Chapter 103

Back in Anbei, Guihua worked as a caretaker at the affiliated kindergarten of the Anbei Agricultural College. But after Mingdong was transferred to the capital, she no longer had a corresponding job. At home, she either cooked or cleaned, or went next door to chat with her parents. Her life was as dull and lifeless as stagnant water. Guihua’s mother, Liu Chunhua, was not one to sit idle. Seeing her daughter do nothing all day, she would shake her head and often urge her to find something meaningful to do while she was still young.

Guihua inherited her mother’s stubborn drive. She didn’t want to just sit at home either. She’d already been thinking about finding some kind of work. When she learned that Roubao had secretly started a business and was making good money—and that even her sister-in-law said the state supported it—she got fired up. Her blood was surging, and she was itching to roll up her sleeves and go set up a stall herself.

Mingdong looked at Guihua, full of ambition, and immediately got a headache. “If you’re out running a stall, what about the kids?”

“What kids?” Guihua gave him a sideways glance. “They’re all grown up now. Doubao’s about to take the college entrance exam; I don’t need to worry about his studies. Tangbao goes straight to school and back; she can handle herself. If you two want lunch and dinner, make it yourselves. Don’t want to cook? Eat in the cafeteria or go to my parents’ place. What, you think you’ll starve to death without me?”

Since transferring to the capital, Mingdong only had half-day classes. Unlike before, there was no farm or test fields to oversee, so he had plenty of free time. He knew Guihua’s temperament too. She’d only been at home less than a year and was already going stir-crazy. Now that she had the idea of starting a business, he really couldn’t stop her.

“Fine, fine,” Mingdong nodded helplessly. “But Roubao can’t let this interfere with his studies. If your grades drop even a bit, you’re shutting the stall down, understand?”

“I know, I know.” Roubao grinned happily. He never expected that after his undercover operation was exposed, instead of getting scolded, he gained a partner. He clasped his hands to Zhenzhen. “Auntie, I really owe you one. Thank you!”

Zhenzhen rolled her eyes but smiled as she went to wash her hands and help wrap dumplings. “Since sis-in-law’s going to help Roubao with the business, why not plan it properly? Decide whether you want to keep doing a street stall or open a proper shop.”

Guihua thought it over. “For the long run, a shop would definitely be better. But rent, utilities, all that costs quite a bit. A stall doesn’t attract steady customers, but it’s cheap to run. Each has its pros and cons. Zhenzhen, help me think this through.”

Zhenzhen smiled. “I suggest opening a shop. Find a place with heavy foot traffic. Don’t rent—buy it outright. A few years down the line, whether you expand or do something else, keep the property. In the capital, real estate is only going to get more valuable.”

After discussing it for a long time, Guihua and Roubao settled on two locations. One was near the universities—Capital University, National University, and others—where there was heavy traffic, and their clothes would suit the young crowd. The other was in Beiyang, where several storefronts were vacant. Those could be bought or rented. Foot traffic was lighter, but the clientele more upscale, and high-end clothes could fetch higher prices.

Zhenzhen nodded approvingly. She herself had bought quite a few storefronts in both places. Especially in Beiyang, where she’d secretly acquired several adjoining properties in what would become prime commercial real estate and a national tourist spot. The annual rent from just one of those stores could support a whole family for life.

Once the dumplings were wrapped, they were set to boil. Roubao and Guihua were still busy scribbling on paper—how much to spend on the store, how much to set aside as capital, how much to keep as liquid funds. The discussion was intense. Mingdong, peeling garlic beside them, sighed, “If I’d known this would happen, I wouldn’t have gone looking for Roubao at school. Not only did I fail to control my son, now my wife’s dragged into it too. What a loss.” But clearly, he had no say in Guihua’s plans. She didn’t even glance at him.

After returning to school, Roubao spent half a month catching up on missed lessons and passed the pop quiz with high marks. Guihua finally decided to open the shop at the junction of several universities. Following Zhenzhen’s suggestion, she bought a 50-square-meter storefront. There wasn’t much need for renovation—just whitewashed the walls, laid down vinyl flooring, hung a curtain to make a fitting room, and added two big mirrors. That was enough.

With the store ready, they needed stock. The mother and son bought train tickets to Guangdong. Two weeks later, they returned with over a dozen large sacks of clothes and sent another twenty by train. It would take at least half a month for those to arrive. Zhenzhen helped them custom-make display racks and hanging nets. Guihua and Roubao worked for two days to hang everything up. Without checking for an auspicious date, they picked a Sunday, put up the signboard, lit a string of firecrackers, and opened Gui Fu Lan Xiang Boutique Clothing Store.

It was the weekend and the weather was especially nice. Students liked to stroll around campus on rest days, checking out the latest little shops. The firecrackers drew a crowd. Seeing the jeans and trench coats hanging at the door, students flocked in, pushing and jostling. Guihua and Roubao bustled around—one helping customers, the other taking payments—both watching everything, listening to conversations, introducing styles, and staying alert for any shoplifters. They were swamped.

It wasn’t until noon that the crowd began to thin. Seeing that half the wall was empty, Guihua’s back didn’t ache and her legs didn’t hurt anymore. She felt energized and barked orders: “Son, go buy lunch.”

The shop was close to Roubao’s school. He hopped on his bike and was back soon with two big boxes of food. The mother and son ate face-to-face. Guihua sipped tea and said, “Tomorrow students have classes, so there won’t be as many people. Focus on your studies—you don’t need to come. Once half the shipped clothes are sold, we’ll head south to restock.”

“Got it.” He quickly cleaned up the boxes and wiped the table. After a short rest, they pulled more clothes from the back to fill the empty wall. As lunchtime passed, customers started trickling in again.

From a young age, Guihua had a bold, adventurous streak. Now that she had her own business, she threw herself into it with even more energy. Partnering with his mother allowed Roubao to dedicate more time to studying. He soaked up knowledge hungrily. On weekends, if he wasn’t helping at the store, he was out researching the market. After graduation, he planned to use the money he’d earned to start his own company and hand the clothing store over to Guihua, staying out of it.

Within a year, Guihua’s business was booming. She bought the adjacent 60-square-meter shop, closed for half a month during a restock trip, and hired a builder to knock down the wall between the two spaces. She added more fitting rooms and expanded the inventory to include backpacks, shoes, hair accessories, and hair clips. These inexpensive items had surprisingly high profit margins. Female students and nearby female workers loved to browse, even if they didn’t buy anything.

While Guihua’s business thrived, Zhenzhen was also thinking about her future. By now, her assets were so vast she needed a ledger to keep track. Within legal limits, she had purchased properties in several future first-tier cities—some turned into businesses managed by hired staff, others rented out. Residential properties were also rented out. The rundown ones, she left untouched to wait for demolition compensation.

The 300 boxes of gold she’d excavated from the Golden Manor remained largely untouched in her space, along with countless antiques. Over the years, Zhenzhen had catalogued all the calligraphy and paintings. Those classified as national treasures were neatly displayed on shelves, safe from oxidation or damage thanks to the space’s unique environment. The rest were stored separately to be used as household décor in the future.

Now, Zhenzhen was sitting on a mountain of treasure but had no legitimate way to bring it to light. She needed a business to act as a public front. Taking a week’s vacation, she scouted around the capital and finally set her sights on an old furniture factory.

This factory had been around since before the founding of the country. Back then, it was staffed by renowned carpenters from the Republican era. After liberation, it absorbed all the local woodworking talent, continuing to use traditional, centuries-old techniques. Apprentices were taught the old-fashioned way—hands-on, for over ten years before they were considered trained. Later, due to political movements, it became state-owned. And because finely carved furniture was labeled part of the “Four Olds,” the factory was only allowed to make the simplest, plainest pieces with no patterns at all.

Back during the campaign period, the furniture factory was already struggling to stay afloat. After the campaign ended, their plain solid wood furniture—completely lacking in distinct features—couldn’t sell at all. Those seeking grandeur preferred luxurious furniture, while ordinary people leaned toward economical panel furniture. This factory, stuck in between, had no sales at all.

In this era of policy reform, the factory leadership lacked the courage for innovation and change. They always used the excuse that the factory wasn’t meant to make money but to serve the people wholeheartedly, so they never tried to find ways to generate profit—always hoping the state would come up with a solution. As a result, after barely hanging on for a few more years, the factory finally couldn’t hold out and was about to close this year.

Dozens of workers were on the verge of losing their jobs—some in their fifties, the youngest in their thirties or forties—all the breadwinners of their families. No job meant no income. Once the workers got wind of the closure, they started gathering outside the factory director’s office daily, demanding an explanation. Solving their employment issue became a top priority for the district, even alarming the city leadership, who issued a directive requiring a solution within a month—someone had to be found to take over the factory.

Such a large factory with so many workers couldn’t be transferred for just a few hundred or thousand yuan. Although employees were given priority to take it over, most were lifelong craftsmen, and very few had both the ability and the guts to do so.

Zhenzhen took a liking to the spacious factory located within the second ring road, but even more to the skilled craftsmanship of these veteran workers. However, as a university girl who hadn’t even graduated yet, declaring that she wanted to buy a factory was bound to be complicated. She thought of Xi Junjie’s grand-uncle, Xi Changshan—the current mayor of the capital city. Since the district and city governments both saw this project as a top priority, if she could communicate well with the mayor, the rest could be handled by the government. The only problem was how to bring it up.

Zhenzhen had taken the whole week off, so Xi Junjie hadn’t seen her in days. When he finally came home over the weekend, he had originally wanted to take her to a movie, only to find out that the old lady at home had summoned everyone for a family dinner the next day.

Their family held gatherings every ten days or so—partly because the elderly couple enjoyed spending time with their children and grandchildren, and partly to maintain close ties. Ling Xiulan was preparing things to bring to the old house and looked up at Xi Junjie, saying, “Go ask Zhenzhen if she’s coming. Your grandma called and said she hasn’t seen her in a while and misses her.”

Xi Junjie grinned, packed two Hami melons, and went next door. Zhenzhen was sketching ideas for the factory when she saw him and smiled immediately. She stood by the window and asked, “What brings you here?”

He held up the melons. “Brought you some fruit.”

Zhenzhen put down her pen and came out. Wang Sufen also heard the commotion and came out with scissors and a bowl to cut some grapes for Xi Junjie.

Their homegrown grapes, thanks to Zhenzhen, didn’t need fertilizer and still grew large and sweet. After a quick rinse with well water, they were ready to eat. Li Muwu often took some along when he went fishing, and his fishing buddies would steal a couple, eventually getting hooked. They started competing with him—whoever caught fewer fish had to share their grapes. Before long, everyone in the neighborhood knew the Li family’s grapes were exceptionally sweet.

Wang Sufen placed the washed grapes beside Xi Junjie. “Eat a few to quench your thirst.”

He thanked her and popped a few grapes in his mouth while chatting with Grandma Li. Then he got to the point. “We’re going to the old house for lunch tomorrow. My grandma said she hasn’t seen you in ages and misses you—wanted me to ask if you’d come.”

Grandma Li smiled at Zhenzhen. “I’m fine with it, but you’ll have to ask her. She’s been so busy lately, I don’t know if she’s free.”

Zhenzhen had been trying to figure out how to speak with Xi Changshan. If she went to the old house, she wouldn’t need Xi Junjie to take her separately—so she quickly agreed, “I’m free tomorrow. I miss Grandma Xi too.” Then she turned to Junjie, adding, “By the way, will your grand-uncle be there tomorrow? I have something I’d like to ask his help with.”

Xi Junjie looked a bit curious. “What is it? Can’t I help you?”

Grandma Li interjected, “Zhenzhen, don’t trouble others unless it’s really necessary. If there’s something we can’t handle, then ask your grand-uncle—he’ll figure it out.”

“It’s not a big deal, and it just happens to be something Grandpa Xi is in charge of.” Zhenzhen smiled and got straight to the point. “I heard a nearby furniture factory is about to shut down. The government is looking for someone to take over, right?”

Xi Junjie had heard his grand-uncle complain about that issue during his last visit—saying if no one took it over, they’d have to reassign all the workers to other factories, and that they couldn’t just let them become a destabilizing element in society.

Seeing him nod, Zhenzhen continued, “I want to take over the factory.”

He was stunned and looked at her in disbelief. “You’ve thought this through? I heard that factory’s got tons of unsold raw materials and products, and no sales. Plus, there are dozens of workers waiting on their paychecks. Without several thousand or even tens of thousands, it’s impossible. And you haven’t even graduated—do you have time to manage a factory?”

Grandma Li was also startled when she heard the word “tens of thousands.” “Oh my, that’s no small sum.” She was about to ask Zhenzhen if she had that kind of money but then remembered the jewelry box Zhenzhen had shown them recently, gleaming with gold. She figured Zhenzhen was probably planning to sell those and said no more.

Zhenzhen smiled confidently. “Since I want to take over the factory, I’ve already considered all that. But the details will need to be discussed with Grandpa Xi. As for management—I’ve already found the right person.”

Seeing that, Xi Junjie didn’t say more. This was a big deal for Zhenzhen, and all he could do was support her from behind and help wherever he could.

The next morning, Zhenzhen carried a bag of fruit and fresh vegetables from their own garden and got in the Xi family’s car. After turning 80, Grandma Xi went to see Doctor Zhang every month for a check-up. With his treatments, she no longer had to drink bitter Chinese medicine, and her sleep problems, dizziness, and frequent night wakings were all gone. She now walked briskly, and much of her white hair had turned black again.

Grateful that Zhenzhen had introduced her to such a renowned physician, and with frequent visits between the two families lately, Grandma Xi had grown quite fond of her. Every time she returned from a check-up, she would stop by the Li family for a chat. She and Ling Xiulan especially loved the Li family garden—vibrant flowers, lush vegetables—so full of life it made one feel at ease.

Seeing Zhenzhen arrive, Grandma Xi beamed. “Zhenzhen’s here? What did you bring this time?”

“Hi Grandma Xi, how’s your health lately? I brought some fruit and vegetables from our garden—not worth much, but they’re fresher than store-bought.” Zhenzhen showed her a big bag of grapes and greens.

“Oh wonderful, I love your garden’s produce—it tastes better than anything outside.” She told the housekeeper to take the bag and added, “Wash the grapes and bring them out. Ever since I had Zhenzhen’s grapes, nothing else compares.”

Ever since Xi Suomei caused trouble at Grandma Xi’s 80th birthday, she and her daughter Shang Qingran hadn’t been allowed through the door for a whole year. They didn’t expect Grandma Xi to be so unforgiving. It wasn’t until this past New Year, when they brought gifts to apologize, that she finally relented and let them in again.

Watching Zhenzhen naturally talk about her homegrown produce and seeing Grandma Xi happily accept it, Xi Suomei recalled how embarrassed she’d been by Zhenzhen’s birthday gift that day. This time, the items really were just garden goods, but remembering how furious Grandma Xi had been, she held her tongue and said nothing.

The grapes were divided into a few plates and served. Xi Changshan returned home just then, and Grandpa Xi put down his newspaper and looked at him. “Why the dark circles? Still dealing with that furniture factory?”

Xi Changshan sighed. “No one dares take over such a big factory. Even if someone has the guts, they don’t have the money. The factory owes workers six months’ wages—how can we expect anyone to invest thousands without earning a cent first? It’s tough.”

Zhenzhen’s eyes lit up. She had originally planned to talk to him after the meal, but since he brought it up first, she jumped in. “Grandpa Xi, what are the requirements to take over the factory? Do you think I could do it?”

Xi Changshan didn’t quite get it. “You mean someone in your family wants to take it on? Do they know the situation? They can talk to me.”

Zhenzhen smiled. “Actually, I want to take it over myself.”

This time, it wasn’t just Xi Changshan who was stunned—the whole family was shocked. The room fell into complete silence. No one had expected a young girl who hadn’t even graduated from college to have such courage.

Xi Changshan was the first to recover. “This isn’t something you can just take over on a whim. The upfront investment alone is significant. You need to guarantee that you have the ability to pay the workers on time.”

Zhenzhen took her bag, pulled out a bank deposit slip, and handed it to Xi Changshan. He took it, confused, and opened it. It had Li Mingzhen’s name on it, and the amount below was a full 30,000 yuan.

Zhenzhen smiled lightly. “Is that enough?”

“It’s enough!” Xi Changshan was deeply shocked. He hadn’t expected this young girl to have so much money. But then he recalled the gift she had given for his mother’s 80th birthday and realized maybe it wasn’t so surprising. The ginseng and lingzhi she gave could easily fetch a thousand or two on the market. Someone who could give such a generous gift probably had a solid financial foundation.

Returning the deposit slip to Zhenzhen, Xi Changshan looked at her with more seriousness. “I know you’re majoring in economics at Imperial Capital University, but running a factory is not the same as what’s taught in books. Just because you have money doesn’t mean I’ll sell you the factory. You have to prove you can keep it running, that you can ensure these dozens of workers have food on the table. Only then can I feel at ease handing it over to you.”

Zhenzhen nodded. “Uncle Xi, you’re right. You’re being responsible—for the factory, and for the workers. And from my side, of course I’ve thought it through. After all, no one’s money grows on trees. I wouldn’t dare take on something if I wasn’t confident in it.”

She pulled out a stack of papers from her bag and handed them to Xi Changbo. “These are my plans. Please take a look.”

He flipped through them casually at first, and saw three big words at the top: Business Plan. What followed was five densely written pages, all in Zhenzhen’s neat handwriting. Xi Changshan took a deep breath and began reading seriously.

While Xi Changshan and Zhenzhen were discussing business, the rest of the room didn’t dare speak loudly. Chang Leqing was dying for the deal to be settled immediately, so Xi Changshan could finally eat and sleep well again. Xi Sumei, on the other hand, cast a jealous glance at Zhenzhen’s back and kept darting her eyes toward the bag, scratching her head and trying to guess just how much money it took to buy a factory. Shang Qingran, seeing her mother’s expression, instantly knew what she was thinking and pinched her hand discreetly. Xi Sumei finally restrained her gaze, but when she remembered that their own family’s savings didn’t even reach 100 yuan, she felt deeply unbalanced and bit into a piece of Hami melon with fierce resentment.

After finishing the thick business plan, Xi Changshan looked at Zhenzhen with a completely different expression. “I already knew you were smart, but I didn’t realize you had such foresight. If you can follow through on what’s written here, then I’ll approve you taking over the factory.”
—

Author’s Note:

Zhenzhen: My money didn’t fall from the sky.
Grandma Li: Mhm, it all came from the ground.
Xi Sumei: So mad right now!!!

Zhenzhen: Heard you’re not convinced? How about a little contest?

Xi Sumei: Let’s compare our family wealth.

Zhenzhen waves her hand—three hundred crates of gold appear.

Xi Sumei: Uh… how about a fight instead?

Zhenzhen lifts her foot and kicks down a tree.

Xi Sumei: Maybe… an IQ contest?

Zhenzhen looks shocked: Wait, you have an IQ?

Xi Sumei, dead.