Chapter 301: A Whole New Era! Once Begging, Now an Honored Guest!

After about twenty minutes, the door was gently knocked.

Lu Qingjun and Lu Fang, like startled rabbits, sprang up from the sofa in an instant, anxiously watching the doorway.

Lu Qingshan walked over and opened the door.

Standing outside the door was Secretary Wang, and beside him, a medium‑built, steady‑faced, resolute middle‑aged man.

The man appeared to be about fifty, dressed in a crisp, deep‑blue Zhongshan suit, his hair meticulously combed, eyes bright and spirited, exuding authority without anger.

He bore no overbearing official airs, yet possessed a powerful aura that naturally develops in those long accustomed to high positions.

He was the Baishan Municipal Party Committee Secretary, Zhang Zhidong.

"Comrade Lu Qingshan, welcome to Baishan."

Zhang Zhidong extended his hand proactively, his face bearing a gentle smile.

"Secretary Zhang, you are too courteous; it should be me who comes to visit you."

Lu Qingshan grasped his hand, neither servile nor arrogant.

Their hands clasped, a silent affirmation.

"Hahaha, it's different now."

Zhang Zhidong strode into the room, his gaze sweeping around before settling on Lu Fang and Lu Qingjun, smiling and nodding.

"This must be Comrade Lu Fang, the person in charge of the Xinghan Specialty Market, right? And this young comrade, I presume, is Comrade Lu Qingjun."

His voice was resonant and clear, carrying a persuasive force.

Lu Fang felt her mind go instantly blank, and instinctively reached out to lightly shake Zhang Zhidong's hand.

"Zhang... Secretary Zhang, hello."

Her voice was a little strained.

Lu Qingjun also hurried forward a step, respectfully calling out, "Hello, Secretary Zhang."

"Please sit, make yourselves comfortable; today we won't discuss official matters, just meet as friends and chat casually."

Zhang Zhidong sat on the main sofa, his posture relaxed.

Secretary Wang took out his notebook and fountain pen, sitting on the small stool beside him, ready to take notes.

Lu Qingshan poured water for both Zhang Zhidong and Secretary Wang, the steam swirling, then sat on the opposite sofa.

"Comrade Lu, I've first heard about the Xinghan Specialty Market you opened in Beijing; I hear the business is booming, even the capital's citizens can't stop praising it," Zhang Zhidong lifted his teacup, gently blew on it, and did not rush to the main point.

"Thanks to the blessings of our hometown's fine mountain products, everyone likes them; that can be considered as paving a path for Baishan specialties," Lu Qingshan replied modestly.

"Paving a path? That's not paving, that's blazing a trail!" Zhang Zhidong set down his cup, leaning slightly forward, "Later, Minister Lin of the Ministry of Agriculture called me personally, highly praising your 'Shanwan Model'."

He directly pointed out the official background of this meeting.

"He said you possess a Midas technique that can turn green mountains and clear waters into gold and silver mountains, and I must learn from you thoroughly."

Lu Qingshan said calmly, "Minister Lin has overpraised me. I am merely a farmer's son, raised on this land, doing what I ought to do."

"'Farmer's son'—well said!" Zhang Zhidong's eyes flashed with admiration. "We Baishan, guarding the treasure of Changbai Mountain, have abundant good products—ginseng, deer antler, wood ear, mushrooms... each one makes a splash when taken out. Yet why are ordinary people's lives still tight? It's because our good goods cannot get out!" his tone carried a hint of pain.

"Therefore, when I heard you were coming to Baishan, bringing capital, channels, and a grand plan, I was genuinely delighted, on behalf of all the city's people, to welcome you back!"

Lu Fang listened beside them, her emotions surging. She watched Secretary Zhang's sincere gaze, heard his earnest words, and compared them to the repeatedly circled "Section Chief Liu" in her notebook, her ultimate goal, suddenly feeling deeply embarrassed. She was still racking her brain over how to open a single department's connection, while her brother already sat opposite the municipal party secretary, discussing blueprints that could change the city's fate.

Her own scope, compared to her brother's, was a world apart.

Lu Qingshan laid out his plan in full; he spoke slowly, but with clear logic, each link considered thoroughly and in detail.

"... First, standards. We can no longer mix good and bad as before and sell them uniformly. I propose establishing a three‑tier quality‑control system, with clear, quantifiable standards from source picking, sun‑drying and roasting, to sorting and packaging. Tier‑one products should meet or even exceed export standards; tier‑two should supply high‑end markets of major cities nationwide; tier‑three should satisfy ordinary consumption. Different grades, different prices, letting the best goods fetch the best price."

"Second, branding. Scattered vendors can't go far; we must integrate the city's premium specialties under the name of Xinghan Group and the Baishan municipal government, jointly creating a unified top‑level brand called 'Baishan Zhenpin.' Henceforth, only products meeting our tier‑one standards will qualify for this label."

"Finally, the platform, the most critical step. We must build a national platform linking production and sales. It's not just selling goods, but providing service. Every batch of 'Baishan Zhenpin' will receive a unique identifier, recording its origin, harvest time, and quality‑control supervisor. This is not only a guarantee of quality but a promise to consumers."

Zhang Zhidong listened with great attention, from an initial nod to later leaning his whole body forward, while Secretary Wang's pen tip scribbled faster and faster.

His smile grew ever broader.

"Comrade Lu, this plan is not a small venture; it's a truly grand undertaking, a large‑scale vision!" Zhang Zhidong slapped his thigh, standing up abruptly.

"You're right; we can't just be mountain‑goods sellers. We need our own brand, our own standards! This 'three‑tier quality‑control', this 'Baishan Zhenpin', and that 'product identifier'—they're too deep, too far! This matter is of immense significance for Baishan!"

He stood up and paced the room excitedly for two steps.

"Whatever support you need, just ask! Land, policies, manpower—whatever the Baishan municipal party committee and government can provide, we will not hold back! Baishan will offer 100% Sincerity to make this cooperation happen. Our municipal party committee and government need time to digest this plan; tomorrow I will convene staff for a discussion."

These words rang out like a decree. It was no longer a negotiation but a statement—a solemn commitment from Baishan's top leader to Lu Qingshan and Xinghan Group.

After seeing off Zhang Zhidong and Secretary Wang, the room fell into prolonged silence.

Lu Fang slowly slumped on the sofa, feeling as if she had run a marathon, her whole body exhausted.

Lu Qingjun walked to the window, gazing at the frost‑laden pine in the guesthouse courtyard, silent for a long while. His heart also roiled; his brother's blueprint far exceeded his own notion of merely 'doing trade for profit.' It was an empire of industry, a grand concept that could alter countless destinies. For the first time he clearly felt that even if he ran desperately, he might not keep pace with his brother.

Lu Qingshan walked to the window, standing shoulder to shoulder with his younger brother.

His gaze crossed the courtyard wall, looking toward the city that was gradually lighting up in the dusk.

The last time he stayed here was when, under the recommendation of County Secretary Zhang Xincheng, he anxiously awaited an audience, hoping to secure a modest policy tilt for Shanwan Village. Back then, Zhang Zhidong seemed an unattainable figure in his eyes.

But now, times have changed.

He returned here again, yet had become a guest capable of bringing change to the city.

He was no longer a petitioner. He came to offer opportunity, to create a future as a collaborator.

This shift in identity brought not arrogance, but a heavy sense of responsibility.

What he must do is not merely make money, but fulfill the uncompleted wish of the soul tormented by regret in his past life.

He wants this black soil he once lived on to burst forth with new vitality.