Chapter 38

Gu Bing had his feet propped up on his desk, listlessly watching Jian Qiu, who sat on the sofa across from him.

“You showed up at my door banging on it before seven, didn’t even let me eat breakfast, and dragged me straight to the office. Fine, you came—but if you’ve got something to say, just say it! Instead, you just sit there sipping tea and drank an entire thermos dry.”

Gu Bing opened his mouth wide and yawned. “I’m not your brother anymore. From now on, I’m your little brother, big sister, my dear big sister—what the hell do you want from me?”

Jian Qiu sat with one leg crossed over the other, her long, supple, sexy legs tightly encased in jeans. The raised foot revealed a smooth, pale heel, while her toes dangled a high heel back and forth.

Jian Qiu lifted her eyelids slightly, set the teacup she’d been cradling on the coffee table, then leaned back with her arms crossed. “To be honest—who planned the marketing for Jiangzhou Yugong?”

Gu Bing threw his head back, face flushed with anger. “I’ve told you a hundred times—the reform was my idea, the marketing plan was mine. Why won’t you believe me?”

Jian Qiu picked up the teacup again but didn’t drink. She just held it, staring at a newspaper laid out on the table, ignoring Gu Bing entirely.

Seeing Jian Qiu’s expression, Gu Bing deflated like a punctured balloon. He raised both hands. “I surrender, I surrender! The new packaging, the new name, the mid-to-high-end positioning, the whole marketing scheme—it was all planned by Zhou Andong.”

Jian Qiu raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

She herself didn’t believe the reform would succeed—but unlike others, she had no objection to the idea of building a new brand and targeting the mid-to-high-end market, because she saw it as the only way to save the distillery. Yet building a new brand wasn’t just about swapping out a pretty package or picking a catchy name.

You had to make consumers aware of the product—and make them willing to buy it. That required massive investment in promotion. But the distillery couldn’t even pay its workers’ salaries. Without municipal support, this plan was a joke.

Worse still, the biggest obstacle wasn’t money—it was Gao Qingkui and Zhang Deyou, those two roadblocks. They controlled every sales channel. They’d never let Gu Bing rise; they’d do everything in their power to crush him, ensuring not a single bottle sold.

So she suspected the person who proposed this plan had ulterior motives—trying to set Gu Bing up for failure. And very likely, that person was planted by Gao Qingkui and Zhang Deyou, waiting to use the reform’s collapse as an excuse to kick Gu Bing out of the distillery.

She knew Gu Bing’s character well—he was the dumb son of a landlord, interested in nothing but eating, drinking, and fun. Without someone egging him on, the idea of reform would never have entered his head.

She’d heard it was that college kid, Zhou Andong, who had convinced Gu Bing. But when she questioned him, Gu Bing’s reaction enraged her—he accused her of looking down on him, claimed the reform plan was entirely his own, and even complained to her mother, who scolded her.

That confirmed one thing for her: Gu Bing was the old Buddha’s nephew, while she, her own daughter, might as well be a stepchild. After that, she stopped caring. Let Gu Bing, the landlord’s fool, move somewhere else—he’d always be a deadweight wherever he went.

But yesterday afternoon, a piece of news stunned her completely: the sales hotline at the Supply and Marketing Department was ringing off the hook, all calls asking about or ordering Yugong liquor. She immediately realized she’d missed something, grabbed the phone, and called her subordinates to find out what was happening.

Amid the chaotic reports, she found a complete marketing plan. As she studied it deeper, she realized the campaign so far had only aimed to build awareness—to make retailers, wholesalers, and enterprises—the mid-to-high-end consumer groups—aware of Jiangzhou Yugong liquor.

She lay awake all night. What she now understood about the marketing strategy was like a powerful array, trapping Gao Qingkui and Zhang Deyou inside. But defeating them was unlikely—they held the divine artifact of distribution channels. So she believed the one who set this array must also possess another divine artifact, one capable of delivering the final, fatal blow.

She just didn’t know what that divine artifact was, or when it would be unleashed. So she turned it over and over in her mind: if she had designed this marketing plan herself, how would she break the deadlock?

And then there was the staff meeting Gu Bing held this morning. Before, she’d assumed he was just buying loyalty. Now, she knew there was something deeper she hadn’t yet seen.

She’d thought all night and still didn’t understand. Restless and impatient, she got up early, went straight to Gu Bing’s house, dragged him to the office, and said nothing—just applied pressure, making him anxious. Sure enough, men needed pressure—otherwise, they’d never utter a single truth.

Gu Bing snapped, “Believe it or not!”

Jian Qiu smirked and set the teacup down again. “Tell me every detail of your plan.”

Gu Bing sighed helplessly. He’d hoped that if the reform succeeded, he could show off to his family. Now it was clear that show-off was off the table. So he reluctantly laid out the entire plan, in meticulous detail.

“Impressive.”

Jian Qiu uttered two words. The Jiangzhou Yugong liquor had already been sent up the chain and added to the list of consolation gifts. Once the newspapers came out, the power of this divine artifact would be immense. Add to that the trap Gu Bing set for Zhang Deyou and Gao Qingkui during the morning staff meeting—they’d have no choice but to walk right into it.

Jian Qiu sighed again. “Every step looks like a joke—but each one is carefully calculated, reading people’s minds perfectly. Amazing.”

Gu Bing grinned. “So? Isn’t my strategist awesome?”

Jian Qiu nodded. “One thing I don’t understand—why, if he’s this talented, has he been silent and inactive for years?”

Gu Bing shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

“Knock knock knock…”

The office door suddenly banged open. Before Gu Bing could speak, Zhou Andong walked in. “Leaders, business has arrived.”

Zhou Andong immediately spotted Jian Qiu on the sofa and froze. He knew her—the chairwoman of the factory union. In fact, since his layoff over twenty years ago, this woman had remained etched in his memory.

She was simply too beautiful. In his entire past life, every woman he’d ever seen—TV stars, movie actresses, noble ladies—fewer than ten could match her in grace or appearance.

Jian Qiu hadn’t expected Zhou Andong to barge in right after knocking. Sitting on the sofa, she was momentarily stunned.

Zhou Andong’s gaze naturally fell to Jian Qiu’s legs—especially the foot dangling the high heel. It was freezing outside, yet this woman wore no socks, just bare feet in thin shoes. Truly, beautiful and freezing.