National Tide 1980.

1990 12 Month 22 Day.

This day is both a Saturday and the Winter Solstice, one of the twenty-four solar terms in Chinese astrology.

At this moment, as it is already the end of the year, the Shinjuku Gyoen National Garden in Tokyo has already been decorated with lights to celebrate Christmas and the New Year.

As is customary in previous years, Japanese people living in Tokyo should have already begun preparing for the New Year.

However, despite the neon lights still flashing in Tokyo, they cannot illuminate the gloom that gathers between the brows of the Japanese people.

Even with the major department stores and supermarkets putting in a lot of effort to organize events and promotions, it is still difficult to get Japanese people to willingly open their wallets and happily spend money.

In fact, according to Japanese media reports, the side effects of the bursting of the economic bubble and the implementation of the consumption tax have greatly suppressed the Japanese people's willingness to consume.

What used to be the most profitable year-end for businesses has become a complete economic winter this year.

Whether it's the department store retail industry or the catering industry, sales figures are extremely dismal.

According to multiple Japanese media reports, the luxury goods counters at Mitsukoshi Department Store in Ginza, Japan, remained deserted at the end of the year, with 3 billion yen worth of merchandise facing unsold inventory. Some stores specializing in kimonos also began large-scale layoffs due to a sharp decline in sales.

The Japanese outbound tourism market has completely collapsed.

Compared to the end of last year, the proportion of outbound travel bookings has decreased by 81% year-on-year.

Moreover, even the ski resorts in Hokkaido, Japan, are no longer attracting visitors.

Normally, Hokkaido, as Japan's most famous ski resort, should be packed with ski enthusiasts at this time of year.

Even in Niseko, a region famous for its sparkling powder snow, there are still only a few local tourists.

It can be said that Japan is experiencing its quietest peak season for business.

However, amidst such a severe economic situation, a street corner in Tokyo's Ikebukuro district stands out from the general economic trend, radiating a commercial energy that seems completely out of place with its surroundings, making it all the more peculiar.

For no other reason than that Ning Weimin, the president of the Mainland Compatriots Mutual Aid Association, has made new business moves because of Matsumoto Keiko's Chinese husband, who rarely appears in public.

On this day, he chose to shock the entire Chinese community in Tokyo with two weighty "New Year's gifts".

It turns out that in addition to the launch of the Tokyo Life magazine, the exclusive publication of the Mainland Compatriots Mutual Aid Association, Ning Weimin's company, Da Dao Trading Co., Ltd., also began business expansion and added two new members.

One is Da Dao Wu Chan, which specializes in Chinese food products, and the other is Da Dao Wu, which focuses on second-hand household goods.

These two stores, subsidiaries of the Da Dao Trading Company, grandly opened their doors in this area ravaged by a wave of shop closures, occupying half the ground floor of a building.

It should be noted that this is not merely a simple business expansion, nor is it simply a pleasant surprise brought about by Ning Weimin, as the president of the mutual aid association, providing shelter and protection for his fellow citizens.

It is also a strong guarantee for all members of the mutual aid society to achieve a better life in Tokyo in the future, and a new root for these foreign gold seekers to take root in a foreign land.

As store manager Song Guanghui stated on behalf of Ning Weimin in his speech, the initial motivation for opening this store stemmed primarily from the growing demand from mainland compatriots in the area. We hope to make it easy for overseas Chinese to buy products from their hometown and alleviate their homesickness. At the same time, we also want to promote authentic Chinese food culture to Japanese customers, allowing more people to understand the stories behind the flavors of China. This is not just a store, but a small world where everyone can find the taste of home, rediscover fond memories, share the joy of life, and enhance cultural understanding.

…………

The opening ceremonies for both stores were held at 10:00 AM.

All speeches were limited to ten minutes, and the store opened to the public at 10:10 AM, officially commencing operations.

Exiting from the north exit of JR Ikebukuro Station, you can see the rows of shops packed with people just three blocks away.

At first glance, the row of shops looks like a striking red ribbon.

The wreaths in front of the door were so densely packed that they stretched from the edge of the sidewalk all the way to the traffic light at the corner, taking up half of the sidewalk.

The most eye-catching items were several silver wreaths, each taller than a person, with the inscriptions "Congratulations from Shochiku Film Co., Ltd." and "Congratulations from TBS Television."

Next to him were gold wreaths presented by Yu Miura, Ken Utsui, Teresa Teng, Keiko Matsumoto, Yoshiko Ishida, and others.

Just from these names, one can tell that the Chinese owners of these two stores must have close ties with the Japanese entertainment industry.

That's not all; companies with close ties to Ning Weimin have also expressed their views.

Representatives from Sumitomo Bank and Changxin Bank presented gilded congratulatory plaques, while EIE Group, Hanwa Kogyo, and Fuji Television also sent wreaths personally signed by important figures.

The wreaths presented by the Chinese community, not to mention the related companies under Ning Weimin's own name.

From mainland Chinese official agencies stationed in Japan to the local overseas Chinese association in Tokyo, from Pierre Carton Japan Co., Ltd. to Li Xiaojiang's intermediary company, the number of wreaths sent was almost twice that of those Japanese companies, and the Chinese characters written in calligraphy on the red silk of those wreaths all exuded the cohesive power of hometown sentiment.

It must be said that although the wreaths used for weddings in Japan are very similar to the wreaths used for funerals in China, it makes compatriots from the mainland feel somewhat awkward.

The problem is that when enough wreaths are delivered, and they are of good enough quality, they still look quite spectacular when all of them are placed together.

It certainly adds to the atmosphere and attracts crowds.

Even though Ning Weimin deliberately kept a low profile, did not personally appear, did not have any of his wife's artists attend, and only had two store managers he hired and a representative of the mutual aid association give a few simple speeches at the opening ceremony, without arranging any performances, the lavish display of flowers still immediately achieved the effect of attracting widespread attention as an advertisement.

The two stores showed signs of booming business even though it was only late at night.

An elderly Chinese man in a Zhongshan suit stopped in front of the shop with a cane. A young mother pushing a stroller stopped to look around. Shop owners from nearby shops also came with their employees to join in the fun. Some foreign tourists took photos with their cameras. Couples and young couples who were out for the weekend also flocked over in groups of three or five to see what was going on.

Even the Japanese police officers patrolling the area slowed down, stood at a distance, and carefully glanced into the store.

But most people were still holding their first copy of "Tokyo Life," members from the Mainland Compatriots Mutual Aid Association who came specifically to support or help based on the advertisements in the newspaper.

In short, the crowds that came to join the fun stretched from the store entrance all the way to the subway station.

The sounds of talking, laughter, and children crying mingled together, completely washing away the bleakness of the economic downturn.

As soon as the opening ceremony ended, ribbons flew and applause thundered. The onlookers could no longer contain their curiosity and flocked into the two stores, beginning their shopping experiences with great anticipation and curiosity.

Needless to say, the first thing that makes a person's impression upon entering the store is its interior decoration and layout.

According to most people's thinking, Ikebukuro is the core business district of Toshima Ward in Tokyo. Along with Shinjuku and Shibuya, it is one of Tokyo's emerging bustling districts, with a daily foot traffic of up to one million people. The rent here must be very expensive, so opening a store here must be a very stylish boutique.

Even if it's not the most luxurious kind, it's definitely more refined than the average store.

However, to everyone's surprise, those who had this idea were stunned when they entered the store and realized that their idea was completely wrong.

The decor of both stores goes far beyond "minimalist"; it's as if they were practically devoid of any decoration at all. Both stores are identical: everywhere you look, besides densely packed shelves and counters, there are only posters advertising special offers and announcements of opening promotions—nothing else of style or decor.

The ceiling is a typical square grid ceiling, the lighting is provided by fluorescent lamps, and the floor is covered with the most ordinary floor tiles.

By any measure, it's not much more upscale than a convenience store or a regular grocery store.

When it comes to product display, it's even simpler. In the food section, there are rows of painted metal shelves, while the fast food area has the cheapest plastic tables and chairs.

Although there are many freezers storing refrigerated food and beverages, they are obviously old.

Daikichi, which sells daily necessities, is even more direct; you can even tell that the shelves are made of recycled wooden planks.

The main selling point is sturdiness and durability, and the goods are neatly arranged by category.

But it doesn't look very nice. It doesn't look like a regular store at all; it looks more like a large warehouse.

The only bright spots in both stores are the colorful neon lights inside and outside the stores.

The words "Da Dao Wu Chan" (大刀物产) and "Da Dao Wu" (大刀屋) are displayed in eye-catching fonts, and the neon signs with red backgrounds and white lettering are particularly striking.

The ubiquitous "bargain" sign, along with various neon-lit merchandise, enriches the visual experience and creates a lively atmosphere even during the day.

And you know what? "Geikan" means "super cheap" in Japanese, which is exactly what the store means.

Judging from the decoration style alone, these two stores seem to have taken the concept of "decoration" to its extreme.

Why are these two stores so shabby?
The owners of these two shops are incredibly stingy!

For most Japanese customers, the interior design of these two stores would undoubtedly be considered extremely "low-class," and compared to the cool and sophisticated closed-off atmosphere of Tokyo's upscale supermarkets, they are simply incredibly tacky.

Entering the door feels like being hit on the head with a blow, inevitably causing regret, contempt, and dissatisfaction.

Like several well-dressed housewives who, upon entering, immediately felt the urge to leave and regretted coming in.

One of them covered his mouth with a handkerchief and whispered to his companion, "What kind of store is this? There isn't even a crystal chandelier, and the walls are so white they look like a hospital. It's so cheap."

The other frowned and grimaced at the plastic tables and chairs, saying, "I would never buy anything in a place like this, let alone eat anything there. It would be embarrassing if word got out."

Some of them even harbored resentment because they knew the people in the area well enough.

Like the owner of the bathhouse next door.

The owner, Sato, who was wearing a gray men's kimono, had actually heard a month earlier that the Suzuki General Store, which had gone bankrupt, had been taken over by Chinese people.

Upon hearing the news, he scoffed and said, "Foolish Chinese people, actually opening a shop at a time like this! Even we Japanese can't keep it going, do they really think they can make money? It definitely won't last long."

When he arrived here today, he was shocked by what he saw outside, because the scene was much larger than he had imagined. These two shops had practically rented out all the shops on the ground floor of the building.

In his memory, Chinese people either ran small, hole-in-the-wall restaurants or set up street stalls; he had never seen such a large-scale shop.

When he entered the store, he was so angry at the low-quality and vulgar decor that he almost lost his temper.

He was convinced from the outset that the owners of the two shops were complete idiots who couldn't do business at all.

Not only are they brainless, they also lack ability.

If someone like that were to open a shop here, it would not only be a waste of such a good shop, but it would also lower the customer base and have a negative impact on the business of other nearby shops.

So he didn't even glance at the items on the shelves, and became a "hater" of these two shops, wishing they would go out of business as soon as possible so that all Chinese people would stay away from them.

However, given that these Japanese are mediocre and struggling with Japan's economic difficulties, how could they possibly understand Ning Weimin's schemes?

In fact, Ning Weimin had his own calculations in choosing the location of the store in Ikebukuro and in decorating the store like this.

It may seem like a chaotic and haphazard approach, but in reality, every step has its own logic.

Moreover, there is no contradiction between the location and the decoration style.

It's important to know that while rents are high in Ikebukuro, it's also close to several universities, including Waseda University and Tokyo University of Foreign Studies, as well as numerous language schools. There are tens of thousands of international students in the area alone, not to mention the densely populated Chinese communities nearby.

Most members of the Mainland Compatriots Mutual Aid Association spend their days in the Ikebukuro and Shinjuku suburbs, passing each other by.

Moreover, it happened to coincide with the Japanese economic downturn, and more than a dozen shops in this core commercial area had already gone out of business. It was only by chance that he was able to take advantage of the opportunity to rent out half of the shops on the ground floor of the building.

Afterwards, by breaking down the partition walls and connecting them into a whole area, a certain scale effect can be achieved, and the rent can be reduced by leveraging the scale effect. Why not do it?

Therefore, Ning Weimin chose this location for his store for at least two reasons.

Firstly, it's convenient for students studying in Japan; secondly, the shop is located in a popular area, so there's no worry about customer traffic.

As for decorating like this, of course there are advantages to it as well.

Firstly, it saves time, allowing for earlier opening and operation; secondly, it reduces investment costs, maintaining a price advantage.

To put it bluntly, this is something that Ning Weimin, the person in the world most capable of determining the future of Japan's national destiny and economic situation, is very concerned about.

He originally intended to be a "price killer," planning to make a quick buck by selling cheap goods at low prices, thus benefiting members of the mainland Chinese association while also opening the wallets of Japanese customers and profiting from their reduced spending.

From a certain perspective, Ning Weimin is actually the one who is "clear-headed".

He understood market positioning from the start and clearly saw the downward trend of the Japanese economy. He focused on the consumer demand of various groups seeking practical benefits and saving money during the economic downturn.

That's why he used these two stores to preemptively address Japan's "wealth gap".

Moreover, Chinese people are the experts and have the most say in this business model. Back then, the time-honored brand Ruifuxiang in Beijing relied on this skill to grow bigger and bigger in the chaotic world of the late Qing Dynasty and the Republic of China.

The term "蚨" refers to a small flying insect that can carry small change; the name itself reveals the merchant's business philosophy.

Since we already have successful precedents, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that we invented this business model.

Therefore, we can naturally learn from their experience, and we can clearly conclude that shops in bustling city centers do not necessarily have to be high-end.

A shop located in a bustling area and the goal of reducing costs and increasing efficiency are not inherently contradictory. (End of Chapter)