Chapter 84: Theories of Environmental Protection

“Mr. Fu, take these bottle designs and apply for patents,” William White said, handing several sketches to Mr. Fu casually.

“Young master, are you planning to change the wine packaging?” Mr. Fu asked, somewhat conflicted.

“No, these are for juice and mineral water. And remember, the material should be glass. Go find a large manufacturing plant.”

“Understood, young master. I’ll arrange for someone to handle it right away.”

Mr. Fu didn’t quite understand. The current trend was all about plastic bottles—why was his young master going against the tide?

William White had no interest in plastic bottles. Not to mention the chemical materials of today couldn’t match future standards, but from a quality standpoint, glass was simply superior.

The only issue was the high transportation and manufacturing costs, which was why beverage factories always looked for alternatives. But William White wasn’t producing cheap products, so those weren’t concerns for him.

The biggest headache in brand promotion was homogenization. American black water could sell decently enough—proof positive of this fact.

In truth, much so-called mineral water was just filtered tap water, with factories adding a little processing. This wasn’t some innovation unique to Chinese businesses; Americans had long been doing the same.

Nestlé was probably the biggest brand in the US, and they stubbornly refused to admit anything otherwise, insisting the water from the public pipes was mineral water.

To be fair, there’s some logic to that. Drinking water resources are, after all, one source for public supply. But bottling it directly is rather shameless.

Texas didn’t have suitable resources for this. Apart from its harsh environment, there wasn’t much to recommend it. Glacier water, though, was a great drinking water, and Montana had plenty. Yet locals barely cared about it.

The only problem was production and transport; that godforsaken place was bitterly cold. If the glass bottles cracked from freezing, it would be a mess.

Mass production wasn’t possible for now. But William believed half a year’s worth of output would be more than enough. Rarity breeds value everywhere; after all, he had no intention of selling cheaply.

America’s wealthy class didn’t care about price. People even bought mineral water studded with Swarovski crystals. That sort of thing was pure pretense—no matter how rich, few would go so far.

Have you ever seen Bill Gates drink such water? Couldn’t he afford it? Don’t be ridiculous. At his level, there was nothing out of reach. But ostentatious displays that provoke envy were simply unnecessary.

Look at these public personas: Buffett’s favorite drink is cherry cola; Bill Gates drives an old Ford. These narratives are carefully crafted. Don’t assume Americans are immune to envy or resentment. That’s human nature, universal across the globe.

William White had no plans to create anything absurd—if mainstream mineral water sold for fifty cents, he’d price his at two dollars. Those selling for dozens or even hundreds were just nonsense; even if someone bought them, the sales would be unimpressive.

Ultimately, all consumer goods depend on volume. Americans have the highest bottled water consumption in the world—a market worth over ten billion dollars, with no shortage of potential.

If luxury couldn’t be the theme, then health and environmental friendliness must be. Environmentalists weren’t yet a dominant force, but they were growing rapidly. William was sure many would voluntarily lend their support.

His take on environmentalism was relative—he had no intention of recycling the bottles, since these needed to be remelted. As for Coca-Cola-style bottle washing and reuse, he dismissed it outright. Those bottles could never be truly clean; if one day you discover a stray straw inside, don’t be surprised—automatic washers can’t guarantee perfection.

Remelting wasn’t exactly eco-friendly either; melting those bottles still required fuel.

Next year would be busy, and he’d need to find a suitable CEO. Otherwise, he’d be in trouble, with no free time to enjoy himself.

The dreary seventies were coming to an end, and this beginning was crucial. America was on the verge of its Iron Age—a time of both hardship and opportunity. Unemployment soared above ten percent, yet it was also the era when industrial upgrades led to decades of economic growth.

Though Christmas was approaching, the legal team didn’t take a break. Since the boss ordered packaging patents, they moved immediately. Lawyers in America were a high-income profession who didn’t care much for holidays; the wealthy could vacation anytime—earning more money was what mattered.

With these matters settled, William White began his rounds. Wearing his cowboy hat, he cut a rather dashing figure.

The husky had gone wild lately, absolutely loving this place.

Man, horse, and dog strolled together in the glow of the setting sun—a somewhat comical sight. If there’d been a beautiful woman present, it would have been much more harmonious.

This was his domain. Whenever he was at the ranch, no matter how busy, he made sure to inspect it personally. Perhaps it was a sense of responsibility, or perhaps nostalgia—the White family hadn’t had it easy. Surviving centuries of trials wasn’t a matter of luck; it was paid for with the blood and toil of his ancestors.

To protect his peace of mind, William White resisted the idea of reincarnation. He preferred to believe it was all a dream, that the images in his memories were nothing more than a pleasant misunderstanding.

It might be self-deception, but it worked—his sleep had improved, and those sudden bouts of anxiety had faded away.

He was just an anomaly, after all. There was no need to bulldoze his way through life; going with the flow was the real wisdom.

This time, his raid on the Hunter family had netted him twelve million dollars in the US alone, with even greater gains in London. With this money, he could afford a little extravagance—no need to be too hard on himself.

He’d already achieved a lot; many would be green with envy. If there were a way to rob him, he’d have been raided by a mob long ago.

“Boss, any plans for Christmas? Let’s go to Hawaii!” Through the phone, William could hear a chorus of girls in the background.

“No way, Jason. Not before summer break. I still have a project here. You guys have fun and come by the ranch when you’re done,” William replied with a wry smile. He couldn’t afford to neglect his game ideas—there was a launch event after the new year.

“All right, we’ll just go for a week. It’ll be packed with beauties this time.”

“Let’s save it for summer—throw a big party then. It really can’t work right now.” He was nearly drooling, but he could only give up.

At heart, William White was still a bit of a fool—he loved to flirt with danger, though after one painful lesson, he’d learned to restrain his restless spirit.

Girls were important, but his money was even more so. If he wanted to earn money while lying down in the future, he had to work hard now.

Miss this chance, and the opportunity would be gone forever. The times now belonged entirely to entrepreneurs; the old guard hadn’t yet caught on. Once they shifted focus from traditional industries, these emerging fields would become far more competitive.