Chapter 102: Enclosing the Mountain

“Brother Zhao, you guys go ahead and talk. If you’re in a hurry to get back, don’t wait for me. I’ll return the bike to the subdistrict office myself,” said Luo Dapeng.

He hadn’t come to Zhoujiazhuang just to guide the way this time.

He hadn’t forgotten his promise to those “little bros” last time—to bring them something tasty.

Zhao Zhenguo nodded. “Alright!”

As long as they saw Zhou Yimin and brought him back, it didn’t matter what Zhou did after that—even if he stayed overnight.

Who cared?

“Cousin, what’s so urgent?” Zhou Yimin asked, feigning ignorance.

Zhao Zhenguo sighed. “That idea you came up with—the whole noodle factory has gone crazy over it. I barely slept last night, and neither did the Factory Director.”

“Is it really that urgent?” Zhou Yimin was confused.

Zhao Zhenguo replied, “It’s not that we wanted it to be. But word got out, and now higher-ups are visiting our factory to check the development progress. Yimin, tell me the truth—do you have confidence in this?”

If he wasn’t confident, then forget it. Better to not bring him back to the factory at all and put him in an awkward position. Zhao didn’t want things to turn out like that.

“Is it that hard? I already made it.”

The moment he said that, Zhao Zhenguo’s eyes widened in disbelief.

They at the noodle factory knew exactly how hard it was. So many master workers had tried again and again, yet no one had managed to create an ideal instant noodle. It was always one problem or another.

Yet here came Zhou Yimin, dropping this bombshell out of nowhere.

What were their twenty-some hours of effort worth, compared to that?

“You already made it?” Zhao’s voice trembled slightly.

The old Party Secretary next to them didn’t understand and asked, “Made what?”

Zhou Yimin explained, “A kind of instant noodle—no need to boil it. Just pour hot water over it, wait two or three minutes, and you can eat it. This type of noodle sells really well overseas.”

Now the old Party Secretary somewhat understood.

So Yimin had invented another new thing? This time, it was a kind of noodle.

But he couldn’t understand—what’s the big deal with boiling noodles? Do foreigners not like boiling them? It doesn’t even take that long.

In reality, foreigners value efficiency—they want everything fast. That’s why instant noodles, canned goods, and fast food have become popular abroad.

And in China, in another four or five decades, when the people fully enter a fast-paced urban lifestyle, fast food culture would thrive just the same.

After saying that, Zhou Yimin added in response to Zhao Zhenguo’s question, “Yes. I followed records from an old book, tried a few times, and succeeded. I also improved the recipe. I guarantee it’s better than anything currently sold overseas.”

“Quick, come back with me! The leadership’s waiting!” Zhao immediately grabbed Zhou Yimin.

Then, suddenly remembering something, he pulled out a thick stack of ration and product coupons that Director Yang had handed over from his drawer and stuffed them into Zhou Yimin’s hands.

“These are from our Director. He said once we get instant noodles developed, there’ll be an even bigger reward. He originally wanted me to recruit you to the noodle factory, even promised you…” Zhao rattled off a whole string of things.

The old Party Secretary and the others were dumbfounded.

Those coupons alone—weren’t there like thirty or forty of them?

And there was an even bigger reward?

Plus, if he went to the noodle factory, he’d immediately become a leadership cadre?

Calling this a test of the people’s resolve? What people could resist such a test?

Zhou Yimin shook his head. “Forget about working at the noodle factory. I’m doing just fine at the steel plant.”

He valued the freedom and ease of being a purchasing agent at the steel plant. What was so great about being a leader? Meetings every day, endless annoyances—that life was not what he wanted at all.

Seeing how Zhou Yimin refused without a shred of hesitation, the old Party Secretary and the others were all exchanging glances.

The thing everyone else would fight tooth and nail for—Zhou Yimin dismissed it with total indifference.

Soon after, Zhou Yimin left for the city with Zhao Zhenguo. He asked the old Party Secretary to pass a message to his grandparents—he might not be back the next day. He then pointed at the mountain behind them.

The old Party Secretary immediately understood what he meant.

After Zhou Yimin left the village, the old Party Secretary sent someone to deliver the message to his grandparents, then gathered about twenty young and able-bodied villagers.

“I’ve gathered you all for something important…” the old Party Secretary explained everything in detail.

He also emphasized that this was Yimin’s idea and plan—everyone needed to carry it out properly.

If it worked out, even if they couldn’t enjoy chicken regularly, they’d at least be able to have eggs and meat as an occasional treat.

As soon as the villagers heard “meat,” they were instantly energized, eager to go enclose the mountain.

“Zhihong, you’ll lead the team and take charge. Get it done as quickly as possible. The key thing is to stop the chickens from running off and to keep chicken-eating pests from sneaking in,” the old Party Secretary assigned the most reliable person to be in charge.

Although the chickens would be free-range in the future, that didn’t mean they would be left entirely unattended—there would be patrols to guard against wild predators.

Especially weasels.

In the north, weasels couldn’t be casually hunted—especially in the northeast, where they were practically worshipped as gods.

Other parts of the north were more relaxed—not exactly reverent, but still respectful.

In the south, though? Weasels were just another dish. Especially in this meat-scarce era, a weasel in the south wasn’t escaping the dinner table.

Not to mention, weasels loved raiding farmers’ poultry, which gave people even more reason to hate them.

It’s said that weasels don’t just eat chickens—they like to bite them all to death before leaving, as if they’re only satisfied when everything’s dead.

That made them even more detestable.

“Alright! We’ll head out now.” Zhou Zhihong led the team to go enclose the mountain.

Enclosing the mountain wasn’t the hard part. The real challenge was getting the chicks.

But the hardest part—Yimin had taken it upon himself. The village just had to provide some manpower. In this era, rural villages were never short of manpower—it was the cheapest resource around.

Soon enough, the news that people from the noodle factory had come to fetch Zhou Yimin spread throughout Zhoujiazhuang.

Impressive!

They were full of sincerity—giving out all kinds of coupons, promising a cadre position.

Every time villagers ran into Yimin’s grandparents, they showered them with praise, making the elderly couple feel lighthearted and full of joy.

On the way back, Zhou Yimin ran into Zhou Dazhong.

Zhou Dazhong quickly told him about Team Lead Wang looking for him.

“We need to go to the noodle factory first,” Zhao Zhenguo said urgently.

But Zhou Yimin said, “I’ve got to stop by my place first—the finished product is still there!”

So it was already done!

“Great! Let’s go together,” Zhao Zhenguo said, even more delighted.

On their way back, Zhao had already discussed with Zhou how to negotiate with the noodle factory.

Though he was part of the factory and even a leader, it wasn’t his private property—what Zhou deserved, he would make sure Zhou got.

And as for Zhou wanting to secure a few job placements for the people of Zhoujiazhuang, Zhao Zhenguo promised to “drop a hint” to Director Hu.

As long as they successfully developed an instant noodle that could be exported, securing a few positions would be no problem.

The factory would surely expand in every way—facilities, hiring, production. They’d need people anyway.

So asking for a few slots was more than reasonable.
(End of Chapter)