Giving away the family fortune rather than passing on a dynasty goes against the basic instinct of most Chinese business leaders. So what made him do it?

'This was my dream. I always wanted to be a kung-fu hero who in classical Chinese literature was willing to give up his life and wealth to help his country and people,' said Mr Chiang.

'I didn't have any money and the ability to help China when I was a young boy because my family was very poor. But I had the money when I was 68 and so I did what I always wanted to do.'

Having grown poor in war-torn China, Mr Chiang says his youth was spent reading classical martial arts novels. What appealed to him was not the hero's ability to kill enemies with the sword but their self-sacrificing spirit to give up their wealth and even their lives in the service of their country.

'In the past decades, China did not have much influence in the international arena because Chinese people were poor,' he said.

'The reason for the poverty was that China did not have advanced industries.'

By using his wealth to set up the charity fund, Mr Chiang clearly sees himself as a latter-day hero.

Following the 1990 transfer of his shareholding to a charity, Chen Hsong was listed on the stock exchange.

Mr Chiang has not quite been reduced to the ascetic lifestyle of his role-models. According to the company's 2000 annual report its highest paid director, believed to be Mr Chiang, was paid about HK$6 million.

He declined to reveal his personal remuneration, but said: 'I am probably the lowest paid chairman in this industry.'

How do his six daughters, one son and 17 grandchildren feel about being effectively disinherited?

Mr Chiang said his family respected him all the more for his decision. Each child received 1.6 per cent of Chen Hsong shares when their mother died in 1979.

'I found that my children and my friends showed me more respect after I gave away my fortune,' he said.

His youngest daughter, Chiang Lai-yuen, who is executive director and deputy chief executive of the firm, said she was proud of her father.

'He has enlightened me to see life beyond material values. The true value of life lies in one's selfless contribution to your family, community and the nation.'

Other members of the family have joined the firm, including daughter Ann Chiang and son Chiang Chi-kin. Lily Chiang, who won an industry award, and was an executive director until last year, has left the firm.

Ten years after the establishment of his charitable body Mr Chiang reckons his venture has been fruitful.

Three training centres provide education for 4,000 manufacturing-based executives a year. It has financed nearly 10,000 mainland executives through courses in Hong Kong, Britain, Germany and the United States.

'Many industrial executives who have participated in these courses said they had improved their knowledge a great deals,' he said.

The fund sponsors research and development ventures and an award scheme - paying a US$100,000 cash prize to the 'industrialist' who best achieves productivity gains or develops new production machinery.

There is one catch to Mr Chiang's programmes. All applicants must be Chinese, and he makes no apologies for this racial exclusivity.

'China is my country and what I care most about,' he said.

Mr Chiang has also established a college in Shandong, his home province.

His mother died when he was two years old and his father left him an orphan when he was 10. Mr Chiang was raised by an elder brother.

During the eight years of the Japanese occupation of China the Chiang brothers were constantly fleeing from one city to another and this continued during the civil war. The pair eventually arrived in Hong kong in 1949, after the communist takeover in the mainland.

'Life in wartime was so harsh that I have never felt bitter about difficult times in the later part of my life,' he said.

His early engineering knowledge was picked up during a five-year stint in the Kuomintang army which he joined at the age of 14.

After arriving in Hong Kong he took on a variety of jobs - working as a labourer, dockside courier and in a Ma On Shan quarry.

With an introduction from his landlord he joined Swire's aircraft maintenance and repair arm - Hong Kong Aircraft Engineering Co (Haeco), where he further honed his engineering skills.

Looking back Mr Chiang said his monthly HK$200 salary was 'not too bad' in the early 1950s when

fried noodles cost about 60 HK cents and a bowl of congee about 10 HK cents.

He left Haeco for a higher-paying job but soon after he joined the new company collapsed. Despite an invitation from his former boss to return to Haeco he was too embarrassed to go back.

Instead he used his HK$200 savings to establish Chen Hsong in 1958. The firm's name derived from his name and fellow founding partner, Tam Hsong. Mr Tam withdrew from the company within a few years of its establishment.

As a do-anything engineering start-up, the firm's two employees grabbed work where they could whether it was fixing a broken engine or designing a new production machine.

A crucial turning point was a client asking Mr Chiang to design a plastic blow-moulding machine which could handle two colours rather than the then-standard one-colour variety.

He struggled vainly for a week on the design. The breakthrough came when he was inspired by the memory of two Sichuan rivers he had seen flow side by side without their waters mixing.

The client paid a princely HK$6,000 for the innovative machine, ensuring the firm's financial success and, within the plastics industry, a measure of fame. The machine made a red and white striped ball - a simple but hugely successful toy with local children in the 1960s.

From there the firm grew into one of the world's biggest makers of plastic injection moulding machines, with its 2.400 employees turning out 9,000 units a year.

The machines are sold to manufacturers of a wide range of plastic products from home appliances to toys and plastic flowers.

Mr Chiang lacked a formal education, but his office houses a library brimming with technical titles on engineering, production and planning, as well as business management, finance, literature and history.

Michael Blank, a 56-year-old German engineer who has run one of Chen Hsong's system projects since 1997, said: 'Mr Chiang not only helps the engineers solve daily problems, but also encourages us to see things on a higher horizon. He is a great mentor.'

Taking in the bigger picture, Mr Chiang said his story proved Hong Kong was the perfect place to create a business.

'Hong Kong is a fair and just city. I had no family background, no relationships, no big capital, but I could still create my own business,' he said.

He plans to retire from full-time work in two years, when he is 80, but will continue as a consultant.

Chiang Chen, OBE, 78, is founder and chairman and chief executive officer of plastic injection moulding machine manufacturer Chen Hsong Holdings. Born in 1923in a farmer's family in Shandong, he came to Hong Kong in 1949 and founded Chen Hsong in 1958 with HK$200.

He is founder and chairman of Chiang Industrial Charity Foundation, director of Hong Kong Plastic Technology Centre, and a court member of Hong Kong Polytechnic University.

He is married, with six daughters, one son, and 17 grandchildren.

Graphic: face20gbz