty."
"I'd love that," Yang Wendong said. Right now, it was only a dream—but a dream that felt a little less distant now.
"I enjoyed talking with you today," Elena added. "Next time I come see you, I might bring a much larger order. If that happens, you'll need help—you could even start hiring people from the shantytown."
"No problem at all," Yang Wendong said confidently.
Right now, he and his team could only make so many traps per day. But if demand truly grew across the city—especially with help from someone like Elena—he'd absolutely have to expand his operation.
Of course, time would be a critical factor. Because there was no patent protection, anyone could copy his design. He had no legal defense.
Even if Hong Kong had patent laws, he couldn't afford the time or money to pursue a case.
So, the only real option was to move fast—scale up quickly and establish dominance. Elena might just be the breakthrough he needed.
Just as Elena was about to leave with the new bundle of traps, she turned back suddenly and said, "By the way, if we're going to place a larger order, the Hong Kong government can only pay by check. You'll need to open a bank account."
"A bank account?" Yang Wendong frowned. That could be a problem.
In any era, opening a bank account required a minimum deposit—and often additional requirements. Back in early 2000s mainland China, that was already the case. In 1958 Hong Kong, it was probably even stricter.
"Are you worried they won't let you open one?" Elena asked, noticing his hesitation.
"I know a Chinese-owned bank—Liu Chong Hing Bank," she said. "They accept small deposit accounts. You should try there."
"Liu Chong Hing Bank…" Yang Wendong's mind stirred. That name rang a bell.
If he remembered correctly, this bank was later known for being the first in Hong Kong to collapse due to a bank run. But right now, that hadn't happened yet.
"Brother Dong, what are you thinking about?" Su Yiyi nudged him.
Yang Wendong snapped out of his thoughts and smiled. "Nothing. Just thinking about that bank."
"I've never been to a bank before. Can I go with you?" she asked shyly.
"Uh… sure, of course," he replied after a moment of hesitation.
In this era, bank accounts weren't something most Chinese residents could get. Even if you had the money, many British-owned banks refused to serve Chinese clients.
Discrimination was everywhere, even if no one talked about it openly. The only Chinese who were allowed into the upper-class financial world were those used by the British as intermediaries.
As for poor shantytown dwellers—they weren't even qualified to walk past a bank's threshold. Some had never even eaten in a restaurant, let alone stepped into a bank.
"Tomorrow, then?" Su Yiyi asked.
"Yeah. Let's get it done as soon as possible," Yang Wendong replied.
"Okay," she said happily.
…
The next day, just before dawn, Yang Wendong set out with Su Yiyi to find the nearest branch of Liu Chong Hing Bank.
Su Yiyi had even put on her best clothes—though they still had patches sewn on them.
They asked around at several shops in the town center before someone pointed them to the right location.
When they finally arrived, they saw a long line of people already waiting outside the bank.
Without knowing the exact procedure, Yang Wendong got in line and asked the man ahead of him, "Big brother, what's the minimum deposit to open an account here?"
"No opening fee," the man replied. "But you need to deposit at least 100 dollars when you open it."
"I see," Yang Wendong nodded, feeling relieved. He had brought 120 dollars with him.
That was everything he had. Before he transmigrated, the original owner of the body had saved up 60 dollars over several years. And after ten days of selling rat traps, Yang Wendong had earned a bit more.
Even after paying for daily vendor fees, food, and wages for his partners, he had about sixty dollars left—totaling 120.
He waited in line patiently, listening to the conversations around him:
"You here to deposit money too?" someone asked.
"Of course—why else would I come to a bank?" another man replied.
"I mean, are you here because they're offering 6% monthly interest?" the first one clarified.
"The newspaper said so, right? It must be true. Besides, look at this line—if it were a scam, wouldn't the people up front be raising hell by now?" someone else chimed in.
Yang Wendong quietly absorbed all the chatter. This was one of the rare times he could gather useful information about the outside world.
Most of the people in line weren't like him. If they could afford to open accounts and deposit savings, they were in a whole different class.
But 6% monthly interest? That was insane. No wonder this bank would later fall victim to a massive run.
After more than an hour, Yang Wendong finally reached the counter. He handed over 100 dollars and his ID. "I'd like to open an account."
"How long will you be depositing for?" the clerk asked.
"No fixed term. Just a regular savings account," Wendong replied.
At that, several people nearby turned and stared at him in surprise.
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