Six months after leaving Thailand, He Mu returned to the country alongside Shan Ge, the General Manager of the Thai company. This time, their goal was to arrange production equipment within the already-constructed factory, with procuring raw materials as the primary objective. Shan Ge was burdened with the mission of operating this colossal enterprise, while He Mu was tagging along to conduct on-the-ground market research and build a network of connections.
"I really can't work anymore!" He Mu exclaimed. That day, the entire factory was using coarse sand to pave a parking area—an American client was coming for a factory inspection tomorrow. Led by Shan Ge, it was an all-hands-on-deck operation. Wheelbarrows, iron shovels, and hoes were all put to use to level an area the size of a football field.
"Don't sit down. Once you sit, you'll go soft," Shan Ge said to He Mu, who had collapsed onto the ground, all while swinging his own hoe.
"Bro, my limbs feel weak, and my stomach is empty!"
"Get up, put in more effort. We'll eat once it's level!" Sweat beaded on Shan Ge's forehead, and his shirt clung tightly to his back.
"With just this moonlight, I can barely see what I'm doing!" He Mu continued making excuses.
"Xiao Wu, bring the lights!" Xiao Wu was a Thai national, a sharp and capable electrician. He called over two female workers, and within ten minutes or so, lights were set up that made the area as bright as day.
"Haha, work hard, everyone. I'll treat you to beer when we're done," Shan Ge said, watching He Mu, who was now running with a wheelbarrow.
At 10 PM (11 PM back in China), the work was finally finished. Everyone admired the neat ground; the clean sand and stones glimmered faintly under the moonlight. A sense of accomplishment filled the air as they laughed and joked, preparing to get in the car to go back for dinner. Only Shan Ge remained, scrutinizing the surface.
"Xiao Jin, Xiao Dou," he called out. "Get seven or eight people together tomorrow morning. Before 8 AM, smooth out this sand and stone. I can still see some bumps and hollows."
"Okay!"
The cook had long since warmed up the food. Everyone ate their fill, but no one had the energy for beer; they all fell asleep as soon as they lay down.
"We'll finish the factory inspection tomorrow morning, then head south in the afternoon to look for materials," Shan Ge said, sharing a room with He Mu.
"How are we getting there?"
"By plane!"
The next afternoon, the two flew to Phuket Airport. The client had booked a hotel right by the roadside. Though small, it was clean, uniquely decorated, and had a swimming pool.
The pool was long. The back door of the first row of rooms opened directly onto it. He Mu swam with enthusiasm while Shan Ge lounged on a deck chair, smoking.
"We have three places to visit tomorrow. Let's try to head back in the evening."
"Your assistant booked our return flight for the day after tomorrow," He Mu reminded him.
"No, we need to go back tomorrow. I've already asked to have the tickets changed."
"Since we rarely come here, shouldn't we take a good look at the market?"
"Visiting three places should be enough. Anyway, there's no way we'd buy materials from here," Shan Ge stated firmly.
"Is it because it's too far?"
"Exactly, it's too far. The time and costs just don't work. If we bought materials from here, we'd lose a fortune."
"So coming here is mainly to understand the market trends and quality?"
"Yes. After you're done swimming, let's go out and find some good food." It was rare for Shan Ge to show interest in finding a culinary treat, and He Mu couldn't help but find it a bit strange.
He Mu and Shan Ge stepped out of the hotel and onto the highway. A continuous stream of large trucks sped past, and motorcycles zipped by in flashes.
"Visiting three places is nothing compared to sitting down in one," Shan Ge said, settling into a spot at a roadside food stall. The owner was a woman in her thirties, looking sharp and efficient.
"Give us four dishes and a bottle of beer!"
The owner stared, wide-eyed.
Shan Ge pulled out his phone to translate. The owner laughed, nodded, and walked off. Over ten minutes later, the food arrived: a Tom Yum soup, a fish in a tin pan—a mix of ingredients stewing with a mandarin fish, the flavor was sour, spicy, with a touch of sweetness, not bad, though Shan Ge found it a bit too spicy. There was also garlic stir-fried morning glory and dried steamed pork. They opened the beer but only had one glass each before deciding to stop.
After their meal, they paid over 500 baht and returned to the hotel, chatting for a while before drifting into a deep sleep.
At noon, the client took them to sample local cuisine. They drove up a winding mountain road for over ten minutes until they reached an open area. Here stood an authentic Thai restaurant; the client had booked an outer table well in advance.
The client's assistant was a Thai girl in her early twenties. She had big eyes, a small face, and was petite but well-proportioned. Her Chinese was excellent—she had studied in Qingdao for four years and was a key asset to the client. Smiling, she helped serve them dishes.
First came a dessert wrapped in pandan leaves—Khanom Chan (actually describes the layered dessert, but the text describes Khao Tom Mad or similar). The leaves were folded into neat, charming, emerald-green squares, encasing sticky rice, coconut milk, and palm sugar. It was soft, fragrant, and sweet. Next was a yellow curry fish, a vibrant yellow color, with tender, smooth fish and a spicy kick. That golden hue, the essence of turmeric, was a feast for the eyes. The Massaman curry was rich in flavor, spicy yet carrying a sweet and savory saltiness, perfectly balanced. The beef and potatoes had stewed into the broth, creating a complex depth of flavor. This was He Mu's favorite; drizzling a little over his rice made it incredibly appetizing.
More dishes arrived, but He Mu was already full. Holding a glass of iced water, he walked to the railing and looked out, his mind clearing and spirits lifting. His eyes feasted on lush rubber forests stretching out before him. A wide river curved into a heart shape, its flow gentle, the water tinged a muddy brown, evoking a faint resemblance to the Yellow River. Utility poles lined the forest paths, and winding trails appeared and disappeared. The restaurant was situated halfway up the mountain; a cool breeze brushed his face, refreshing his spirit.
"I need an assistant like her," Shan Ge said, lost in thought.
"This girl is capable. She speaks precisely, knows when to speak up and when to hold back, is generous, and is skilled in Chinese, English, and Thai, both written and spoken. She's a rare find," He Mu remarked.
"The key is her sense of responsibility and strong professional skills. The dishes she ordered were just right. Look, she packed up the leftover food and even negotiated to return the unfinished drinks with the restaurant. She doesn't talk too much or too little, and she always interjects at crucial moments—that's especially rare," Shan Ge said, his admiration evident. Running the company in Thailand, his primary need was talent, but praising someone so highly was uncommon for him.
"We need to use fewer Chinese people and more Thai nationals and other foreign workers. From what I've observed, although they work slowly, they are meticulous and follow instructions precisely. The products here will definitely be on par with those made in China. I was worried before I came, but now I'm very confident."
"Why use fewer Chinese workers?"
"They have many bad habits, and their salaries are high!"
He Mu countered, "China is a manufacturing powerhouse, built by the efforts of its people!"
"Our people do have the skills, can endure hardship, and can handle tough tasks. However, they also tend to be overly clever, habitually lazy, and often are the first to break the rules, thinking no one will notice. Besides, bringing Chinese workers over now, even general laborers cost about a hundred thousand RMB a year, and that's not including social insurance. They're also demanding and threaten to go back to China at the slightest dissatisfaction. Thai workers are easier to manage, and with social security, their salary is only three or four thousand. Which would you choose?"
"Right, the main advantage here is the cheap labor."
"Yes. So the first step is to phase out Chinese general laborers. The second step is to gradually phase out Chinese grassroots management, train local workers, slowly bring them into management, and eventually achieve full localization."
"Won't local workers gradually develop bad habits too? Coupled with lower efficiency, they might not necessarily be better than Chinese workers, right?"
"Good habits are cultivated through management. We just need to instill good habits beneficial for production management. As for bad habits, 'a leopard can't change its spots'—that's not something we can solve."
"How sustainable is this?"
"Locals practice Buddhism; there are many people inclined towards kindness. Their habits regarding cleanliness and hygiene are excellent, and they follow rules well. Although they are very keen on pursuing profit, it's only for small gains. Their social class structure is relatively fixed, and ordinary people are easily satisfied. In fact, it's quite difficult for them to become 'bad' as you worry. As long as you treat them well, you can coexist peacefully for a long time. In these aspects, it's different from our country."
He Mu thought of some people back home who had given up stable jobs with salaries near 200,000 RMB to start their own businesses. While some succeeded, the vast majority failed. He fell silent, contemplative.
It was late at night when they arrived in Chonburi. Though He Mu hadn't slept enough, he still got up at 6:30 AM. After a quick wash and a hasty breakfast, he headed to the company. The breakfast spread that day included plain rice porridge, vegetable salad, fried peanuts, smashed cucumber salad, scallion pancakes, boiled eggs, fried eggs, spring rolls, and some homemade pickled radish. The food was actually quite good, but He Mu was too tired to savor it.
Arriving at the company, he saw that the Myanmar workers had already gathered. They sat in the canteen, chatting as they ate breakfast, waiting for their shift to start. The Thai staff were tidying up the office, preparing to welcome the new day.
These Myanmar workers, with an average age of 24, were generally of short to medium stature. A meal for them consisted of just a small amount of rice, a few pickled vegetables, a tiny strip of meat, and a pinch of chili powder. Sometimes, lunch might be just a small piece of instant noodles—and they'd eat it with great relish.
One Chinese person's meal could feed three or four of them, yet their eating time was only a fifth of theirs. The Myanmar workers could spend an hour eating, taking a small pinch, or even just a few grains of rice, slowly putting it in their mouths and chewing meticulously. Even more astonishing was that a small ball of rice they had would be half-saved for their dinner after work!
"Coffee, Father!" Several office employees affectionately called Shan Ge "Father"—they used the term out of extreme respect. He Mu was surprised every time he heard it, but he was slowly getting used to it.
"Director He, your black coffee!" He Mu was used to American-style coffee, while Shan Ge preferred cappuccino.
He Mu took a sip of his iced coffee and smiled. "They've made us coffee several times. How should we repay them?"
Shan Ge chuckled. "I often treat them to afternoon snacks. Next time you come, bring more seaweed snacks—they really love them!"
These little buns were thick with butter, covered in pork floss, and wrapped in a layer of seaweed. They were sweet, crispy, fragrant, and smooth, actually quite delicious.
"Alright. I'll remember to bring more for them to try next time I come."
"Today, we need to buy air pipes and office supplies."
(To be continued, next chapter: Measuring Meter by Meter)