Chapter 35: Escaping Control

The scene at Aimin Store was playing out in various places across the province. Whether individual shop owners or state-owned store clerks, all were utterly baffled: What kind of wine was Jiangzhou Yugong? Why were so many people asking about and buying it, when no one had ever heard of it before?

Individual shop owners called their superior wholesalers to inquire, while state-owned store clerks sensed something unusual and dared not conceal it, immediately reporting to their superiors.

Those fortunate individual shop owners, staring at the single bottle of Jiangzhou Yugong, felt deep resentment and picked up their phones; those with connections contacted Jiangzhou Distillery directly, while those without any connections boarded buses or trains bound for Jiangzhou.

In Jiangzhou, with thousands of wall calendars distributed, Jiangzhou Yugong wine officially entered people’s awareness.

At 3:30 p.m. on the 7th, the Sales and Supply Department’s phone—silent for over two years—suddenly rang continuously, never stopping until closing time.

Department head Yan Guohai pulled on his coat and ran upstairs to Zhang Deyou’s office door. He raised his hand to knock, when Zhang Deyou’s voice came from inside.

“Director Qian, why would I lie to you? It’s truly Da Gaoliang—just repackaged in an attractive wrapper. Gu Bing fabricated this to achieve some hidden agenda. For his own selfish gain, he’s damaged the distillery’s reputation and disregarded the interests of all workers, deceiving consumers—that’s disgraceful.”

“He’s the Party Committee Secretary; even though I and Factory Director Gao strongly opposed him, we couldn’t stop him. If he persists in this deceit, problems will inevitably arise. If you insist on this so-called tribute wine, fine—I’ll sell it to you at Da Gaoliang’s price. But if anything goes wrong, don’t blame me.”

“Oh come on, what kind of relationship do we have? How could I let you walk into a trap? Besides, I can’t stop him, but I absolutely won’t let a single bottle of this wine leave through my hands—I couldn’t live with myself otherwise.”

“Alright, alright. When we have time, I’ll treat you to a drink—let’s just drink Da Gaoliang.”

Yan Guohai heard the phone hang up, then knocked on the door. Immediately, Zhang Deyou called out: “Come in!”

Yan Guohai pushed the door open and saw Zhang Deyou’s face dark and grim. He immediately stepped more lightly. Zhang Deyou was no easygoing man—better to be cautious now, or he’d get yelled at for nothing.

“Factory Director, since three o’clock, calls have been pouring into Sales and Supply, all asking about or preparing to purchase Yugong wine.”

Zhang Deyou’s fingers kept tapping the desk. After a long pause, he asked: “What did you tell them?”

Yan Guohai spoke carefully: “With so many people talking, I told the staff to reply that they didn’t know or weren’t clear.”

He wasn’t stupid. Though he still held considerable prestige in Sales and Supply, the department received no special treatment—salaries were only half-paid.

Moreover, human hearts are unpredictable. If he, like Zhang Deyou, undermined the operation, and word got out, the entire factory workforce would tear him apart. The bosses get full pay, their families eat meat and drink soup, while we starve and freeze at home.

When the wine wasn’t selling, we said nothing. Now that customers are coming to our doors demanding it, and the boss still undermines and refuses to sell—what’s the point? Do you think we won’t bring our whole families to your house for dinner?

“Ding ling…”

The desk phone rang again. Zhang Deyou waved his hand: “Go back. If customers call tomorrow, give them the same reply.”

“Understood!” Yan Guohai turned and left.

Zhang Deyou stared at the phone, took a deep breath, then picked it up.

At the same time, Gao Qingkui was also on the phone, his expression weary: “Old Wu, if you want to drink, I’ll send you two cases tomorrow. But I must tell you—it’s truly Da Gaoliang, not some damn tribute wine… Yes, yes, young people have ideas, we should support them—but this deception breaks my heart. But since things have gone this far, I’ll do everything I can to keep this wine off the market. Even if every worker in our factory starves to death, we won’t deceive the people.”

“Pam!” Gao Qingkui hung up, picked up his enamel mug, stood up, faced the window, and stared at the snow-covered landscape outside. He slowly sipped his tea, his face now grim.

He had never believed Gu Bing and Zhou Andong’s deceitful “tribute wine” could sell, so he hadn’t paid much attention. He only knew they printed wall calendars for advertising—he didn’t know the full marketing plan.

In the past hour, he’d received eight or nine calls—not just from wholesalers, but also two city officials—all asking about Jiangzhou Yugong wine. Suddenly, he realized the situation had slipped beyond his control.

“What exactly happened? What did they do? How did this wine suddenly become known to everyone?”

“Pap pap pap!” The office door was knocked on. Before Gao Qingkui could speak, it swung open and Zhang Deyou strode in.

“Old Factory Director!” Zhang Deyou spoke urgently: “You’ve probably gotten a lot of calls too.”

Gao Qingkui turned around: “Have you paid attention to their movements these past few days?”

Zhang Deyou shook his head: “No. I suspect their wall calendar ads are working. Otherwise, how could so many customers suddenly show up demanding Jiangzhou Yugong?”

“Impossible!” Gao Qingkui spoke with absolute certainty. “Even if the ads had an effect, their impact couldn’t be this massive—not even reaching Old Gu from the provincial supply cooperative.”

Zhang Deyou’s head buzzed. How had everything changed overnight? He couldn’t understand it.

Gao Qingkui said sternly: “Send someone to ask the workers. You’ll probably uncover something. We must know exactly what they’ve done—otherwise we’re too passive. I hate this feeling.”

Zhang Deyou nodded: “I’ll go right away!”

Meanwhile, Zhou Andong, Jiang Yuyue, Gu Bing, Yao Jun, and Wu Xianping were drinking, not breaking up until past seven.

“Need a ride?” Gu Bing opened the door of his 212.

Zhou Andong lit a cigarette, shook his head: “No. Your piece-of-shit car’s too cramped.”

Gu Bing got in: “Then see you later.”

Yao Jun said: “Strange—Zhang Deyou and Gao Qingkui both got Santanas. Why’s Secretary Gu driving this 212?”

Zhou Andong said: “For him, the 212 is more suitable.”

Yao Jun didn’t understand why the 212 suited Gu Bing, but didn’t ask.

“I’m leaving too!” Jiang Yuyue rubbed her hands, then looked up at the sky. Snow still drifted down—light, but falling all day, now thick on the ground.

Zhou Andong looked at Jiang Yuyue’s rosy cheeks: “Let me take you home.”

“No!” Jiang Yuyue said. “If you take me, Mom will see and chop you into slices.”

Zhou Andong rubbed his nose. He’d known meeting Zhao Jianlong would bring trouble for Jiang Yuyue, but he trusted her to handle it, so he hadn’t asked.

“Then take a taxi.” Zhou Andong flagged down a yellow minivan.

Jiang Yuyue got in: “You drank a lot—get home early.”

Zhou Andong waved: “Got it.”

Watching the yellow minivan drive off, Yao Jun chuckled: “Dongge, I feel Yuyue’s got feelings for you…”

“Pam!” Zhou Andong slapped Yao Jun on the head. “Don’t talk nonsense.”

“Brother Zhou!” Wu Xianping pulled out a stack of cash from his pocket. “This is yours. Hope we have more chances to work together.”

Zhou Andong didn’t refuse, took the money, and shook Wu Xianping’s hand: “There’ll definitely be more chances.”