KUALA LUMPUR: The life story of the late Tan Sri Tiong Hiew King has proven that true gold will shine wherever it is, writes Hannah Tiong, the youngest granddaughter of timber conglomerate Rimbunan Hijau Group founder.

In a letter to Tiong that she posted on her Facebook, Hannah described Tiong as a man of diligence and conviction, recalling Tiong’s life, legacy and the spirit he left behind.

His passing, she wrote, is not only a great loss to the family but also to society at large.

Last week was an extremely difficult one for our entire family.

I was supposed to leave for China to begin a new course, but suddenly received news that grandpa was critically ill. In that moment, everyone dropped everything and rushed home overnight, just so we could be by his side.

Although the week was filled with sorrow and tears, it was also a time of deep reflection. I revisited grandpa’s life — a journey of faith, humility, hard work, and love.

A life of struggle and legend

Since young, I often heard the elders say that Fuzhou people are known for their longevity — most live well into their nineties. Our great-grandfather lived to 102.

Grandpa, the eldest of nine siblings, was born into poverty and carried the family’s burdens from a young age.

In his youth, he tapped rubber to make ends meet, while grandma stayed home to care for the younger siblings — cooking, washing, and managing the household. They supported each other through hardship, each fulfilling their part.

Those years forged grandpa’s resilience and indomitable will.

Although he had little formal education and his siblings later had the chance to attend university, it was his hard work and selflessness that made it possible for them to study and change their destinies.

He never earned a degree, yet he deeply valued knowledge, always reading and learning.

 He often said: “Reading isn’t for showing off — it’s to broaden your mind.”

He was not only the eldest son but also the pillar of the entire family.

Without him, there would be no us today.

He shouldered the burden quietly, never seeking recognition or repayment — only hoping that we would remember his efforts and his heart.

That selfless love is something we will always hold close.

Building the Rimbunan Hijau Group

At 40, he started the Rimbunan Hijau Group from scratch.

At the time, his younger siblings were still small, and he had to support the family while taking on the heavy weight of entrepreneurship. He didn’t work for wealth, but for his family — to give the next generation a better life.

With diligence and conviction, he built his business step by step — from the small town of Sibu to across Malaysia, Asia, and beyond.

From timber and palm oil to the media industry, he single-handedly built the Rimbunan Hijau Group into one of Malaysia’s most influential conglomerates.

He once told his management team: “I’ll keep working until the day I die.”

The simple words that perfectly embodied his humble, steadfast, and never-give-up spirit.

His contribution to the Chinese community

Grandpa’s life was deeply rooted in the Chinese community. He had unwavering dedication to Chinese education and culture, believing that language is the root of culture and the soul of a people.

He often said that the purpose of business success was not to show off, but to give back — to benefit others and society.

He wasn’t just a businessman, but a bridge between communities — helping to strengthen Malaysia-China relations and playing an important role among Chinese outside China.

What I later understood

As a child, I used to find Chinese too difficult and preferred English. I didn’t understand why Grandpa was so determined to uphold Chinese education.

It wasn’t until I studied in the United States and met many Chinese students that I began to improve my Mandarin and truly appreciate its depth and beauty.

Some feelings, I realised, can only be expressed in Chinese.

 That’s why I chose to write this letter in Chinese.

At that moment, I finally understood why Grandpa loved and protected Chinese education so passionately — it wasn’t just about a language but about preserving culture and identity.

His simple and authentic style

Everyone who knew him remembers his classic look — a green tie, a short-sleeved white shirt, and a pair of sneakers.

No designer labels, no extravagance — just simplicity and sincerity. That was his signature — a symbol of his humility and authenticity.

What stood out most was his respect for everyone. Whether a corporate executive, a security guard, or an indigenous worker, he would speak to them kindly — often in Iban, which he learned in his early days working in the rubber estate and never forgot.

That was grandpa — grounded, humble, and true to his roots.

He could meet with business and political leaders in the morning and chat with plantation workers in the afternoon.

He didn’t see rank — only people.

The grandpa I knew

To the world, he was a serious and powerful businessman.

But to me, he was also a gentle and caring grandfather.

When I was little, our home was right next to his.

 After school, I’d often run over for dinner. In front of his house stood a tiger statue — just like the one in Crazy Rich Asians.

As a child, it scared me every time I walked past, yet I couldn’t help but sneak another look.

 Those scenes have become my warmest childhood memories.

I still remember when I was about 14 — our family went to the U.S. for my elder brother’s graduation from University of California, Los Angeles.

That evening, we missed our dinner reservation because of traffic and ended up sitting at the bar instead.

I threw a little “princess tantrum,” feeling upset — but grandpa noticed.

 He came over and asked gently, “Are you both okay?”

 Just a few words, but I’ve remembered them all my life.

That same year, when the iPad had just launched, he bought one for himself and an iPod Shuffle for me.

 I thought, “Wow, having grandpa pay is great — I should’ve asked for more!”

He wasn’t a man of many words — his generation lived through hardship and believed in action, not talk.

 Their life motto was simple: Just do it.

The distance between us

As the youngest granddaughter, I always felt I missed out on much time with him.

During my first 20 years, he was at the peak of his career.

I told myself, “That’s okay — I’ll study hard, and one day, I’ll be able to stand proudly beside him.”

Our family was always involved with the media. Grandpa loved reading and newspapers — so did Dad.

 Surrounded by that environment, I too became passionate about current affairs, always curious about where grandpa had flown off to for business that week.

Every time I saw news about him, I felt excitement and pride.

While other girls compared brands, I followed world news — all because of him.

When I scored seven As in my junior middle three exams ( similar to PMR), I thought, “No need to tell him myself — people around him will surely spread the word!”

Later, when I went to study in the U.S., I’d visit him and grandma whenever I came home — though often, he was away overseas again.

Our last meal together was a lunch he invited my cousin and me to — right before I returned to the U.S.

I still remember saying, “In another year and a half, I’ll be graduating.” I kept thinking, “Once I graduate, we’ll finally talk about news and world affairs together.”

But life rarely goes as planned. In my third year, I received the call that he had suffered a sudden stroke. I was devastated.

Those months were the hardest of my college life — I prayed every day, counting the days until summer break, hoping to see him again.

Faith, miracle and love

Even after his stroke in 2017, grandpa’s mind remained sharp.

 When we played his favourite hymns — Showers of blessing, The Lord is My Shepherd, Remembrance Song, The Evergreen Song, and Jasmine Flower — he would clap, smile, and even wave goodbye to us.

Thank God for giving him eight more years, allowing him to reach 2025.

 This year, at 95, coincidentally marks the 50th anniversary of the Rimbunan Hijau Group.

Many of his friends — even those of Tan Sri rank — passed away during the pandemic. Yet grandpa was blessed to live to see his family together.

Those eight years were both God’s grace and a testament to his resilience. Seeing him enjoy durians, Coke and gatherings with old friends in his later years filled us with gratitude.

As Christians, we face farewell with peace, for we know — a life filled with love and faith is a complete one.

Last Sunday, he suddenly fell into a coma and was rushed to the hospital.

The doctors said he might only have two or three days left.

Even as he lay unconscious, I whispered in Fuzhou dialect, “Gong Gong, you mustn’t sleep anymore!” — and suddenly, his heartbeat quickened.

I knew then that he was still fighting.

Miraculously, he held on for nine more days.

A model for life

You lived to 95, celebrated your golden anniversary, built Rimbunan Hijau from scratch, raised your siblings, nurtured your descendants and inspired countless people in the Chinese community.

Thank you for laying such strong foundations for the Tiong family. As the old saying goes — those who plant the tree may not sit in its shade, but their descendants will.

We will continue to work hard, never letting your efforts go to waste.

You taught us that success is not measured by wealth or status, but by character and conviction:

“Never forget your beginnings. Persevere. Be humble. Be kind.”

These are your most precious legacies to us.

You showed through your life that one should always remember where one started, stay humble, remain grateful in success, and be generous in giving.

These values will forever guide me.

A week has passed, and rumours about you spread widely — some unkind. Yet when I saw so many people in Sibu praying for you and crying for you, I was deeply moved. That’s the warmth of a small town — people in Sibu and Sarawak are proud of you.

My promise to you

This past week, we went to the hospital every day, afraid of bad news each night.

 Yet I am thankful — this year I chose to step back from work, to spend more time with family.

 That choice gave me the chance to witness your final journey.

To everyone working far from home, I want to say: never forget to visit your parents and elders. Every time you return, they’ve grown a little older.

Grandpa, I’ve been trying hard to live and grow well.

My only regret is never hearing you say, “Hannah, you’ve done well.”

But I know you’re looking at us, smiling from heaven.

I also know some people say we were just “born lucky,” or that we’re “so rich, that money’s all we have.”

 Some even joke that “wealth never lasts three generations.”

But that’s exactly why I want to prove that our Tiong family doesn’t just inherit — we carry forward.

Through hard work and conviction, we’ll keep shining for generations to come.

I promise you — I’ll keep making you proud.

I won’t let our family fall to that so-called “third-generation curse.”

Half a year ago, I told your story — your entrepreneurial journey — on my small YouTube channel, The Playbook Diary, in English.

 It was my gift to you, because I never wanted the next generation to forget.

 When I thought of which success story to tell first, yours was the one that came to mind.

Your story is legendary yet real — full of resilience and warmth.

Some say Sibu is a small, quiet town where “not even birds stop by.”

But I say — this land has produced countless humble, strong, and powerful souls. And you were the brightest among them.

You proved through your own life — True gold will shine wherever it is.

I will carry your spirit forward: never forget my beginnings; walk humbly; and influence others with kindness and love.

These values are your greatest gift to us —  I will cherish them.

Tiong, who founded Rimbunan Hijau Group with his brothers in 1975 and set up a Chinese media empire through Media Chinese International Limited, passed away at 11am on November 11. He was 95.

A memorial service will be held at 8:30 am on Saturday at Xin Fu Yuan Methodist Church, Sibu, Sarawak.