Chapter 128: Ten Job Openings

“Ms. Zhang, please, come in and have a seat.” Zhou Yimin greeted her warmly.

Ms. Zhang found Zhou Yimin’s enthusiasm a little puzzling, but she was still pleased by his friendliness.

The two of them quickly hit it off, and in the course of their chat, Zhou Yimin occasionally slipped in some “extras”—sharing with her bits and pieces of advanced medical theories from the future.

Although they were framed as offhanded “remarks,” Ms. Zhang took them seriously. She found them incredibly insightful and gained a lot from the conversation.

At noon, they had a meal at Chen Baishu’s house, and Ms. Zhang left in a hurry afterwards.

Only the eldest aunt felt a pang of regret—nearly all the family’s “stockpile” had been wiped out in one meal.

“Don’t fuss over it. If all goes well, I think I might be due for a promotion.” Chen Baishu said cheerfully.

Hearing that her husband might get a “promotion and raise,” the eldest aunt’s attention immediately shifted.

“Really? What happened?” she asked curiously.

Chen Baishu began recounting the events of the exchange meeting he’d attended that day.

“All thanks to Yimin. That jar of medicinal wine I brewed five years ago—go take it to Yimin.” Chen Baishu told his wife.

The eldest aunt was overjoyed. Her husband was “on the rise”—how could she not be thrilled?

“Alright! I’ll take it to Yimin right away.”

When she learned this was all thanks to Yimin, she immediately retrieved the tiger bone wine her husband usually treated like a priceless heirloom, carefully wiped the dust off the jar with a cloth, and brought it over to Zhou Yimin.

She knew well just how treasured that wine was—her husband practically regarded it as a family heirloom. Normally, no one was even allowed to touch it.

Zhou Yimin wasn’t shy about accepting it either—he knew this stuff was gold. Even with money, it wasn’t something you could easily buy.

This thing was supposed to be a strong tonic. He didn’t need it himself, but it’d make a great gift.

He split it into two portions—one to take back to the village, and one for his future father-in-law, Uncle Zhang.

In the afternoon, Zhou Yimin made a trip to the noodle factory.

Wait—he should say instant noodle factory now. The factory had already been renamed. The production lines in the workshops were currently being upgraded, and construction crews were working on expanding the facility.

When Factory Director Yang heard Zhou Yimin had come by, he put down what he was doing.

“Yimin, any new suggestions?” he asked.

“No rush. Let’s produce a batch first and try launching it in the overseas market. Also, we need to tailor our products to different consumer tastes. Research the flavor preferences of every country and region.

Based on that, we can release different versions. Honestly, it’s just a matter of switching out the seasoning packets.

For example, braised beef noodles, spicy beef noodles, shrimp and fish cake noodles, mushroom chicken stew noodles, pickled mustard beef noodles, pickled mustard chicken noodles, sour and spicy beef noodles, and so on.

We should set up a research lab specifically for flavor development.

Offer a variety of flavors so foreign consumers have options.” Zhou Yimin explained.

His words were like a splash of cold water on a sleepy mind. Factory Director Yang was instantly enlightened—it was like a whole new world had opened before him.

“Good, very good!” Director Yang clapped in approval.

This would make foreign instant noodles even less competitive.

He had someone write everything down.

“Yimin, the factory can reserve ten job openings for you, but not just yet. They’ll be available in a month when the second production line is finished.” Director Yang quietly told Zhou Yimin.

Zhou Yimin nodded. “Alright, thank you, Uncle Yang.”

Director Yang patted his shoulder. “No need to be polite with your Uncle Yang. I’ll let you go—I have some things to take care of. If you’ve got more ideas, bring them to me anytime.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle Yang!”

The upcoming recruitment would involve at least 1,000 workers, but being able to privately reserve ten slots for Zhou Yimin was already quite the favor.

After all, even Director Yang didn’t have unchecked power within the factory—especially now that the factory’s classification had been upgraded, and higher-ups had sent supervisors to monitor things.

Of course, Director Yang was still in charge of production, and he still held the greatest influence in the factory.

Zhou Yimin stayed at the factory for an hour or two before leaving.

He didn’t plan to launch the cup noodle version just yet—one step at a time.

Director Yang ordered the production line adjustments to be accelerated so they could churn out a batch of instant noodles as soon as possible. They wouldn’t need to test the waters abroad—Hong Kong would be a perfect trial market.

In fact, at this stage, Hong Kong served as an important export window, or rather, a transit hub.

Beyond that, they also planned to take part in the Autumn Canton Fair and secure some orders there.

Afterward, they held another meeting.

By evening, Zhou Yimin loaded up a tricycle with half a jar of tiger bone wine, a basket of eggs, a bag of rice, a bag of flour, and a box of canned goods, then made his way to Uncle Zhang’s siheyuan courtyard.

“Auntie, is Uncle Zhang home?” He arrived at the gate just in time to run into the elderly lady in the courtyard. They had met a few times before and were familiar with each other.

Zhou Yimin handed her a handful of candies.

The auntie beamed and teased, “What’s this? Coming to propose to Yanzi? Your Uncle Zhang just got back.”

“Yanzi’s still in school! We’ll talk about that after she graduates. Auntie, could you please call my Uncle Zhang out for me?” Zhou Yimin’s skin had gotten much thicker these days—he wasn’t so easily flustered by a little teasing.

The auntie chuckled, candies in hand. “Alright, I’ll go get your Uncle Zhang.”

Before long, Zhang Jianshe came out from the courtyard.

“Yimin, you’re here? Why not come in?” Zhang Jianshe feigned ignorance.

Seeing Zhou Yimin on his tricycle with a load of goods—though the contents were covered—he could more or less guess. He was secretly delighted.

He put on a show, saying those words just for the benefit of others who might be listening.

“I’ve got something to ask of you, Uncle Zhang. Let’s walk and talk,” Zhou Yimin said, also getting into character.

Once they were a little further from the house, Zhang Jianshe asked, “What’ve you brought this time, Yimin?”

“A basket of eggs, a bag of rice, a bag of flour, and a box of canned goods. Oh, and my neighbor at the courtyard is a doctor—you know him. He gave me a jar of tiger bone wine. I brought half of it for you.”

Zhang Jianshe was overjoyed.

The eggs and meat last time had really helped nourish the research institute staff—everyone was in noticeably better shape, and their research had sped up considerably.

With this batch of supplies, they’d be set for another month.

“Alright, hand me the wine, and I’ll take care of the rest,” he said as he took the tricycle and rode it off toward Old Sun’s place.

Old Sun’s home was full of research institute families anyway, so there was no need to be secretive.

Zhou Yimin, carrying the half jar of tiger bone wine, headed back to his fiancée’s courtyard.

“Yimin, how come you brought more stuff again? Where’s your Uncle Zhang? Didn’t he go out to meet you?” Aunt Zhang asked.

At the time, Zhou Yimin’s fiancée Zhang Yan, along with her two younger sisters Zhang Yu and Zhang Lu, were all there.

Zhang Lu, the youngest, was staring wide-eyed at the jar in Zhou Yimin’s hands, thinking it might be something tasty.

“Uncle Zhang had something to do, so he stepped out. I’ll head in first.” Zhou Yimin said with a smile.

(End of Chapter)