"Jiang, you called me?" Edward Anderson entered the living room, where Jiang Hai was watching TV. To be honest, he was under a lot of pressure.
Of course, this pressure didn't come from Jiang Hai or his subordinates—it came from himself.
No matter what kind of industry one is in, there always seems to be a divide between the sea and the land. This rivalry plays out in many ways, even here with Jiang Hai. While both groups help each other when needed, cowboys and sailors inevitably compare themselves, especially when it comes to earnings.
Jiang Hai's wages were already generous—far higher than those of ordinary sailors and cowboys. But the real point of comparison lay in the profits.
Logically speaking, fishing should be more lucrative than ranching. After all, the sea occupies a much larger area. In Jiang Hai's case, his marine territory was over ten times the size of his land, which meant it should be producing at least twice or thrice the revenue. Initially, Edward Anderson wasn't too concerned about this because he understood the profitability of aquaculture.
For instance, raising codfish was highly profitable. A single pound of cod sold for around ten cents, and an average cod weighed about two pounds. Raising 10 million fish could yield 20 million pounds of cod annually, bringing in 16 million dollars. After deducting labor and feed costs—around 2 million—and taxes, the net profit was still about 7 million dollars.
By contrast, cattle ranching had slimmer margins. Buying a cow cost $4,000, and selling it fetched $5,000. After factoring in labor, feed, and transportation, the net profit per cow barely exceeded $100. Even with 10,000 cows, the total profit was just $1 million. To match the earnings from fishing, Jiang Hai would need 70,000 cattle—an impossible number for his farm.
So, by common sense, fishing should have been the clear winner. But no one had expected Jiang Hai's cattle to be so extraordinary.
Twenty thousand head of cattle were worth over 3 billion yuan. This put tremendous pressure on Edward Anderson, who feared that Jiang Hai might abandon fish farming after seeing the immense land-based profits. Fortunately, Jiang Hai had no such plans.
Recently, he had introduced a species of fish from China called the Yellowstone rockfish. To Edward, it looked no different from American redfish and tasted about the same. But for some reason, in China, this fish sold for a staggering $200 per kilogram.
"The Chinese are too rich," Edward mused. "Spending $200 on a fish—does it make them immortal?"
Still, he remained dedicated to the project, eagerly awaiting the first batch of fish to mature. Despite his commitment, he couldn't shake a sense of unease when looking at Jiang Hai.
"Hey, Uncle Edward, come here. I have an order for you—make sure it's ready before 3 p.m. tomorrow." Jiang Hai pulled him to the sofa and handed over a handwritten order.
"An order?" Edward was momentarily stunned. Orders were usually good news, but the fish hadn't matured yet. Was Jiang Hai selling fish fry?
However, when Edward read the list, his expression shifted. This order had nothing to do with fish.
"Four lobsters over 15 kilograms, 17 kilograms of abalone, and 20 kilograms of sea cucumbers? Jiang, what do you need all this for?" he asked in confusion.
"It's for sale. There's a tour group in town, and they placed this order." Jiang Hai grinned. This group was essentially his "God of Wealth," and he intended to treat them well.
"Oh, I see. But this isn't a large order. How much can you make from it?" Edward scratched his head, unimpressed by the quantities.
Jiang Hai chuckled. "How much? Well, I sold the four lobsters for $12,000, the abalone for $2,550, and the sea cucumbers for $2,000."
"Why are these things so expensive?" Edward exclaimed. Americans rarely ate sea cucumbers or abalone. Selling these two alone for $5,000 was shocking.
As for the lobsters, he didn't even bother to comment. While it was rare to see 15-kilogram lobsters, they weren't unheard of. Normally, such lobsters sold for just over $1,000 to fishermen. Jiang Hai had doubled the price—and still found a buyer.
What Edward didn't know was that even at double the price, Jiang Hai's seafood was four times cheaper than in China. To the tour group, this was an irresistible deal.
"This is just the first batch. Once our lobsters, abalone, and sea cucumbers gain fame, more Chinese tour groups will come. This group has only 47 people now, but imagine if it were 470, 4,700, or even 47,000? Our revenue would multiply a hundredfold." Jiang Hai spoke with confidence.
Winthrop was no luxury destination, but compared to ordinary resorts, it had charm. Most importantly, it was cost-effective. Jiang Hai believed that once these tourists returned home, they would spread the word, making Winthrop a popular destination.
"I understand," Edward nodded. It was clear that Jiang Hai was thinking far ahead.
The next day, when Jiang Hai delivered the goods, he unexpectedly received another order. It seemed that affluent Chinese travelers had money to burn.
He also noticed that many older visitors had taken an interest in fishing. Initially, he was nervous when no one participated, but by the second day, the fishing spots were packed. Many middle-aged Chinese men were serious about fishing, preferring the challenge of catching wild fish over stocked ponds. The local rivers and seas, full of large fish, were perfect for them. Even Director Liu, who had spoken with Jiang Hai the day before, caught a 30-kilogram carp.
As time passed, the town's residents began to smile more. Like Jiang Hai had predicted, these 47 tourists weren't as important as the word-of-mouth marketing they would generate.
Even without future arrivals, their spending alone surprised the town. On their first day, they spent thousands of dollars at the horse ranch, much to the delight of Old George. Over five days, his ranch earned a total of $270,000. Since his only expenses were time and horse maintenance, his net profit exceeded $2,000.
The shooting range was the second most profitable attraction, earning $7,235 in five days. After expenses and taxes, the net profit was over $3,000, of which Jiang Hai got a share as the investor.
The third biggest moneymaker was the commercial street. On the fifth day, without any prompting, the tourists flocked to buy souvenirs. When they saw high-quality American ginseng selling for just a few hundred dollars, pure maple syrup for $10, and handmade crafts for a few dollars, a buying frenzy erupted.
That day alone, the commercial street made over $40,000. After deducting expenses, each shop owner pocketed thousands. Those who had initially doubted the potential of Chinese tourism were now celebrating. Meanwhile, those who hadn't participated were filled with regret, having missed a golden opportunity.
But they wouldn't make the same mistake again. As they assessed what the town still lacked, they realized one major shortcoming: there was no hotel. Until now, Winthrop had no need for one. But with tourists pouring in, accommodations were in high demand. Aside from Jiang Hai's villa area, only a run-down inn was available. Local homes had become the only lodging option.
Although they missed out on the first wave, they were determined to be ready for the second.
No one had expected that, after Winthrop's initial development, a second wave of growth would come so soon.
As for Jiang Hai, he was already preparing for the next step—even before the first batch of tourists had left.
To be continued...