Chapter 218: The Era

Wang Luyang urgently contacted Jin Peng, who then urgently contacted Li Ye.

"Little Ye, someone asked me over to discuss matters—come with me!"

"Why should I go with you? You're the head of Pengcheng Seventh Factory's Beijing office."

"But from what Wang Luyang implied, several major units and government agencies are interested in our products—they're way too high-level, and I'm afraid I won't understand anything and mess it up."

"High-level?" Li Ye said, puzzled. "You're not stealing, not robbing, not lying or cheating—you've got official credentials, full tax records, fair trade, deal if it makes sense, walk away if it doesn't—what does rank have to do with it?"

"You—"

Jin Peng was silenced by Li Ye's words, but two years ago, he was still a street boss who'd turn and run at the sight of a police station chief.

Now facing a bunch of Beijing "officials," just keeping a calm face was already impressive—wasn't it normal to feel nervous inside?

Li Ye sensed Jin Peng's unease and softly advised: "Brother Peng, you're not that unemployed vagrant anymore. You started selling candy floss dealing with secondhand peddlers,

then moved into clothing and dealt with railway and mall departments, then joined the Xiushuijie development meetings—you're already a qualified enterprise leader, don't underestimate yourself."

"I'm not underestimating myself."

Jin Peng couldn't help scratching his scalp and grinned: "I'm just afraid if I miss this golden chance, it'll be such a waste—we've come this far, it wasn't easy."

"If you miss it, miss it—treat it as tuition," Li Ye said firmly. "Brother Peng, this step you must take yourself.

Later, the people you deal with will get even higher-ranked, even overseas big merchants—you might as well pay tuition now, don't wait till you chicken out and lose face!"

"I've never chickened out! I'm going—don't blame me if we lose money!"

Jin Peng cracked a couple of jokes, and his nervousness strangely vanished.

Over the past one or two years, he'd met all kinds of people; his horizons had naturally broadened—he was now someone who'd seen "big scenes."

That's exactly why Li Ye had set up Pengcheng Seventh Factory.

Back then, when his team first started, there were only seven or eight people, not even a single official seal—purely a makeshift outfit.

Jin Peng, that street boss, could only rely on three parts cunning and seven parts ruthlessness to handle things.

Hao Jian, that candy floss peddler, would shrink back at the sight of anyone in uniform.

With a team like this, could you expect them to expand territory during the coming great transformation?

By next year, 1984, the state will allow private enterprises to emerge and implement the dual-track market system, followed by four consecutive years of high growth for township and collective enterprises.

During those four years, countless capable people emerged in China—their starting points were far higher than Jin Peng's or Hao Jian's—how will you compete then?

Decades later, only a few enterprises in every industry will thrive. Li Ye chose them to work for him—he must lift them up.

That's why Li Ye built Pengcheng Seventh Factory two years early, pushed Jin Peng and Hao Jian onto the stage, and forced them to quickly learn everything an enterprise leader must handle.

If they'd kept being shell companies, would Hao Jian and Jin Peng have this ability now?

Put it vividly—this was Li Ye, using vision far beyond his era, giving them a test plot to learn how to farm.

Just like Wang Wanda gave Principal Wang 500 million yuan in startup capital—failure is allowed, but you must learn from it.

So if, after all Li Ye has done, Jin Peng still gets nervous talking to a big-unit boss, then forget manufacturing, forget being an entrepreneur—

just go play stocks, gamble, visit nightclubs with models, and live day by day, wouldn't that be better?

When Li Ye saw Jin Peng again, it was three days later.

Jin Peng's eyes were bloodshot, a blister had formed on his lip, he was utterly exhausted, yet his spirit was wildly energized.

"Little Ye, I've finally seen a real big scene—department heads don't count, the highest ones are only two ranks below your future who-knows-who. I talked with them beautifully—here's the results, take a look."

Jin Peng handed Li Ye a stack of documents—some contracts, some letters of intent.

"The First Aviation Company is interested in our clothing, but they've set their own requirements."

"The First TV Station also thinks our clothing is good, but says the price is too high—I proposed offering uniforms as sponsorship in exchange for prime-time ad slots. They refused, but seemed very interested."

"Also, someone criticized us for being out of touch with the masses—I humbly accepted their advice."

As Li Ye flipped through the documents, listening to Jin Peng's report, he finally understood the immense influence of the First TV Station in 1983.

Just a single scene in a promotional film had connected them to these seemingly unapproachable institutions—unthinkable in the future.

Even if Li Ye and Fan Xiuling's designs were novel enough, missing this chance would have been impossible.

It was a promotional film, not an advertisement.

It was simply the era's opportunity—luckily stumbling past their door and tripping, letting Li Ye catch it.

Seeing Li Ye silent as he studied the First Aviation documents, Jin Peng said: "The airline's revision requests are numerous—check if they're reasonable. If not, I'll talk to them again."

Li Ye shook his head: "Don't handle any revisions yourself—send everything to Hong Kong to Fan Xiuling. Tell her to work overtime and produce multiple different samples, then send them over for the airline to choose."

Jin Peng said: "Fan Xiuling's got a big ego—this message has to come from Old Pei. And aren't you supposed to be calm and dignified? We can't just coddle the airline like this!"

Li Ye smiled: "Fan Xiuling's smart—she gets a base salary of over 100, 00 a year plus sales commissions. If she doesn't meet your demands as market manager, she can quit."

"As for the airline, Brother Peng, remember: calm and dignified is your attitude; fulfilling requests is your job. Ignore unreasonable demands, but meet real needs."

Jin Peng said: "Alright then! Anyway, the trouble's Fan Xiuling's, not mine—I just want to sleep now. These days have worn me out."

Li Ye asked: "Can you handle it? If not, should I send Hao Jian to help you for a few days?"

"No need—I just hired a secretary. All paperwork's handed to him. Besides, Hao Jian's probably even busier than me now!"

"Secretary?" Li Ye gave Jin Peng a strange look. "Brother Peng, you've gone and hired a secretary yourself?"

Jin Peng met Li Ye's gaze and quickly added: "Little Ye, don't misunderstand—I hired a male secretary, a real one. Don't go saying weird things—my wife's fierce!"

"Heh~"

Li Ye smiled, lowered his voice as if not wanting Jin Peng to hear: "Real entrepreneurs never hire male secretaries."

Jin Peng: "..."

Hao Jian was indeed busy.

After receiving the notice to attend the Spring Canton Fair, he was brimming with energy.

When Li Ye later told him to ramp up inventory and hiring, he became ecstatic.

【Rapidly increase factory workers to over ten thousand.】

Factory director of a ten-thousand-worker factory!

In Qingshui County, that meant dining at the same table as the top boss.

Even in Pengcheng, he wouldn't be a nobody.

"Master Yang, when can these new workers start operating the machines?"

"Director Hao, you could let them operate now, but the defect rate won't stop—we can't rush! Back when I worked at the state factory, apprentices earned eighteen yuan and fifty fen a year for two years—"

Enough, enough, Master Yang, no more of that—I'll be straight: train me one qualified apprentice, and I'll give you a thirty-yuan bonus; if he's unqualified, I'll deduct fifty yuan from you.

"Then give me ten more days!"

"Alright, we're clear—you don't have to worry about money. I've sent Manager Chen to recruit workers in the southwest—new laborers are coming soon. You've got plenty of work as head trainer."

"If you say it like that, I'd die happy working here for life! Hahaha~"

While Hao Jian was busy with new worker training, the factory director's phone rang just before quitting time.

Minutes later, Hao Jian rushed back to his office.

"Hello? Brother Guo! Long time no see—what wind blew you to remember your old brother?"

Hao Jian picked up the phone and launched into warm small talk.

Because the caller was Guo Donglun.

"Director Hao, we really haven't seen each other in a while. Same place tonight—I'll wait for you."

"What? Tonight? It's already this late—Brother Guo, what's so urgent?"

"We'll talk when we meet!"

Guo Donglun hung up, leaving Hao Jian stunned.

Since meeting Guo Donglun over a year ago, Hao Jian had never quite figured out the young man in the wheelchair.

But the man was always measured—never missed a task, never accepted less than his due, and their cooperation had always been smooth.

Occasionally meeting for meals, they'd call each other brothers. Guo Donglun no longer sat cold and silent like at first.

But today, his tone felt cold again.

"Could he be trying to take the fruit? Unlikely!"

Hao Jian thought hard but couldn't find a reason.

After all, even if Guo Donglun replaced him, he couldn't get better terms than what he already had.

But Hao Jian wasn't afraid—Li Ye had long prepared an emergency plan for this scenario.

The hardest early phase was over—the factory's workforce was growing fast, sales channels existed inland, Hong Kong traders helped overseas, and most importantly, they'd built solid relationships with over thirty collective clothing factories.

Even if they handed over Pengcheng Seventh Factory's official seal now, production wouldn't stop—just have Hong Kong return some foreign exchange and become a shell company again for a while!

Once the new factory building was ready, all those skilled workers would follow Hao Jian out the door.

Stealing talent? Hao Jian was a professional.