Chapter 26

Jiang Yuyue said, “This factory reform was co-led by him and the factory’s Party secretary.”

Jiang Zhengmin’s mind was struggling: “You mean this liquor factory reform was co-led by him and the factory’s Party secretary?”

Jiang Yuyue watched her father’s bewildered expression and felt a surge of delight inside: “Yes, and the reform plan was drafted by my brother-in-law.”

Jiang Zhengmin opened his mouth slightly, then said after a long pause: “You believe that?”

“I do!” Jiang Yuyue declared firmly. “My brother-in-law is incredibly talented.”

Jiang Zhengmin smiled: “I don’t believe it. If he really had ability, why has he remained just an ordinary worker all these years?”

Jiang Yuyue: “Because there was never a stage for him to show his talent. Give him an opportunity, and he’ll shine brilliantly.”

Jiang Zhengmin slightly furrowed his brow. Jiang Yuyue’s visit hadn’t eased his doubts—it had deepened them. Whenever she mentioned Zhou Andong, her tone and expression mirrored exactly how her sister Jiang Yuping had spoken back then.

But unlike his wife, he never showed his worries, let alone interfered in Jiang Yuyue’s life or relationships. He trusted his own judgment: Zhou Andong was all surface. Hadn’t his eldest daughter Jiang Yuping been fooled the same way? After years of marriage, she finally saw what kind of man he was—and divorced him without hesitation.

Still, he couldn’t help but admire this ex-son-in-law. Somehow, he’d convinced the factory’s Party secretary to launch this reform. But looking at the bottle in his hand, did he really think the common people were fools? Just slap on a fancy package, write “***” on it, and expect the liquor to sell? He didn’t buy it.

So while he was worried, he wasn’t as anxious as his wife. To him, this so-called reform looked like a farce—it couldn’t possibly succeed. When it failed, Jiang Yuyue would finally see Zhou Andong for who he really was, realize he wasn’t nearly as outstanding as she imagined, and naturally drift away.

“Fine, whatever you say,” Jiang Zhengmin placed the bottle on the coffee table.

Jiang Yuyue picked up the bottle: “This liquor is called Red Dragon VIP. See this seal? Bottles with this seal are *** liquor—they won’t be sold on the market. The ones sold publicly will be the regular, unsealed version.”

Jiang Zhengmin said: “If it’s so good, take it and give it as a gift.”

Jiang Yuyue smiled: “You really want me to take it and give it away? You won’t regret it?”

Jiang Zhengmin snorted: “It’s got a prettier package, but isn’t the inside still just high-sorghum liquor?”

Jiang Yuyue nodded, found a large bag in the office, and put the bottle inside: “Then I’m really taking it to give away.”

Jiang Zhengmin waved his hand: “Take it, just take it away.”

“Alright!” Jiang Yuyue kicked the box of wall calendars. “These hundred calendars are for you—hand them out as employee benefits to the bank staff.”

“I’m off!” Jiang Yuyue grabbed the bottle and left.

Jiang Zhengmin took down the calendar he’d hung on the wall just a few days ago and replaced it with Jiang Yuyue’s. Then, with his hands behind his back, he stared at the calendar showing his daughter, his face full of smiles. He wasn’t some old-fashioned man—if Jiang Yuyue wasn’t posing in swimsuits or revealing outfits for the calendar, he was quite supportive.

“Knock knock knock…”

The office door was knocked on. Jiang Zhengmin said: “Come in!”

The door opened from outside, and the credit department director walked in: “Manager!”

Jiang Zhengmin said: “Old Zheng, sit down.”

Zheng Bingyan said: “What’s so great about the calendars…? Hey, this is Yuyue?”

Jiang Zhengmin smiled, clearly proud: “Old Zheng, what do you think? Isn’t my youngest daughter beautiful?”

Zheng Bingyan nodded: “Yuyue is indeed beautiful—more so than her sister. But what’s going on? Is this an ad campaign? Jiangzhou Yugong Liquor? I’ve never heard of this brand in Jiangzhou.”

Jiang Zhengmin said: “The Jiangzhou Liquor Factory is reforming and hired Yuyue as their spokesperson. This Jiangzhou Yugong Liquor is their new product. I bet it’s just a fancy package with the same old high-sorghum inside.”

Zheng Bingyan said cheerfully: “Who cares if it’s high-sorghum or not? If Yuyue’s endorsing it, I’m buying two bottles to take home and drink.”

Jiang Zhengmin smiled but said nothing: “There are more calendars in that box—take a few and hand them out to your department as benefits.”

Less than an hour later, every employee in the branch had received a calendar.

“Is this Jiang Yuyue?”

“Let me see—wow, it really is.”

“I just saw her earlier—we chatted a bit. She didn’t mention anything about calendars.”

“Is this an ad for the liquor?”

“Yes, I heard it from the credit department—Yuyue really is endorsing the new liquor from Jiangzhou Liquor Factory.”

“Oh, we’ve got to support it!”

“But this liquor isn’t cheap—look, the price is printed right here: eighty.”

“Eighty? It’s almost the New Year. When you visit relatives and give gifts, what’s the difference which liquor you buy?”

“True!”

Zhou Andong had never had good intentions when he got Jiang Yuyue to pose for the calendars. He simply wanted to leverage Jiang Zhengmin’s influence in the banking system to boost liquor sales. After all, if the bank manager’s daughter endorses it, how could anyone refuse to buy two bottles?

But even Zhou Andong hadn’t expected how much sales this single move would generate within the banking system.

Jiang Zhengmin never imagined he’d one day be outmaneuvered by Zhou Andong—and never see it coming. And that foolish girl Jiang Yuyue? She was being sold by Zhou Andong and still happily counting his money for him.

In the provincial capital, Fengjing City, Huang Shanhe parked his car in front of a small inn. The group checked in, then carried the calendars and liquor into the rooms.

Huang Shanhe pulled out cigarettes and lit one for each man: “Brothers, good luck finishing your mission. I’ll wait here for your triumphant return.”

Seven men each took a dozen calendars and left—but no liquor. They knew selling the liquor wouldn’t be easy. First, they’d test the market with the calendars.

Wu Cheng walked the streets, clutching a rolled bundle of calendars. Unlike the others, he didn’t head for big stores or markets—he sought out small private shops and corner stalls.

After all, this was the provincial capital. Since reform and opening-up, private enterprises had emerged naturally—from tolerated, to recognized, to encouraged. Under this backdrop, individual vendors had sprung up like mushrooms after rain.

Aimin Store. Wu Cheng looked up at the sign and stepped inside. It was a grocery shop—oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, tea, rice, flour—all there.

The owner, a short man in his forties with a mustache and a forward cap, sat beside a stove, puffing on a water pipe.

“What do you want?” The owner glanced at Wu Cheng.

Wu Cheng shook his head: “I’m not buying anything.”

The owner frowned: “Then why’d you come in?”

Wu Cheng crept close to the owner and whispered: “I’ve got some calendars. Want to buy them?”