Chapter 322: Tomorrow, Return to the Capital!

A faint warm white just began to spread at the horizon, and the whole Shanwan Village was still shrouded in a thin morning mist.

Lu Qingshan stood under the eaves, wearing only a single shirt; the cool morning wind made his garment's hem flutter slightly.

His gaze seemed to pierce the morning mist and distant hills, and in his mind a map spanning most of the Earth unfurled slowly.

London, New York.

Those financial hubs that would later dominate the world now existed in his mind not as distant names but as coordinates waiting to be conquered. The blueprint he described to his wife and brother‑in‑law last night was not merely comfort and motivation, but his final confirmation of his next move.

This matter carried enormous risk; there was no room for any slip.

A faint rustle came from the courtyard, breaking his thoughts.

Lin Yue'e carried a satchel on her back, while Lin Yueqiang held a small parcel; both moved lightly, fearing to wake anyone.

"Take it slow on the road." Lu Qingshan's voice sounded unusually clear in the silent courtyard.

"Got it." Lin Yue'e turned back and smiled at him, her smile carrying a trace of last night's lingering shock and a comforting warmth.

Lin Yueqiang followed his sister, and when they reached the doorway he couldn't help but glance back at Lu Qingshan, his eyes a tangled mix of admiration, excitement, and a daze from being overwhelmed by great happiness.

Lu Qingshan gave him a slight nod, signaling reassurance.

Only after the ox‑cart's wheels faded into the morning mist at the village entrance did Lu Qingshan withdraw his gaze. He didn't return indoors; instead he began to stroll through the village at an unhurried pace.

Scattered clucks of chickens drifted from afar, and the air was filled with the fresh scent of soil and foliage.

The villagers, upon seeing him, greeted him warmly.

"Qing Shan, up so early?"

"Brother Qing Shan, have you eaten?"

He smiled in turn, his steps finally stopping at the bustling factory canteen entrance, where the aroma of food mixed with steam hit his face.

"Brother Qing Shan!" Zhao Fei carried a large enamel bowl filled with white‑flour mantou and a bowl of millet porridge. Seeing Lu Qingshan, his eyes lit up and he hurried over. "The canteen made meat buns today, fresh out of the steamer; I'll bring you one!"

"No need, I'll just have a little something." Lu Qingshan waved his hand and went to the window to take two mantou and a plate of pickles.

The two found a corner and sat down.

Zhao Fei took a few bites of a mantou, scratched his head, his face showing the youthful thirst for knowledge and a hint of confusion, and asked vaguely, "Brother Qing Shan, our factory is getting better and better, but… I always feel a bit behind. I've read many books, yet they don't match the factory's reality. Take the acidity alkalinity test, for example; the book says it must be precise to two decimal places, but our test strips only give a rough range, so I never feel confident."

Lu Qingshan took a bite of mantou, chewed slowly, and looked into Zhao Fei's eyes, saying calmly, "Books provide the foundation, but real‑world practice is ever‑changing. Don't rush to dismiss what you've read, nor treat it as a decree. What you need to do is break down the book's knowledge, crush it, and combine it with what you see and handle daily in the workshop."

"Take our beverage production line as an example. The book describes a standard procedure, but our herbal batches differ—moisture content, properties, all have subtle variations, so pre‑treatment time and temperature must be adjusted accordingly; that's experience. If you think the test strips are inaccurate, then observe more: when the strips show the same color, what slight differences are there in the resulting liquid's taste? How do the veteran workers judge by experience? Record those, and they become your own knowledge."

Zhao Fei's eyes grew brighter as he listened, forgetting the half‑eaten bun in his hand. In a few words, Lu Qingshan untangled the knot of confusion in his mind.

"I understand, Brother Qing Shan! Theory combined with practice!"

Lu Qingshan patted his shoulder and said no more. Some truths are best left at a hint; one must grasp them oneself.

After breakfast, Lu Qingshan didn't go to the factory; he returned home. Rarely granting himself a break, he lay on the bed and closed his eyes.

His body was relaxed, but his mind raced at an unprecedented speed.

United Kingdom. Thatcher's wave of privatization had begun, and a massive state‑owned behemoth—British Telecom—was about to be floated on the market. The first fortunes of countless future Financial Giant Sharks originated there.

The intricate K-line Charts and myriad economic figures flashed through his mind, each being dissected, analyzed, and recombined. Behind every number lay either a huge opportunity or a bottomless abyss. He had to ensure each of his steps landed on the firmest ground.

This nap was far from deep.

When he opened his eyes again, the sunlight outside had taken on a warm yellow hue, and familiar voices came from the courtyard doorway.

He rolled out of bed, walked into the courtyard, and Lin Yue'e and Lin Yueqiang were just pushing the door in.

"I'm back." His voice carried a hint of morning hoarseness.

"Hmm." Lin Yue'e hurried to his side, reached out to feel his forehead, then his hand. "Why are your hands so cold? Did you not cover the blanket properly?"

"It's fine, just got up." Lu Qingshan grasped her hand, the warm touch instantly steadied his scattered thoughts.

Lin Yueqiang carried a bulging cloth sack, presenting it like a treasure. "Brother‑in‑law, my mother asked me to bring you some of her cured pork and air‑dried chicken."

When the bag was opened, a rich meat aroma wafted out.

Lin Yue'e took the bag, walked toward the kitchen, and reported methodically, "I've settled everything at home and at the factory. I told dad and mom that we'll be going to the Capital City for a while; they're quite happy, and they asked me to tell you not to overexert yourself out there."

"The factory accounts I've already handed over clearly to that girl named Xiao Qin. Earlier there was a raw‑material payment discrepancy with Hongxing Canned Food Factory; I combed through half a year's worth of invoices and found the issue, which left her eyes wide. She got up to speed quickly; I left her a few tough problems, and when we reach the Capital City we can call to check her work."

She spoke with full confidence, already showing the budding shape of the future independent female powerhouse.

Lu Qingshan listened quietly, his gaze gentle. He watched his wife bustling in the kitchen, then glanced at Lin Yueqiang, whose excited face was still reeling from the massive impact of 'Hong Kong Island' and 'United Kingdom' and hadn't fully recovered.

The slight unease born of unknown risk was completely soothed by the thick, homely scent of cooking.

He walked over and said to Lin Yueqiang, "Yueqiang, stay at home tonight."

Lin Yueqiang was startled, then nodded vigorously. "Alright!" He looked at his brother‑in‑law and, unable to hold back, whispered, "Brother‑in‑law… can we really make that much money?"

Lu Qingshan smiled, then turned to Lin Yue'e and said, "I'll go tell Qingjun and the others, and arrange the transport and people."

He paused, looking into his wife's bright eyes, seeing the same resolve and trust there, each word clear and forceful.

"Tomorrow early, we set out, back to the Capital City."