CHINESE RULES
Five Timeless Lessons for Succeeding in China
Tim Clissold
William Collins
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This eBook edition first published in Great Britain by William Collins in 2014
Copyright © Tim Clissold 2014
Cover images © Shutterstock
Tim Clissold asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
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Source ISBN: 9780007590285
Ebook Edition © August 2014 ISBN: 9780007590261
Version: 2016-03-02
‘An instant classic’ Time
‘A wonderful read … one might not expect such poetry from a banker’ New York Times
‘It’s got big money, charismatic capitalists, Communist apparatchiks, crime and mysterious disappearances … [but] it’s not just a novel – it’s true’ Telegraph
‘No business history can ever have been such an enjoyable read … any visiting businessman should be obliged to buy a copy’ Chris Patten, the last Governor of Hong Kong
‘harmony’
for Lorraine,
for my brothers Oliver and Max,
and for the memory of Lizzie Hicks
To fight and win a hundred battles is not supreme excellence; the greatest General avoids war and overcomes his adversary without fighting.
THIRD SECTION, SUN TZU’S THE ART OF WAR, c. SIXTH CENTURY BC
I almost didn’t answer the call. I had been gazing absentmindedly out at the hills and the purple splash of heather as the train sped south towards York. But the carriage was almost empty so I took out the phone and clicked on the button. A voice confirmed my name and asked abruptly if I could go to China. Glancing around me, I whispered, ‘I can’t really take a call right now. I’m in the quiet coach, you see.’
‘Well, you’d better call me back right away. Didn’t you get my messages?’ said the voice with a snort. And then the line cut out.
London was still a couple of hours away, so I waited a while as the stone towers on the Minster receded into the distance. The landscape levelled out around York and, farther south, a network of canals stretched out in straight lines towards the horizon; lock gates and brick guardhouses passed by the window. Along the old toll paths, the willows tossed about in the wind, casting long, rolling shadows in the late summer sun. I wandered down to the end of the car and, leaning against the doorway, clicked on the number. The voice that answered immediately launched into a story.
‘Okay, so we’ve got this deal in China,’ she said, ‘and we need your help urgently. There’s this big factory in Zhejiang – you’ve been to Zhejiang of course but maybe not to Quzhou.’
‘Er, yeah, I think I’ve been to Quzhou.’
Another snort. ‘I doubt it, this must be a different Quzhou. It’s miles from anywhere, stuck right out in the middle of the outback, a couple of six-packs from Hangzhou.’