The Rise Of A Billionaire 1943

Once again, Pierre arrived in Havana. The person picking him up at the airport was still Song Bing.

"Pierre."

Unlike before, Song Bing now greeted him with genuine warmth. When had this change started?

Probably a few months ago, after he donated a large amount of military supplies to China. Since then, the way everyone looked at him had changed.

At first, people just thought he was rich. But later?

When the title of "Presidential Envoy" got out, people's gazes became even more complicated.

Envious, respectful... all kinds of looks, with all kinds of motives. Pierre had gotten used to it all.

After getting in the car, Song Bing looked at the man beside her and said,

"Pierre, my father heard you were coming and would like to invite you to our house to discuss the next phase of cooperation."

"Sure, I have something to discuss with Uncle Song as well."

Pierre did indeed have business with Song Chengjun.

After all, now that his storage space had expanded, he could carry even more goods. With the temporary expansion, he could hold over ten thousand cubic meters—enough for ten thousand tons of sugar.

With the supply increasing tenfold at once, he definitely needed to talk it over.

"What? Ten thousand tons!"

Song Chengjun exclaimed in shock.

"If possible, I'd like to deliver forty thousand tons of sugar by the end of the year. Uncle Song, is that a problem?"

"Forty thousand tons, forty thousand tons..."

Song Chengjun rubbed his hands together in excitement and said,

"No problem, no problem at all, Zhiyuan! Even though the Huashang Sugar Mill only produces about thirty thousand tons, there are plenty of small local sugar mills in Cuba. Not to mention forty thousand—even a hundred thousand tons is no problem."

"Then let's make it a hundred thousand tons!"

Pierre straightforwardly raised the stakes.

After all, the war would be over in a year, and these huge profits wouldn't last much longer. Once the war ended and shipping resumed, the price of sugar and similar goods would return to normal.

"A hundred thousand tons!"

Song Chengjun was completely stunned...

How much is a hundred thousand tons?

Currently, Cuba's annual sugar production is only five to six million tons, so a hundred thousand tons is about 2% of the total output!

"What's wrong, Uncle Song? Are you having some difficulties?" Pierre asked in return.

"No, no problem at all. It's just, about the transportation of all this sugar—there won't be any issues, right?" Song Chengjun replied hurriedly.

"Uncle Song, you don't need to worry about that. I'll take care of the transportation. All you need to do is focus on preparing the goods."

"Don't worry, Zhiyuan. I'll definitely get everything ready. I'll also look into whether there's a suitable sugar factory to buy. Actually, quite a few Chinese merchants are interested in buying sugar factories these days. After all, sugar prices are high right now and the profits are considerable."

Hearing that Song Chengjun was thinking of buying a sugar factory, Pierre quickly said, "Uncle Song, the current high sugar prices are entirely due to the war. Because the Japanese have occupied Southeast Asia, it will take a few years for things to recover after the war. Sugar factories will be profitable for the next few years, but it's only a short-term opportunity. Besides…"

As he tried to dissuade Song Chengjun from starting a sugar factory, Pierre naturally thought of the Cuban Revolution more than a decade later. After Castro came to power, what kind of impact would the largely business-oriented Chinese community in Cuba face?

Thinking of this, Pierre raised his eyebrows slightly, pondered for a moment, and then said, "Uncle Song, are you interested in developing somewhere else?"

Song Chengjun asked, "Somewhere else? Do you mean the United States?"

"No, not the United States. I mean Borneo. To be honest, Uncle Song, I bought a piece of land there."

"You bought land?"

Song Chengjun looked at the young man in front of him, puzzled. What did he mean by that?

"Yes, it's not a huge area, just several tens of thousands of square kilometers. Right now, the Japanese are occupying it, but after the war, everything will need rebuilding. There will be plenty of opportunities. Uncle Song, if you're interested in the sugar industry, opening a sugar factory there would be a good choice."

It's the tropics, after all—developing the sugar industry there is only natural. Besides, not only had Song Chengjun helped him so much, but from an investment-attraction perspective, future Borneo would also need investment from overseas Chinese.

Moreover, in Pierre's development plan, a crucial step in the future would be attracting overseas Chinese investment. Although the Japanese occupation caused huge losses for wealthy overseas Chinese business families—some even wiped out entirely—an emaciated camel is still bigger than a horse. If they're willing, investing a few billion dollars in Borneo is entirely possible.

With these investments, rapid industrialization in Borneo would no longer be a fantasy. Of course, most of these investments would be in light industry or tropical plantations, but no matter the industry, they could all absorb labor and settle immigrants, thus promoting economic development.

Furthermore, the overseas Chinese of this era all have certain connections with each other. Whether in Cuba or Southeast Asia, most come from Guangdong or Fujian, forming their own circles, sharing news, supporting each other—and, of course, competing with each other. But after decades of propaganda since the late Qing dynasty, national identity among overseas Chinese has finally surpassed regional identity.

It's entirely possible to start with Song Chengjun and his fellow Cuban Chinese as a catalyst, laying the groundwork for attracting large-scale overseas Chinese investment in the future. Why should the money in the hands of overseas Chinese be wasted on building up various Southeast Asian countries?

The world is only so big, and the pie is only so large. If others take a bigger slice, the Chinese will get less. Let them become Filipino maids instead! After all, when Borneo develops in the future, it will need a large amount of cheap labor.

Filipino maids, Thai maids, Burmese maids—they can all come to Borneo to work as domestic helpers.

As Pierre was envisioning attracting overseas Chinese capital to build up Borneo, he heard Song Chengjun say, "Oh, the Nanyang (Southeast Asia)…"

Suddenly, Song Chengjun exclaimed in shock, "Wait, did you say several tens of thousands of square kilometers? How is that possible? Where exactly are you talking about?"

"The North Borneo Company!" Pierre replied.

"Have you heard of it?"

"Of course I've heard of it—my uncle is in North Borneo. Wait, Zhiyuan, are you saying…?"

Staring wide-eyed at Pierre in disbelief, Song Chengjun said, "Did you buy the North Borneo Company?"

"Yes, that's right!" Pierre nodded.

"So, Uncle Song, are you interested in investing in North Borneo? If you're willing to go…"

"Interested? Of course I'm interested! North Borneo is a great place. But, really, you actually bought it?"

Song Chengjun was still somewhat skeptical. "Why would the British ever sell it?"

"They did. Times have changed, that's all," Pierre replied.

With that, he picked up a cigar from the box on the table, lit it with a lighter, took a slow puff, and savored the aroma as he looked at Song Chengjun, enjoying the look of shock and envy on his face.

This feeling was truly wonderful!