Chapter 180: Wen Leyu

When Li Ye saw Wen Guohua, he always felt that today's gaze was different from usual—smiling with a knowing depth.

"Free today? I've got a few questions I want to chat about—let's find a place to sit."

"Wait a moment—I made plans to have dinner with Xiao Yu. Let's pick her up together."

Li Ye ignored him and dashed off to Building 17; by the time Wen Guohua caught up, he'd already called Wen Leyu down.

Wen Guohua was astonished by how fast his own sister came downstairs—just over a minute.

He really wanted to ask her right then: why did she sleep in all summer, ignoring their mother's three or five calls to come eat, yet now she was so quick?

Seeing Wen Guohua, Wen Leyu was delighted: "Brother, what brings you here today?"

Wen Guohua said: "I've got some business matters to clarify. Didn't you tell Mom that Li Ye is serving as an economic consultant for Pengcheng Factory Seven? That's why I'm here."

Wen Leyu immediately replied: "Pengcheng Factory Seven? Li Ye's just a consultant—ask Jin Peng if you've got questions!"

"I'd love to! But they said all the specific business plans were crafted by this Mr. Li—so who else should I ask?"

Wen Leyu's big eyes flickered several times as she looked at Li Ye; Wen Guohua turned his gaze toward him too, both siblings fixing their eyes on Li Ye.

Li Ye met their gaze calmly, without flinching, and smiled lightly: "Brother, don't use that word 'beg.' Just ask whatever you want—I don't know everything, but I do know Pengcheng Factory Seven."

"Then let's go! Today I'm treating you two to something delicious."

Wen Guohua led the way, taking Wen Leyu and Li Ye to his 212 Jeep, driving south to Chaoyang to a small eatery.

The eatery was tiny, only a few tables, yet the food was surprisingly excellent.

Li Ye dared say that in both his lifetimes combined, he'd never tasted food of this caliber more than a few times.

"The head chef here retired from the state banquet kitchen—you can pay a few yuan and taste imperial cuisine. Not bad, right?"

"Excellent. Later, Brother, go greet the chef—I'll bring Wen Leyu here whenever I've got time."

"Mmm, Brother, go tell the chef."

Wen Leyu, eating quickly, directed her own brother.

Wen Guohua nearly laughed in exasperation—his sister wasn't even married yet, and already she was following her husband's lead?

But seeing Wen Leyu's little glance, he went to the kitchen anyway—otherwise, a small client like Li Ye might not even be served.

After Wen Guohua left, Wen Leyu whispered to Li Ye: "Don't be afraid—some questions only Mom can ask you. My brother won't."

Li Ye looked into Wen Leyu's eyes and sighed: "I never planned to hide anything. I'm not breaking rules or laws—ask me anything you want."

Wen Leyu waved her small hand: "No need—we trust you."

Wen Leyu waved her small hand: "No need, we trust you."

When Wen Guohua returned, he patiently watched Li Ye and Wen Leyu eat, even complimenting her increased appetite.

Only when both had nearly finished did Wen Guohua begin the real talk.

He first recounted Jin Peng's bold statements at the negotiation meeting, then asked Li Ye: "I don't know if he was just talking nonsense or truly ambitious—can you analyze how feasible this really is?"

Li Ye didn't hesitate: "Pengcheng Factory Seven's long-term goal is indeed to export and earn foreign exchange—Jin Peng wasn't wrong. I also think Xiushui Street has tremendous potential."

"But over the next two years, Pengcheng Factory Seven must still heavily develop its domestic market and build up strength—otherwise, how will it have the capital to go abroad?"

Wen Guohua said: "So all of Pengcheng Factory Seven's business moves are your doing?"

Li Ye nodded: "Yes. I treat Pengcheng Factory Seven as my social practice project—to test economic and commercial theories. So far, the results are acceptable."

"Your 'acceptable results' are far too modest," Wen Guohua chuckled. "You weren't at the meeting today—Jin Peng dropped a bombshell, posting a one-million-yuan deposit."

"And he didn't ask for anything in return. Aren't you afraid you're just making someone else's wedding gift?"

Li Ye looked at Wen Guohua strangely: "Brother, I only proposed this idea because I saw your name on the renovation team list—you wouldn't let us get cheated, right?"

"So you thought we were selfless, willing to contribute to Beijing?"

Wen Guohua finally straightened up, smiling: "I've looked into Pengcheng Factory Seven—it's practically a model enterprise."

"Well-managed, taxes paid properly, top-tier employee benefits, responsive to higher directives. I can't imagine if every unit operated like yours—what would we even worry about?"

"Today I asked Jin Peng what difficulties or demands you had—he told me straight to come ask you."

"I figured if you didn't speak up, I wouldn't even know where to start helping you—how to secure benefits or resolve hidden troubles. If that happened, we'd dare not take your money!"

Something strange was afoot—Pengcheng Factory Seven's behavior today was unusual. Not everyone could see the potential of private enterprise, so Wen Guohua's visit carried a hint of official interest.

Li Ye blinked: "Brother, if after renovation we could get more storefronts and stalls allocated to us, that would be ideal."

"Also, I believe Xiushui Market should take on the role of distributing light industry goods across the entire north. When future exchange events happen, don't forget Pengcheng Factory Seven's contributions!"

Moreover, I believe the Xiushui Market should take on the responsibility of radiating wholesale light industry across the entire north; when future exchange events or other such opportunities arise, you can't possibly forget today's contributions from Pengcheng Factory Seven!"

Wen Guohua studied Li Ye with a smile: "You've got quite the appetite—I'm relieved. Otherwise I'd have thought you were a fool. Hehehe."

Wen Guohua laughed freely, but halfway through, he stopped—Wen Leyu's face had begun to darken with anger.

Wen Guohua laughed freely, but halfway through, he stopped—because a faint anger had already surfaced on Wen Leyu's small face.

"Alright, alright," Wen Guohua said, "no matter what, I guarantee your dowry won't be stolen—happy now?"

"Alright, here's the plan for our Xiushui Street renovation. Originally, I had the idea and meant to discuss it with you, but the unit assigned someone else."

Wen Leyu kicked her small foot hard at Wen Guohua, making him burst into laughter.

Wen Guohua pulled out a stack of documents and asked Li Ye to review them.

Jin Peng stood outside the Xiushui Street storefront, smoking as he watched several retired soldiers from home perform "single-hand brick smashing."

Three red bricks were stacked on a stool; with a "hey-ha!" they shattered into six pieces, drawing cheers from nearby vendors.

Pengcheng Factory Seven's rapid rise on Xiushui Street had stirred envy and jealousy—how many days had passed since the blood in the alley was washed away? That's why Li Ye urgently sent his grandfather's men.

After Hong Shu arrived, they first posted guards inside the store day and night, then occasionally demonstrated their skills at the entrance—to scare people off.

In the 1980s, hard qigong still impressed—breaking bottles on TV variety shows had a real shocking effect.

An old man selling sweet potatoes approached, trading a small piece of potato for one of Jin Peng's good cigarettes.

"Manager Jin, is the commercial renovation off the table? Why hasn't anything happened since that one meeting?"

"How would I know? Maybe it's off the table."

Jin Peng laughed, dodging the question.

The fundraising meeting had appeared a failure—besides Pengcheng Factory Seven's dubious bombshell, no one else supported it.

Then the street authority had gone silent, as if abandoning the matter entirely.

But the truth was, Pengcheng Factory Seven had funded everything themselves—even secured loans. Come spring, construction would begin.

These past few days, Hou Boss's group had regained their strength, resuming clothing sales and launching a price war to challenge Pengcheng Factory Seven again.

Jin Peng didn't bother with them—after this year, half of Xiushui Street would be under his control. What right did a bunch of smugglers have to compete with him?

Thinking back to half a year ago, when that Mr. Duo had declared, "I run this Xiushui area," Jin Peng almost laughed.

The real person in charge never says they're in charge.

"Manager Jin, phone call for you—from Yangcheng."

Someone inside the store called out—Pengcheng Factory Seven was thriving, and the Xiushui storefront now had a telephone.

Jin Peng swallowed the sweet potato whole and ran over to answer.

Since Wen Guohua had researched Pengcheng Factory Seven and knew that Li Ye, Jin Peng, and Hao Jian had all been unemployed drifters in Qingshui County just a year ago, a little deduction revealed they were affiliated.

Jin Peng had become wildly successful in Jingcheng, and now he was meddling in Xiushui Street's commercial district; wealth stirs the heart, and Wen Guohua could clearly see the hidden dangers.

But today, Wen Guohua had even offered to help resolve the hidden troubles—Li Ye didn't speak up, so how could he rush to volunteer?

Wen Leyu tilted her small head, staring fixedly at Wen Guohua, her expression solemn and silent.

Wen Guohua instantly understood, chuckling: "Alright, alright—no matter what, I guarantee no one will steal your dowry, okay?"

"What are you talking about?"

Wen Leyu lifted her small foot and kicked Wen Guohua hard, making him burst into laughter.

Jin Peng stood outside the Xiushui Street storefront, smoking while watching several retired soldiers from his hometown perform "single-hand brick smashing."

A stack of three red bricks was placed on a stool; with a "hey-ha!" they were smashed into six pieces, drawing cheers from nearby vendors.

Pengcheng Factory Seven's rapid rise on Xiushui Street wasn't without envy or jealousy—how many days had passed since the blood in the alley next door was washed away? That's why Li Ye urgently sent his grandfather's men over.

After Uncle Hong arrived with his men, they first stationed guards inside the storefront day and night, then occasionally demonstrated their skills at the entrance—to scare people off first.

In the 1980s, hard qigong was still quite intimidating—people could smash wine bottles on TV variety shows; it certainly had some deterrent effect.

The old man selling sweet potatoes came over and traded a small piece of potato for one of Jin Peng's good cigarettes.

"Manager Jin, has the commercial renovation project been scrapped? Why hasn't anything happened since that one meeting?"

"How would I know? Maybe it's been scrapped!"

Jin Peng laughed and dodged the old man's question.

The fundraising meeting that day appeared to be a complete failure—besides Pengcheng Factory Seven's vague, unverified satellite claim, no one else offered support.

Then the street authority seemed to give up entirely, no longer mentioning the matter.

But the real situation was that Pengcheng Factory Seven alone provided all the funding—even the loans were secured—and construction would begin next spring after this winter.

These past few days, Hou Boss and his crew had regained their strength and resumed selling clothing, even launching a collective price war to challenge Pengcheng Factory Seven again.

Jin Peng didn't even bother with them—once this year passed, half of Xiushui Street would be under his control; what right did a bunch of smugglers have to compete with him?

Thinking back to half a year ago, when that Mr. Duo had declared, "I run this Xiushui area," Jin Peng almost laughed.

The real person in charge never says he's in charge!

"Manager Jin, you've got a call—from Yangcheng."

Someone suddenly came out of the storefront calling for Jin Peng—Pengcheng Factory Seven was thriving, and the Xiushui storefront now had a telephone installed.

Jin Peng swallowed the sweet potato whole and jogged over to answer the call.

"Hello, Old Hao! What's up? Got something to say?"

"."

"What did you say?"

In an instant, Jin Peng, who had just been beaming, grew grim and terrifying.

Late update, sorry sorry

(End of chapter)