Chapter 18: Self-Doubt in Gu Bing

Gu Bing’s expression was grim; he had heard the murmurs and swept the crowd with a cold glance.

A few of the louder speakers shrank back, hiding behind the crowd and refusing to look up. Whether or not Gu Bing held real power in the factory, he was still a leader, and the workers still feared him.

Zhou Andong smiled, glanced at the crowd—some faces were familiar, but he couldn’t recall their names. For him, it had been over twenty years; even those once familiar had grown strange, forgotten.

Besides, Yao Army was in Workshop Two, where he often went to beg for cigarettes, so all his connections were there. As for the Quality Inspection Department, it wasn’t worth mentioning.

There’s a saying: when filth becomes normal, purity becomes a crime.

In Zhou Andong’s eyes, not one person in Quality Inspection was decent. But in the eyes of the others in Quality Inspection, Zhou Andong himself was the shit-stirrer.

“See how it is!” Gu Bing grunted, opened the wine case, and pulled out a box. “Just like you said—top-tier, elegant, and classy.”

Zhou Andong took it—the quality was genuinely good, nearly matching Red Dragon VIP. The imitation ancient script on Jiangzhou Imperial Tribute Wine looked suitably evocative.

He opened the box: inside lay yellow silk, and the bottle was wrapped in a red silk pouch. He pulled the drawstring, removed the bottle. Though still the same high-quality sorghum liquor, the red front and back labels made it look entirely different. The cap was a pity—lowering the overall elegance—but at least it was aluminum; if it had been the old plastic cap, it would’ve been a nightmare.

Zhou Andong noticed the bold printing of “Special Brew” on the bottle and asked, “Is Special Brew just a hundred cases?”

Gu Bing said, “Yes. All according to plan.”

Zhou Andong said, “Notify the packaging plant—they can ramp up production fully.”

Gu Bing nodded. “I’ve already notified them.”

Zhou Andong took two boxes and walked out. Gu Bing ordered the wine moved into storage, then hurried after him. “I don’t get it—why are all of them ***, and only these hundred cases Special Brew?”

Zhou Andong said, “Do you really not understand, or are you pretending? The awareness of some veteran comrades isn’t something a dog Erdai like you can match. Send them ***, and they’ll throw it right back at you.”

“Overlooked.” Gu Bing shook his head inwardly, forced to admire how meticulous Zhou Andong was. As for Zhou Andong calling him dog Erdai , he ignored it. He’d settle the score once the wine was sold.

Zhou Andong asked, “Have the reporters been arranged?”

“Arranged!” Gu Bing said. “Chief reporter from the People’s Daily—he’s been assigned to cover this every year.”

Zhou Andong asked, “Can you guarantee it’ll make the paper?”

Gu Bing said, “Relax. I’ve got some reputation to protect. This mess? One phone call fixes it.”

Zhou Andong said, “If it doesn’t make the paper, our plan falls apart.”

As they chatted, they got into Gu Bing’s 212 Jeep: “Where to?”

Zhou Andong said, “Find a high-end restaurant, book a table, take the photos first, then send them to the print shop for layout—we can print the wall calendars tomorrow. By the way, once our plan succeeds, lots of people will call asking for wine. You need two trustworthy people to guard the warehouse. No one—not even the old factory director or Zhang Deyou—gets to take wine out.”

“Why?” Gu Bing frowned. “Once the wine’s sold, it’s our achievement. They can’t take it away.”

Zhou Andong glanced at Gu Bing. “You’re really dense. Your IQ worries me. The fact you’ve lived this long is a miracle.”

“Aren’t I right?”

Gu Bing took a deep breath, repeating to himself: endure, endure. Once the wine sells, he’ll learn who the real boss is—otherwise, he’ll be shitting on my neck next.

Zhou Andong lit a cigarette, leaned back, and spoke casually: “You still don’t get it? Yes, we led the reform—that credit belongs to us. But those who can get wine through Gao Qingkui and Zhang Deyou? Their status isn’t ordinary. Why should we sweat and strain to make them look good, expanding their networks?”

“Damn!” Gu Bing smacked his forehead. “Shit, why didn’t I think of that?”

Zhou Andong rolled his eyes, took another drag: “If you’d thought of that, why the hell would you need me?”

Gu Bing’s heart twisted. Under Zhou Andong’s repeated blows, he was starting to doubt whether his IQ was truly flawed.

“And!” Zhou Andong said. “Do you even know what marketing is?”

Gu Bing opened his mouth to speak, but Zhou Andong cut him off: “Obviously you don’t. Go buy some books and read them.”

“I—” Gu Bing wanted to reply, but was interrupted again.

“What ‘I’? Listen: even if someone calls you directly, don’t agree unless I say so. This wine can’t be sold lightly—at least not until the end of the year. Sales must be limited.”

“Screech!” Gu Bing slammed on the brakes. Zhou Andong, unprepared, lurched forward, then snapped back, his head slamming into the hard seatback. It hurt.

“What the hell are you doing?” Zhou Andong rubbed his head, annoyed. “Don’t you know who’s sitting next to you? The future marketing mastermind—countless commercial miracles will be born from my hands. You nearly killed a genius. If I’m hurt, it’ll be an irreparable loss to China and the entire world—and you’ll be judged a criminal by all humanity.”

Gu Bing chewed his lip, then muttered darkly: “I’m sorry, future marketing mastermind. I just wanted to ask—fine, Gao Qingkui and Zhang Deyou, I get it. But why can’t I sell any either?”

“Scarcity marketing!” Zhou Andong waved lazily. “You wouldn’t understand anyway. Just trust me. Let’s go.”

“Scarcity marketing?” Gu Bing stared blankly. This marketing tactic, later overused by the next generation, was still an unfamiliar term. The one who would later perfect and popularize scarcity marketing? Xiaomi.

Workers from the packaging workshop delivered the wine to the warehouse. With good weather and nothing to do, they stood outside in groups, basking in the sun. The more people gathered, the more idle gossip spread—especially since most packaging workers were women. When women clustered together, gossip about neighbors’ lives, real or imagined, erupted instantly.

“That’s Zhou Andong—the one who pushed Gu Secretary into reform.”

“Hmph. He’s desperate. If the wine doesn’t sell, he’ll have to bark like a dog and crawl to the factory gate. Then how will he ever face anyone in the factory again, a college grad?”

“Pfft. College grad? He’s done nothing but cause trouble. If they’ve got money for reform, why not just give us our wages so we can celebrate the New Year?”

“I heard from Finance that the reform budget is ten thousand yuan—and might not even be enough.”

“Sigh. If things keep going like this, how long will the factory even last?”

“Hey, have you heard? Zhou Andong’s sleeping with Wang Ruomei from Logistics—and his wife caught them in bed.”

“Don’t spread lies about people’s reputations. Wang Ruomei’s husband works for the city government—he’s a deputy section chief. If this gets out, you’re destroying their marriage.”

“I’m not lying. Zhou Andong’s wife is divorcing him because of Wang Ruomei. And I heard it straight from Quality Inspection—”