Chapter 80: The Severely Deficit-Ridden Farm

The husky inside the airline crate was obviously displeased; William White spent quite some time soothing the creature before it finally settled down. This was just a short trip—if they were flying to New York, the dog would surely go mad.

A dozen hefty pickup trucks barreled out of the airport. Texans, accustomed to such scenes, paid no mind to the identity of the passenger.

Back on his own turf, William’s spirits lifted; as long as an American landowner had money, life was truly comfortable.

Farmers at this time were precisely like this: as long as you weren’t too entangled with the banks, the state of the economy didn’t matter much.

Agricultural products unsold? Simply produce less, and prices would soon recover. Most Texas farms were focused on livestock, while the grape and fruit growers suffered more—if their produce couldn’t be sold, trouble ensued, and one couldn’t simply destroy the fruit trees.

The most troublesome thing was that business was bleak, yet the price of fruit picking hadn’t dropped at all.

That’s America for you—even in the worst economic climate, the cost of labor remains high.

If you tried to launch a Chinese-style e-commerce platform here, it would flop—their transport costs are simply outrageous.

Why did Amazon succeed? Just look at the price of a single order: if you buy something for a few dollars, the shipping fee is often higher than the product itself, and only a fool would buy online.

American courier services have been around for years, but are they as efficient as China’s?

If Americans tried to hold a shopping festival akin to Double Eleven, forget matching China’s order volume—even at thirty percent, they’d be overwhelmed, and completing all orders might take a year.

In this respect, America and China are worlds apart. The more orders, the better in China—they wish every shirt sold a million units, and the price would crush competitors.

Courier logistics are the same—just hire more people, and with the cost of sending packages so low, you could send a thousand in a day if you were capable.

America can’t do that; if volume exceeds the usual by ten percent, workers go on strike, and raising wages won’t help—they simply refuse to work overtime.

This year, White Farm’s grape harvest was tremendous; the wine cellar was bursting at the seams. To accommodate the surplus wine, they expanded the cellar once more.

Based on the wine sold this year, it would take ten years to clear the stock, yet the White Winery showed no sign of worry—in fact, they were expanding their vineyards further.

The most astonishing thing was that prices had even crept up a bit. They bought up surplus grapes from neighboring farms, blindly enlarging their production scale.

White Winery not only expanded the factory but also hired two skilled winemakers, and according to their latest plans, next year they might launch a grape juice project.

For the local economy, this was quite significant. Most brands in Texas are regional—outside their area, no one recognizes them. William White’s blueprint was clearly to establish a national brand.

At this time, carbonated drinks were the rage; as living standards improved, natural fruit juices would gradually gain ground—a slow, steady process.

Building a brand is never a sprint. William White, so young, had plenty of time to maneuver.

In this world, food, clothing, housing, and transportation are eternal themes; in any era, these are the most profitable businesses.

America is a consumer society—this is especially evident. Perhaps housing is slightly lacking, but everything else is quite decent.

Investing in residential property in America is troublesome. Property taxes are a major issue, and if you encounter an unreliable tenant, losses can be considerable.

Tenants who can’t pay rent on time must be dealt with legally; you absolutely cannot throw them out onto the street.

Relatively speaking, high-end housing doesn’t have this problem.

The issue is, it’s not cost-effective—currently, the investment ratio is ten to one, meaning ten years of rental income can buy you a house outright.

The international standard is that if the ratio is below ten, it’s worth investing—this is excellent return. The thirty to fifty times ratios seen in China are beyond comprehension.

Before 1999, Shanghai was close to this number. Unfortunately, experts misled people back then; otherwise, one could be making money effortlessly now, without the hard work of writing!

But I digress.

Although wine is an alcoholic beverage, at its core, it’s not much different from grape juice—Americans treat it as a drink.

William White’s first task was to establish a health concept: grapes have excellent antioxidant properties and can help with allergies—though this refers to grape seeds or skins, not the flesh.

But this isn’t critical; juice extraction doesn’t remove the seeds, so you get both anti-aging benefits and relief from allergies. For families with better means, drinking grape juice is clearly superior to drinking cola.

You cannot, however, campaign against cola—it's a cultural icon in America, found around the globe, and criticizing it recklessly is unwise.

Especially since William White intends to preempt Warren Buffett—he’ll be a Coca-Cola shareholder one day, so there’s no need to rob his own pocketbook.

Selling juice will never surpass selling cola; no matter how healthy, it doesn’t matter. His real target is the Great Lakes Apple Juice—those juices sell quite well.

Both are juice drinks; surely he can carve out a piece of the market.

Texas farms are vast, but the land is relatively poor, not nearly as suitable for grazing as Australia.

Yet there are many advantages—the first being transportation. In nearby big cities, beef from other regions stands little chance.

Agriculture, in any country, is protected—not to mention subsidies and tax breaks, imports are subject to tariffs, and if domestic farmers stir up trouble, there’s always quality inspections.

The world’s most expensive beef is wagyu.

Believe it or not, the Japanese really know how to make money—their beef is several times pricier than others, which is outrageous.

Don’t assume they’re obsessed with gourmet food; many Japanese have never tasted wagyu. This beef has been transformed into a luxury item, purely for profit.

Even in a country with large regions, they can’t produce enough feed; most is imported from Australia.

Despite lacking land and pasture, Japan still manages to be a major agricultural exporter—a testament to their shrewdness.

As for taste, it’s genuinely good, but for Americans, perhaps just a bit more tender. Especially in Texas, the difference isn’t so pronounced.

Texans' eating habits are wild—the quarter-rare preparation is almost raw.

In my opinion, with such a savage approach, beef from anywhere tastes the same—the key is freshness. Wagyu is always frozen, so it can’t match the freshness of Texan beef.

A standard Texas steak could satisfy three Japanese diners. If you sent a Texan to Japan for steak, his first reaction wouldn’t be about taste—it would absolutely be that he didn’t get enough to eat.