The Yihetuan, a small movement born in the rural fields of Shandong Province, had grown into a global phenomenon within a few short years. The eyes of the world were now fixated on it—not out of admiration, but on the faltering Qing Dynasty left to clean up its wake. The nations salivated at the prospect of intervention.
Fatalities among foreign missionaries in Qing territories were escalating sharply, each death an unspoken cry for action. The armies of the great powers were preparing to mobilize under the noble pretext of protecting not only innocent religious emissaries but also the beleaguered citizens of the Qing. It was a cause so righteous, no one could deny its justification.
In Beijing, the assembly of nations was underway. It was as if eight titans, wielding the combined strength of the world, had converged upon the city. Though the troops themselves were limited in number, the sheer diplomatic and symbolic might of the gathering was unrivaled.
As the forces of the great powers converged, one individual saw an extraordinary opportunity amidst the chaos.
"Eight nations, a minimum of 30,000 troops, possibly up to 60,000. A chance won't come again," he thought, his eyes gleaming with ambition.
His plan was audacious: distribute samples of their products to these eight wealthy nations. Immediate profit was secondary; the goal was visibility—introducing their enterprise to the militaries of the world.
"Of course, weapons are off-limits," he mused. "No need to invite trouble by tempting them to ransack our factories."
The man knew the future of Asia would see a growing military presence, not a shrinking one. The entire world was his potential customer base. With this vision in mind, he devised a bold strategy to offer free military supplies to the forces suppressing the Yihetuan uprising.
Naturally, not everyone supported his plan. Even his father had voiced opposition, arguing that the losses would be far too great. And his father was not wrong.
In business, identifying the right customers was paramount. Targeting a specific audience and tailoring services to them was a fundamental principle. Yet, he differed from his peers in his perspective: he saw the entire world as his clientele.
"It would be foolish to limit ourselves," he reasoned. "A British company serving only the British army would lose 90% of its potential customers. A more shortsighted choice could hardly be made."
He envisioned their company, Jinhan, becoming the first name that came to mind whenever the nations needed supplies. This free military supply operation was a step toward making that vision a reality.
"We'll provide military supplies of this scale for free. This is who we are—this is what we can do!"
Of course, not everything could be offered without cost. But by selectively providing standout products, they would ensure the armies had no choice but to rely on them. Logistics was, and always had been, the military's Achilles' heel. Transporting supplies from the homeland was a grueling task, and Jinhan had flourished precisely because it excelled at addressing these pain points. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ novel⟡fire.net
In the boardroom, surrounded by his top executives, he began the final preparations.
"How many military tents have we prepared?" he asked.
"Four thousand four-person tents are ready. Loading will be completed tonight, and the ship will set sail at dawn," one executive replied.
For soldiers on a campaign, shelter was paramount. He knew firsthand, as a military veteran himself, how critical waterproofing was for a tent. Once soldiers experienced their advanced tents, they would refuse to settle for primitive alternatives.
"Have we received responses from the embassies?"
"Yes, most claimed they would rely on their own supplies. However, some agreed to accept partial support."
Through the consulates and embassies stationed in Hong Kong, he had reached out to offer free supplies. While nations with existing trade relations eagerly accepted, others were more skeptical.
"They're probably wondering if trusting us will leave them unprepared in a crisis," he thought with a smirk.
Their doubts were natural. Fortunately, the British army, stationed in Hong Kong, had already confirmed they would receive supplies for 915 soldiers, a detail he ensured was shared with the other nations. Reassured by Britain's endorsement, the other nations began to shift their stance.
"Fine, we'll take it. After all, it's free," they concluded.
He made a mental note to reward the British for their cooperation after this publicity push was complete.
"We must be meticulous," he reminded his team. "Free support doesn't mean we can compromise on quality. This needs to be our best effort yet."
"Yes, sir," they responded in unison.
Even Kim Seong-han, the staunchest opponent of the initiative, had finally conceded. The decision was made, and now all he could do was hope it succeeded. Despite their outward compliance, he knew most of the company quietly opposed his bold move. But he didn't mind. Leadership was about vision.
"Sir, the Japanese army is scheduled to land in Tianjin tomorrow. What are your orders regarding them?" an executive asked.
"They're not our clients," he replied curtly.
Japan, among the eight allied nations, was the sole exception.
"This isn't personal. They simply don't need us as customers."
"But Japan has the largest military contingent," the youngest executive, Jonathan, pointed out, confusion evident on his face.
"We provide what the homeland cannot. That's our value. But Japan, being so close to the Qing, doesn't face the same logistical challenges as Britain or Germany. Moreover, they have a cultural aversion to foreign goods."
Japan, still dominated by nationalist pride over economic efficiency, was not a viable customer base.
"Our products—sleeping bags, tents, military rations—must outshine everything else on the market. Free isn't good enough. It must be better despite being free."
"Understood," the team affirmed.
After the meeting, Siu-rin remained behind to deliver the final financial report.
"The estimated loss, based on production costs, is $90,000. Factoring in market prices, the projected loss is $240,000."
The losses were staggering—$80,000 in cash and an estimated $220,000 in total when transport and opportunity costs were excluded. The numbers weighed heavily on Jinhan's leadership.