The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943
Chapter 33 : Broadly Advertised

Chapter 33: Chapter 33 : Broadly Advertised

Morning sunlight streamed through the one-foot-square window, piercing the gloom of the basement room. Yellow rays cut across the shadows, occasionally catching a mosquito flitting by.

It was June—humid and stifling. The air was thick with the smell of mold.

Though the damp had given Li Leqin a rash, he had no other choice.

This was the only place he could afford.

Two years ago, when the Pacific War broke out, Li Leqin lost all financial support.

His family back in Jiangsu could no longer send money, and as a self-funded student, government funding wasn’t even an option.

"I just need a job..."

He muttered to himself again, eyes fixed on the newspaper beside him, unable to look away.

There were job ads in the paper, plenty of them—

but how many factories were willing to hire a Chinese engineer?

Even with a degree from New York University, what did it matter?

Watching the sunlight slowly shift across the dark, clammy basement, Li Leqin sighed heavily.

Then he stood, washed up, changed into his best clothes, and practiced his smile in the mirror.

"Hello, my name is Leqin. Li..."

His smile flickered, the bitterness behind it nearly invisible.

Soon, he stepped out of the basement and walked to the street corner, where he spent a few cents on a copy of The New York Times.

As always, he walked and read at the same time.

Then suddenly—an ad caught his eye.

"Karl Metals Company is hiring engineers and laborers of all types. Excellent compensation. For inquiries, call..."

Anyone would be drawn to such a notice—

but what truly stunned him was the fact that it was written in Chinese

As an engineer, Li Leqin instantly recognized the format—it was hand-written, then photographed and printed. After all, no American paper had Chinese printing blocks.

A job ad in Chinese.

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

"My God... this—this was written for us. Just for us..."

The ad spread like wildfire through New York’s Chinese community.

The Chinese circle wasn’t large, and word traveled fast.

Especially among students stranded in the U.S. by the war— whether they were self-funded students forced to drop out due to money issues, or government-funded graduates unable to return home— they all rushed to Karl Metals Company.

To them, this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

When Li Leqin arrived by bus, he saw a huge crowd gathered at the factory gates— the vast majority of them Chinese.

Some spoke Cantonese, others Fujianese or Mandarin, chatting excitedly.

Inside the office building, the corridors were just as packed.

As he stepped inside, Li Leqin spotted familiar faces.

"Wenli!"

"Le’an!"

"Jiade..."

Not only did he run into fellow engineering students, he even bumped into someone from his hometown.

"Jing’an? You’re here too? I thought you studied English literature?"

"Ah, Brother Le’an," Zhao Jing’an adjusted his glasses and said,

"Well, the factory’s this big—they’re bound to need admin staff too, right?"

"Better to work in an office than carry plates in a restaurant!"

"Heh, even plate-carrying jobs are hard to find now.

And who knows—when you’re carrying one, some customer might point at you and yell ’Japs!’"

’Japs’—a slur for Japanese.

"Haha—then you get sent to wash dishes in the back, I guess."

Their casual banter masked a hard truth— for Chinese in America, finding work was a struggle.

You had to be better, smarter, tougher—and still endure discrimination.

"Do you know why this company posted a job ad in Chinese?"

"I heard it was bought by a Chinese businessman.

He only hires Chinese."

"He opened a factory this big in America? That’s incredible! A true pride of our people."

The hallway filled with words of admiration.

They weren’t empty flattery—they were heartfelt.

In these times, a Chinese-owned factory of this size in America was a marvel.

And it didn’t go unnoticed.

That Chinese-language job ad wasn’t just a hiring post—it became news.

Even The Wall Street Journal ran a story about it.

"He acquired a massive factory without spending a cent?"

Song Peilun stared at the paper in astonishment.

"How could a Chinese person pull off such a slick takeover in America—seizing someone else’s business, yet getting praised for his ’bold strategy’ in the press?"

Just then, while eating breakfast, Wang Fuji spoke up:

"Brother Song, clearly you don’t understand how things work here.

To Mr. Karl, that factory wasn’t an asset—it was a burden.

If he’d kept it, it would have dragged him straight to bankruptcy.

"Back during the Great Depression, even millionaires—some billionaires—went under.

Stack up bank interest, property taxes, and maintenance... even the wealthiest couldn’t hold out forever."

Compared to engineering expert Song, economist Wang Fuji understood the American system inside and out.

He’d lived here for fifteen years and lived through the Depression.

He’d seen countless millionaires fall.

"So giving away the factory—land, machines and all—was the smartest choice he could make.

"And that Mr. Li? He didn’t get it for free either.

"If he can’t win orders—if he can’t turn things around— then he might be the next one to go bankrupt."

"So even a ’free gift’ comes with a catch.

One wrong move, and he could lose everything.

Still, what a fascinating case!"

Song Peilun shook his head with a wry smile.

Then suddenly, Wang Fuji seemed to think of something. He looked at Song and said:

"Brother Song—he posted the ad in Chinese, to give our people an opportunity.

Shouldn’t we help him in return?

After all, our company has quite a few orders to place."

"You mean... we give our contracts to him?"

Song Peilun’s brows furrowed as he looked down at the article again.

"But... he has no experience.

Our company’s orders are critical.

If something goes wrong, how will we explain it to the board?"

As the instigator of it all, Pierre had no idea how much impact his Chinese-language job ad would actually cause.

By the time Li Leqin and the others were arriving to apply, Pierre was already on a plane back to London.

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