Chapter 179: If You Want to Take It All, Just Say So

Jin Peng slept poorly all night, memorizing every issue Li Ye had raised and every response strategy countless times, afraid he'd be caught off guard during tomorrow's meeting.

But the moment he arrived at Xiushuijie for the meeting, he encountered a problem Li Ye had never mentioned.

A group of individual vendors had blocked the entrance to the venue.

Many of them were people Jin Peng recognized.

Pengcheng Factory Seven had opened its market on Xiushuijie and occasionally ran discount promotions, which also allowed nearby street vendors selling needles and thread, repairing shoes, or roasting sweet potatoes to get a taste of the profits.

Seeing Jin Peng approach, Wang Laohan, the sweet potato vendor, warmly greeted him and casually wrapped a roasted sweet potato in a newspaper for him.

"Manager Jin, are you here to demand an explanation, or to attend the meeting?"

Jin Peng took the sweet potato and bit into it, hissing and puffing as it burned, then grinned and asked back: "What do you think I'm here for?"

"Heh, I shouldn't have asked that," Wang Laohan chuckled. "You're from a proper unit—you're here by invitation, unlike us folks with no parents or clan."

"What do you mean 'no parents or clan'?" Jin Peng laughed. "I remember you have Beijing household registration—your neighborhood is your nianjia. Honestly, I'm the outsider with no roots here!"

"Manager Jin, you're teasing me, you're teasing me."

Wang Laohan waved his hand. "Sure, I've got Beijing hukou, but who in the neighborhood actually treats me like anyone? You'll at least get a seat inside."

"That's not the same. If I ever have a son, I can't get him into a Beijing school—but your grandson gets a quota the moment he's born."

"That's about the only advantage," Wang Laohan said, feeling a little better, a genuine smile finally appearing on his weathered face.

Jin Peng finished the sweet potato in a few bites and asked quietly: "Old Wang, what exactly are you all gathered here for?"

"We're acquaintances—I'm warning you, don't be foolish. I heard the district sent people today. Don't make trouble for the neighborhood now—you know you can't fight the big guys."

"We wouldn't dare cause trouble!" Wang Laohan exclaimed. "We just heard Xiushuijie's getting redeveloped—where will we set up our stalls then?"

"Sure, we don't earn much each day, but if the household income drops even a little, life gets harder, right?"

Wang Laohan nodded toward the west and whispered: "We're just here to hear the news. If we have to move, I'll find another spot—but those folks over there are truly desperate."

Jin Peng looked west and saw mostly vendors selling general merchandise along Xiushuijie.

Unlike Wang Laohan, who barely scraped together a few coins, they'd all quietly grown rich thanks to the era's winds—some had even amassed over ten thousand yuan.

They all knew Jin Peng, the "outsider" who'd hit the jackpot, but when their eyes met his, their expressions turned hostile.

They'd all sourced goods from Boss Hou, formed a tight-knit group, and lived comfortably on Xiushuijie—until this outsider Jin Peng came along, broke the rules, and stole their business with discount sales.

Boss Hou, from the south, was rich and loud, always bragging—but now he'd instantly caved and shifted to niche operations.

Pengcheng Factory Seven mainly sold clothing and hats; Boss Hou's group sold electronics and general goods. At least on the surface, they didn't interfere with each other.

But now, vendors who'd once profited from clothing saw their monthly earnings shrink drastically—and they resented Pengcheng Factory Seven for it.

But what could they do?

And the "righteous" Mr. Duo had already fallen—he didn't even know where he was now, eating free state rations.

The infamous Heng San, once feared on the streets, had twenty-odd men beaten to a pulp by Pengcheng Factory Seven's crew, then all ended up in the hospital with handcuffs on their wrists.

Isn't that clear enough?

Pengcheng Factory Seven isn't some backwater bumpkin—it's a dragon crossing the river.

"They say you're colluding to monopolize Xiushuijie's business and cut off people's livelihoods."

Wang Laohan whispered: "I heard from Big Liu from the back alley that the big boss from the south wanted to join today's negotiation meeting, but got turned down—so all these guys who depend on him came here to petition."

"Petition? They don't even deserve to."

"Have they paid taxes? Fine, small vendors earn little—but Boss Hou makes a fortune, keeps it all in his pocket—why should he get the same treatment as us?"

Jin Peng sneered, wiped the sweet potato dust from his lips, and walked toward the neighborhood office's meeting hall with his head held high.

Though the courtyard outside was packed with squatting vendors, two officers guarded the entrance—no one dared shout a word.

Jin Peng showed his invitation and was finally let in.

In that instant, a sense of superiority rose in him.

Pengcheng Factory Seven and Boss Hou were essentially doing the same business: buying low and selling high, bordering on speculation.

But now, Jin Peng, Manager Jin, could walk in openly to the meeting, while the wealthy Boss Hou could only squat outside, staring in envy.

That was the difference.

At first, Jin Peng didn't understand Li Ye's insistence on paying taxes—he'd worked hard for every penny, why should he give it away?

Even when tax officials came to collect from Pengcheng Factory Seven, they were surprised by its "proper attitude."

But now he saw: those taxes weren't paid in vain.

Li Ye had told him: "Major taxpayers live openly under the sun; tax evaders hide in cold, dark shadows."

But Jin Peng's sense of superiority lasted only minutes.

Once inside the meeting hall, he was assigned to a corner seat, while the front rows were filled with important figures.

In this setting, Pengcheng Factory Seven was truly a tiny shrimp.

"To standardize the chaos on Xiushuijie and create a better commercial environment, we plan to raise funds for its renovation."

"All of you are retail experts—you can see the bright future of Xiushuijie, so don't be so reserved!"

After the chairperson delivered his usual platitudes, he urged everyone to generously contribute to Xiushuijie's commercial transformation.

But the attendees all frowned and remained silent.

Because from the "plan document" they'd received, they realized the renovation was far bolder than expected.

They'd assumed it would just mean repaving the street and setting up a few open-air stalls to accommodate a hundred or two hundred small vendors.

They'd invest a little, assign some of their own unit's struggling or connected families to stalls, charge negligible stall fees—no real impact on themselves.

But now it was clear: this plan was massive—not just open-air stalls, but multi-story commercial buildings, requiring a huge sum of funding.

They didn't know that, historically, Xiushuijie in 1985 had been a "basic version" of two or three hundred open-air stalls, managed with a laissez-faire attitude.

But Li Ye had merely chatted with Wen Guohua—and raised the scale several levels, boldly piloting fundraising methods that wouldn't be tried for years.

This step was too big.

Jin Peng peered over the shoulders of attendees toward the podium and spotted Wen Guohua of the renovation team.

Wen Guohua was just a "staff member," but Jin Peng, who'd been in Beijing long enough, understood the subtle implications of his seating.

But when Jin Peng saw the tax department representative, the man smiled faintly and exchanged a glance with him.

Jin Peng suddenly shivered.

Though Jin Peng often lost ground to Li Ye, that was mainly due to his limited perspective—he was actually very sharp, or he wouldn't have managed such a large operation and thrived in Beijing.

That single glance from the man now unlocked dozens of insights.

Why invite Pengcheng Factory Seven, an outsider? Why send bank representatives to offer loans?

They wanted him to be the spearhead—no, to set the example.

You don't realize how small your rank is until you come to Beijing—any random commercial unit could pull out several bureau-level cadres.

Even if Beijing's neighborhood office was one level higher than those in other cities, here it couldn't command respect—if the meeting went cold, they'd lose face.

Especially since Xiushuijie's renovation favored individual vendors.

Many attendees were from large malls—they had money, but they despised this individual-vendor business model.

In their view, all individual vendors should be abolished; customers should only shop in their own malls and buildings.

Then Pengcheng Factory Seven, with its strong individual-vendor character, stood out perfectly.

Or perhaps they'd already seen through you—you're just an individual vendor?

【Little Ye never told me this—I'm being used to stir up trouble!】

Jin Peng felt uneasy. He'd just finalized "tenancy" with Xicheng Department Store and established connections with several other commercial entities—the situation had been smooth.

Now, stepping forward to "set an example"—wasn't that too arrogant?

Sure enough, when the leaders saw no one speak, they directly called on Jin Peng.

"Don't be shy! This is just a negotiation meeting, not a kidnapping—no money? Even giving advice is fine!"

"You, the young man in the back—I've seen you holding back for ages. Say something!"

Where did you see me holding back?

Jin Peng put on a smiling, humble expression: "Pengcheng Factory Seven is small; we don't understand Beijing well—we have no suggestions."

"Don't be nervous. Speak plainly. You've been doing great in Beijing! Foreign monks chant well—tell us, let everyone learn from each other."

Under the circumstances, Jin Peng had no choice but to follow Li Ye's script.

"Then let me state my position," Jin Peng smiled modestly. "We'll pay a deposit first. After the neighborhood allocates the stalls, just give us a share. If funds are short, we'll take a loan."

This posture was extremely low.

Fellow vendors all thought Jin Peng was sensible, knowing to wait for the last spoonful of soup.

"Hahaha, young man, you're refreshingly straightforward! That's the attitude of someone who gets things done—no wonder we keep hearing about you!"

The chairperson was delighted—Jin Peng hadn't danced around; he'd put up real money. Cash spoke louder than any suggestion.

He suddenly remembered something and asked with a smile: "How much is your deposit? You've got to give a number."

All eyes turned to Jin Peng. Under pressure, he raised one finger and grinned like a simple-minded youth.

"Ten thousand? That's a bit stingy! Young man, be bold!"

The chairperson was disappointed but still smiled—Jin Peng's performance was acceptable.

But the next moment, Jin Peng sheepishly said: "No, we can offer a one-million-yuan deposit."

"."

Fuck~

After a brief silence, someone muttered a curse under their breath.

With the figure "one million" out, Jin Peng's earlier "low posture" now looked like pure deception—playing the fool to eat the tiger.

Xiushuijie is such a small area—why throw in a million in cash right away? Won't you need more loans after that?

If you just want to monopolize it, say so outright—we'll clear space for you, won't we?

But if you're a shill, heh heh.

Even the man on stage asked again, puzzled: "You—you're Xiao Jin, right? When you say a million, do you mean including the loan, or that… deposit?"

A million in 1982 might be just paper to a state bank, but to a company, it's a huge sum.

"It's a deposit. We have great confidence in the Xiushuijie project—it's close to the embassy district, with many foreign friends. We believe Xiushuijie could become a window to the outside world, at least helping us understand what foreign products people like."

Jin Peng spoke with firm certainty, since the expressions of many in the room suggested they thought he was a shill, joking or talking nonsense.

"Though our Pengcheng Seventh Factory is small, our ambition isn't. We're still only operating domestically, but we hope one day to sell our products overseas—to let those with yellow hair see that our Huazhong goods are just as good."

"Hahahahaha~"

"What big dreams young people have!"

"Hey, this young comrade does have courage, even if his appetite is a bit too big."

"These days, people get all excited at the prospect of earning foreign exchange, but they have no idea how hard it is behind the scenes!"

Jin Peng was stunned, angry, and felt an urge to retort.

When Li Ye had said this to him before, Jin Peng had sometimes noticed Li Ye's flickering gaze; though he felt some resonance, he hadn't fully agreed.

After all, he always thought: as a nobody just out of Qingshui County, was it too presumptuous to talk about such things?

But now, Jin Peng felt a fierce sense of resentment and determination.

Look around—everyone sitting here has a pen stuck in their shirt pocket. How timid are they? Just hearing about making money from foreigners, and they lose their nerve?

Others make money from us—why can't we make money from foreigners?

In that instant, Jin Peng suddenly understood the "ambition" in Li Ye.

"The rise and fall of the nation rests on every common man—even an illiterate martial artist knows 'to uphold our national prestige'!"

We have money now, we have people—why can't we match wits with the foreigners?

"Clap clap clap~"

The man on stage suddenly clapped lightly—his sound was quiet, but it silenced all the murmurs.

"What's wrong with young people having ideas? Is it really that funny?"

Everyone fell silent. Mocking Jin Peng was fine, but mocking this man above? Not something to joke about.

"Xiao Jin, when can your million be in place?"

"Today—we've confirmed with the bank: we have a million in our account, and they're willing to lend us more at 6. % interest, a substantial amount."

Jin Peng was no longer the street boss of Qingshui County—he quickly adjusted his emotions and answered seriously.

"6. % interest? Comrade Wen, go liaise with Comrade Jin and see if you can offer some assistance."

Wen Guohua nodded and stood up, leading Jin Peng directly out of the meeting hall.

Outside the hall, Jin Peng finally felt the tightness in his chest ease. He reached for a cigarette, but Wen Guohua beat him to it, offering one first.

Jin Peng quickly took it, then lit it for Wen Guohua first.

Wen Guohua took a drag and asked Jin Peng: "Were those things you just said just off the top of your head—or do you have a detailed plan?"

Jin Peng smiled. "I'm not sure. But we have an economic advisor—if you want to know more, you can talk to him."

Wen Guohua looked at Jin Peng and couldn't help smiling. "Alright. I'll first discuss the loan interest with you, then go talk to this Li advisor."

"The loan interest is fine—we've confirmed it," Jin Peng said firmly.

"The highest loan interest is 7. %—are you sure you want the 6. % one?"

"."

Jin Peng automatically smiled and rubbed his scalp.

"As long as they dare to lend, I dare to use it."

"Did your economic advisor say that?"

"Heh heh."

Jin Peng smiled without speaking. Your aura naturally dominates—I've got nothing to say to you.

If you've got questions, ask your future brother-in-law directly.

Feeling under the weather, updating late again—please forgive any typos; I'm still editing.

(End of Chapter)