The Story Behind Xiuhui Precision

Xiuhui Precision officially started operating in the second half of 2024. At the time, two shareholders decided to do one thing together: build a die casting plant with some character — one that could coexist harmoniously with its customers, its employees and its suppliers.

“Partnerships never work” is a line that many people who have been in one like to repeat. Our two shareholders — Mr. Guo and Mr. Zhao — refused to believe it. They both agreed that a partnership falling apart looks like a fight over money (human selfishness), but the real cause sits deeper: the outlook and fit of the partners themselves. A partnership is not impossible — it depends on whether the two people suit each other, and whether they can push each other and cover each other’s gaps.

A Less-Than-Warm First Meeting

The two first met, as far as we can reconstruct, about a year and a half before they decided to go into business together. It was not a warm meeting — at least not an enthusiastic one — and it happened by chance on a particular occasion. Guo thought Zhao was quiet, and perhaps a little condescending. Zhao had rarely dealt with people from manufacturing, had nothing much to talk about, and had never once looked down on anyone. The story gets retold often, usually with a laugh at their expense.

A few months later, Zhao put together an aluminum die casting plant. There was spare floor space, so Guo rented part of it to set up his own factory. At that point Zhao’s plan was to go back to his old profession once the new plant was running; Guo had spent more than 20 years in die casting, had always run plants for other people, and now intended to finally work for himself. So the two met again. People who make a lukewarm first impression often turn out to be the ones you work with most deeply and stay friends with longest; those who hit it off immediately sometimes end up as enemies. Life is strange that way.

The “Pillar” and a Negotiation That Failed

Zhao’s plan did not go nearly as smoothly as he had imagined. The plant’s “pillar” — its core production manager — turned out to be someone who did not take responsibility. Problems went unsolved. Classic ostrich behaviour: other people’s money was not treated as money. Zhao came from a finance background, holds a CPA and a legal qualification, and had spent years at established financial institutions — he had never seen anything like it. There was no choice but to work it out himself: if you don’t know how, find someone who does; when a problem appears, analyse the cause and find a countermeasure. He figured die casting was not exactly high technology, and he carried a strong unwillingness to lose.

Because Guo had spent 20-plus years in die casting and worked in the same building, Zhao naturally turned to him for advice, and the two grew closer. Once you understand someone’s character, skills and strengths, your impression of them changes quickly. But with the “pillar” still doing nothing, and Zhao not a manufacturing man by training, firefighting was possible — the long run was guaranteed to keep losing money.

Watching the company lose money with no sign of improvement, Zhao concluded that the orders were there and the niche was workable; the only real problem was that the “pillar” could not solve problems (either his ability did not match, or his attitude did not). Applying what he called “extreme rationality”, Zhao decided the company had no future with this man in place. Based on his respect for Guo’s skill and character, he came up with a bold idea: go to the investor, remove the “pillar” from the business, and have himself and Guo take over his functions — do whatever it takes to put the company on track.

Zhao’s reasoning was simple. Dragging on meant wasting years with no hope; anyone who will not face a problem and solve it cannot run a factory. Someone who has long believed in “resource integration” naturally wants value used to its maximum — any waste is a crime. So they acted: the two of them went to talk to the investor. Zhao’s view was that this was not only for himself, it was also about being able to look his own conscience in the eye; by his analysis it was the necessary move, and whatever the outcome, it could hardly be worse than dragging on. Of course, it was not going to be that easy — if it had worked, there would have been no Xiuhui.

To explain this properly, we have to go back two years. Zhao had long wanted to do something practical, with a reasonable degree of control over it. He was tired of writing application and filing documents every day (and had realised he had no core competitiveness in that industry — perhaps he worried too much). So two years earlier he had left an institution for a company, becoming a board secretary, hoping to put his “expertise” in finance and law to use (which, frankly, probably did not exist). In this world, nine out of ten things do not go the way you want; accept that and life gets easier. Along the way Zhao came into contact with manufacturing — and it seemed more solid than finance, with far stickier customers. It was something you could do for the long term; manufacturing will always be here. That is how the die casting plant mentioned above came about.

The investor talks did not work out (he is still in touch with Zhao to this day — a story for another time). But something had to be done. After more than a year of contact, both Zhao and Guo had the same unspoken thought about working together. It should come naturally, like water finding its channel — not be rushed.

Why the Two of Us Built This Die Casting Factory

Strong complementarity is a solid foundation. Guo has deep industry experience, technical grounding and some accumulated customers, but a visible gap in refined management. Zhao is strong on data analysis, rigorous logic, and process and systems thinking down to the bone, with a strong sense of risk control. Two completely different backgrounds — which is exactly why they do not fight: neither can out-argue the other.

Deep mutual trust is what lasts. Both know the other is not petty, does not think only of himself, looks at things from the company’s point of view, and will not stab the other in the back. Shared goals and shared principles are what keep a partnership going.

And so the two naturally decided to build a die casting business together. Our plan: start with zinc alloy die casting, then move into standard aluminum die casting, and finally anodisable aluminum die casting. Starting from “millet and rifles” — the barest of setups — we serve every customer, big or small, with care, and use professionalism and technology to raise efficiency and create value. The plan is moving forward steadily now, and it has been a singular life experience. We are a deliberately “small but excellent” company, focused on appearance parts and precision structural die castings; and we are also a company with a heart, giving our people as much care and return as conditions allow. Because we firmly believe employees should be encouraged, not scolded — that is the best win-win there is.