Many people enjoy writing inspirational stories about climbing the ladder from a junior salesperson to a sales director. But frankly, for those of us in foreign trade from the post-80s and 90s generations, this isn’t some grand script. It’s more a product of our times. After all, many of our peers who truly seized the opportunities of that golden era have long since started their own companies and become bosses. In that context, what does a “Sales Director” title really count for?
So, I don’t want to write a personal success story. What I’d rather write about is what I saw and what changed me during these two decades of witnessing China’s high-speed export growth. That might be more interesting.
Chapter 1: Setting Sail (2005-2011) – Learning to Fly in the Golden Age of Foreign Trade
In 2005, I graduated from university and returned to my hometown, Shunde. This small city, rapidly transformed by urbanization, was shifting from a pastoral landscape of “mulberry-dike fish-ponds” to a nationally renowned production base for home appliances and furniture. It was an era where “if you dared to venture, you could become a boss.”
My goal was clear: as an international trade major, I wanted to be in foreign trade sales.
However, with no experience, I faced constant rejection. My first job, granted by a reluctant boss, was as an order-processing clerk. I was diligent, even if it meant waiting for containers to be loaded until midnight and then cycling 20 minutes home. But a few weeks in, I realized it was a “pseudo-foreign trade” role—all orders came from domestic trading companies. This was a dead end for my ambitions, so I decisively resigned.
My second job, and my true initiation into foreign trade, came rather dramatically. A phone call, a sub-one-minute interview with two questions—“What’s your zodiac sign?” and “What’s your English level?”—and I was hired by a charismatic, feng shui-believing boss, at double my previous salary.
That was my favorite team of all time, bar none.
My mentor, Sister A, was meticulous and taught me from scratch. As computers weren’t widespread then, my typing was slow. I started coming in an hour early every day just to practice. She would patiently correct my emails and teach me how to follow up on orders. Under her guidance, I transitioned from a textbook theorist to a hands-on practitioner.
Foreign trade back then was unbelievably easy. As long as we quoted a price, we could sell the product, even if it wasn’t ours and we had no price advantage. As long as the goods shipped matched the pictures—and you weren’t shipping rocks in the container—customers would reorder. We relied on emails and the occasional fax, and orders just kept rolling in. It truly was the “golden age” of foreign trade.
In that simple, earnest team, we were like family. We ate together, shopped together, and worked overtime together. We were all focused on a single goal, and when we did well, bonuses were generous. The boss trusted us, giving us direction but also freedom, making us feel like we were fighting for our own cause. In just a few years, the company grew from 50 to over 200 people. While the era’s tailwinds were a huge factor, a positive, united team was undoubtedly the key to success.
After five years, I left. I had hit a career ceiling, and the company’s management style hadn’t evolved with its scale. Decline was inevitable. A few years later, it went bankrupt. But that experience, and those people, remain my most cherished memories.
Chapter 2: The Turning Point (2013-Present) – Entering the Packaging Machinery Industry and Witnessing a Corporate “Rashomon”
After a brief two-year stint as a buyer, I realized I preferred the challenge of selling. In 2013, I chose a brand-new field: the packaging machinery industry.
I was drawn in by the recruitment pitch: “We make machines that few in China produce, and our technology is number one in the industry.” I had no relevant experience, but with sheer grit, I passed two rounds of interviews and got the job.
However, what awaited me was a complex and messy situation.
The company was in management turmoil. The new general manager was a close relative of the owner, and his first task was to “clean house” and consolidate control over the sales department. When I joined, the previous sales director had just left. Of the three-person foreign sales team, one had already resigned, and the other two left within three months of my arrival. It was clear I was brought in as a “spare tire” to take over.
If my first job was my “career elementary school,” this job was my “career university.” It was my first deep dive into the harsh realities of office politics. Years later, a similar corporate drama played out when another relative was brought in to take over. The outcome was predictable: the person closest to the ultimate authority wins.
As someone hired by the previous management, my position was awkward from the start. The new leadership later gave me a chance to switch allegiances, but I ignored it. I’ve always believed my value comes from my abilities, not which side I’m on. Rather than getting consumed by internal power struggles, I preferred to focus on developing markets, learning the technology of बहु-सिर वाले तौलने वाले और vertical form-fill-seal (VFFS) machines, एकd the sense of accomplishment from selling each unit.
Hearing a customer say, “Your machine works great,” is what truly makes me happy.
Chapter 3: Charting a New Course (2021-Present) – The Harsh Truths of the “Second Curve”
After leaving that complex company, I joined a machinery parts firm with a stable core business that was looking to develop a new product line. To be honest, I always wanted to get back into selling complete machines too , but opportunities were scarce. I chose this company because the owner’s words intrigued me: “This new project has been stagnant for 10 years. No one can get it off the ground. Want to give it a try?”
A tough nut to crack—it sparked my competitive spirit. More importantly, I confirmed he was an only son, and he had only one son. This, at least, would help me avoid the kind of family infighting I dreaded most.
However, once I dove in, I discovered that behind this “stagnant project” lay several systemic strategic problems.
1. The Misconception of the “Second Curve”
The owner’s thinking was typical: when the main business hits a growth ceiling, open a new product line to find new momentum. It sounds logical. The problem is:
- It’s your new product, not the market’s: Any product already circulating in the market is an “old product.” You’re not entering a blue ocean; you’re diving into a blood-red one.
- A large market ≠ a large opportunity for you: The owner was attracted to the broader audience of the parts market compared to his core business. But a larger market means stronger, more entrenched competitors. Why should a customer abandon their mature suppliers for a newcomer?
This led me to a profound question: When developing a second curve, a company shouldn’t just ask, “Can I make this?” It must first ask, “Why would anyone choose me?”
2. The Absence of Core Competencies
The new project used the same teams from the first product line for technology, procurement, production, and sales. This was a fatal mistake. Expecting maximum returns from minimal investment is a fantasy.
- The Technology Black Hole: The team knew nothing about the new parts—what machines they were used on, their core function, production pitfalls, the pain points of existing market products, or quality testing standards.
- The Capability Mismatch: Asking a team familiar with an old product to tackle a completely new field is not only ineffective but also a waste of resources.
3. A Management Style That Kills Morale
The company’s management style was “zero tolerance”—make a mistake, and you get fined. For a new project that required constant trial and error, this was catastrophic. It directly led to a pervasive mentality of “if I do nothing, I make no mistakes, and I don’t get fined.” Morale plummeted, and the team grew to resent the project.
4. A Lack of Commitment from the Top
The owner wasn’t fully invested in the new project. His main focus remained on the old product line, and his attitude toward the new project’s difficulties was one of ignorance and avoidance. Behind this was a lack of real commitment. If the founder isn’t all-in, how can you expect the team to fight for it?
Although I managed to develop a few new customers from scratch, the project’s foundation was shaky—long lead times, unstable quality, and a limited product range—making it impossible to sustain momentum. I advised the owner: either go all-in or cut our losses. He didn’t agree. Eventually, we parted ways. I had protected his interests in what I believed was the best way possible.
Some Summaries and Reflectionsns**
- On the Evolution of Sales Methods: The foreign trade market began to reshuffle around 2010. In the beginning, simply having an Alibaba Gold Supplier account could bring in money. By 2015, the platform’s dividends had faded, and companies flocked to overseas exhibitions. In 2017, I started experimenting with an independent website (Google SEO). Although I discontinued it due to my lack of technical expertise, the results were promising. To this day, I firmly believe that a combination of “Exhibitions + Independent Website + Proactive Outreach” is the most effective promotion strategy for B2B companies.
- On Workplace and Management: What you see is not always the truth. If you ask me what kind of person I fear most, it’s someone who doesn’t play by the rules. What kind of company do I fear most? A company whose goal isn’t performance. And what kind of family business do I fear most? The kind that openly tears each other apart and seems to enjoy it.
This experience taught me some profound lessons:
- Sales success is fundamentally team success. Without strong product, technical, and logistical support, even the best salesperson is powerless.
- Business is sometimes less about character and more about strategy. Kindness and hard work are important, but without the right strategic direction, all that effort can be for nothing.
There is no perfect company in the world. Over these twenty years, my mindset has become increasingly calm. I’ve learned to accept imperfection and to refuse to be consumed by internal friction. The best way forward is to keep learning, keep growing, and focus on what you can control.
What unforgettable experiences and insights have you gained in your own career? Feel free to share in the comments.
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