Chapter 250: Who Is the Fleeting Bloom?

On the eve of Labor Day, journalist Pan Xiaoqing of the Beijing Youth Daily published an editorial in the newspaper condemning unscrupulous merchants for counterfeiting branded products and deceiving innocent college students.

Within three days, over thirty newspapers nationwide reprinted the article, leaving Pan Xiaoqing unwittingly famous across the country.

The thousand dollars Li Ye left for Dong Yuejin was not in vain—he called each newspaper one by one using his contact list, and almost no one refused him.

With the massive reprinting, a new wave of articles discussing counterfeits and shoddy goods erupted, and the slogan "Counterfeit Fenghua Brand—Handcuffs at Your Door" spread throughout the land.

This was far more effective than TV commercials.

Clothing is a daily necessity, unlike electronic products like "Yanwu Yanwu"—many people just glanced at them, lacked the means to buy, and treated them as mere entertainment.

But who couldn't afford a single piece of clothing?

If criminals were counterfeiting Fenghua Brand, then Fenghua Brand must be good!

Thus, Fenghua clothing, already in short supply, plunged into a nationwide craze.

Hao Jian anxiously called Li Ye: "Old Man, I'm completely tied up—I can't escort the shipment to Beijing myself. I'm sending Mu Weimin in my place."

"Not only domestic units are demanding stock, but overseas buyers are coming back too—our exported clothing can't meet demand. I've raised the price to twelve dollars per piece and still can't keep up—I'm about to go crazy."

"Workers are now working seven or eight extra hours a day—it's still not enough! Even four extra hours won't let us finish overseas orders."

"Alright, alright, you're the boss—but no more than four extra hours. Still, I think handing Fenghua Brand over to external processing factories isn't right."

Hao Jian was truly desperate—just a year ago, he thought managing ten thousand workers was too much pressure, and preferred the easier path of trading and subcontracting.

Think about it—ten thousand people meant ten thousand mouths to feed!

Forget monthly wages—just the daily rice consumption was staggering.

Pengcheng Factory Seven now had eight canteens; the grain company's Dongfeng trucks delivered one full truckload of rice every day.

Our own small truck made multiple daily trips to the vegetable company; over a hundred cooks worked themselves to exhaustion just to meet Boss Li's demand for "balanced nutrition and full, good meals."

But now, Hao Jian wished he had a hundred thousand skilled workers.

Isn't it just ten truckloads of rice a day?

We have money, we have foreign exchange—if you take a stack of foreign currency to the grain company, trucks will line up to fill your canteens.

If you take two stacks, they'll even build a state-run canteen right outside your factory gate and save you the trouble of cooking.

But there's no "if."

Even though Pengcheng Factory Seven has been continuously hiring and training, it's only just surpassed fifteen thousand workers.

Even if we handed over all clothing except Fenghua Brand to external contractors, and forced our ten thousand workers to work overtime nonstop on Fenghua Brand, we still couldn't meet export demand, let alone the vast domestic market?

Only now did Hao Jian understand the meaning behind Li Ye's words: "Workers are the most precious capital."

"State-owned factories still have deep roots! Looks like we'll have to beg for help after all!"

Hao Jian sighed, took a sip of water to moisten his throat, and dialed a sister unit.

"Hey, Factory Director Ba, it's Hao Jian from Factory Seven! Hahaha, long time no see! I've got an urgent order—interested?"

"Yes, yes, Fenghua Brand—this batch has too high a standard. If I make my workers pull all-nighters, quality won't be guaranteed. I thought your factory has many veteran workers—you're the perfect fit."

"Money's no problem. Foreign exchange's no problem. But you know our quota's low—we can give you ten percent. Twelve percent is the max. It's settled—hurry up!"

"Sister Zheng, it's little Hao! Have you finished your current batch? If not, pause it—help me process some Fenghua Brand."

"We're family—would I ever shortchange you on foreign exchange? You ask how I got so big? I—I don't even know why we suddenly blew up!"

Hao Jian of course knew why his Pengcheng Factory Seven had suddenly exploded.

For over two years, he'd followed Li Ye's steps one by one, each step taken amid confusion and doubt—but within half a year, facts always proved Li Ye right.

Now, the fiery success of Pengcheng Factory Seven was merely the explosion after a series of preparations.

And Li Ye told Hao Jian there would be many, many more such explosions ahead.

Saturday night, Beijing, the Second People's Mall.

Within the Pengcheng Factory Seven sales area, a special zone was set aside for the "College Student Discount Event (Beijing Institute of Industry)."

With Fenghua Brand scarce across all of Beijing, this targeted discount for a fixed university was bound to draw huge crowds.

But unlike the chaotic rush during regular sales, this special event was quiet and orderly.

All students held their student IDs and lined up properly; not a single voice shouted. At most, acquaintances whispered and chuckled quietly among themselves.

At the entrance of the special zone stood a glass display case for anti-counterfeit items.

Inside, the anti-counterfeit buttons, labels, and detailed explanations drew everyone's attention.

"So Fenghua's buttons look like this under light! If I'd known earlier, I wouldn't have been fooled by the fake last time."

"Last time it wasn't the buttons—it was that we didn't buy from official stores. Look, the salesclerks selling Fenghua clothing wear different uniforms from everyone else."

"By the way, when I came in, an old lady asked me to buy her granddaughter a set of clothes—I refused, and she looked heartbroken. I felt awful."

"Absolutely not. Don't you know how hard Fenghua Brand is to get? Why are they giving us a 30% discount? We can't exploit our student status to make money."

Li Ye and Jin Peng stood nearby, watching the orderly college students slowly move forward, both deeply moved.

"Xiao Ye, I'm starting to believe these college students are the future trendsetters?"

"One of the key groups that lead fashion—they're the most receptive to new things. And though they're tight on cash now, they'll almost certainly never lack money later."

Jin Peng thought for a moment and nodded: "True. Today's college students start work with over fifty yuan a month—they're richer than most."

"But Xiao Ye, how did you predict these heartless merchants would target college students and sell them fakes?"

Li Ye shook his head: "I didn't predict it. This was pure coincidence."

Jin Peng didn't believe him: "Coincidence? Fine, if you say it's coincidence, then it's coincidence."

It wasn't surprising Jin Peng doubted Li Ye—on the very day the newspaper article ran, Li Ye had ordered Pengcheng Factory Seven to set up the "anti-counterfeit display case," openly showing the anti-counterfeit tags under bright lights.

Knowing Li Ye as he did, Jin Peng was certain he'd thought of this method long ago—otherwise why would he invest heavily in making anti-counterfeit buttons and labels? Anti-counterfeit buttons were expensive.

But if he had such a powerful anti-counterfeit system, why wait until the counterfeiting scandal erupted to promote it?

It was as if Li Ye had been waiting, patiently, for someone foolish enough to come and build him a ladder.

【One step ahead, three steps planned—my little brother has the talent of Zhuge Liang!】

"Peng Ge, Xiao Ye Ge."

Ma Qianshan hurried over and whispered to them: "Just now, a few students sold their Fenghua clothes to scalpers. I didn't stop them, as you instructed."

"But I fear this will only grow worse—lining up for a queue and making ten or so yuan profit? They pocket the money, and we take the loss."

"You won't lose."

Li Ye smiled: "Qianshan, when you used to watch others smoke Da Qianmen and couldn't even afford Xiao Jin Yu cigarettes, what did you think?"

Ma Qianshan didn't hesitate: "Of course—I vowed to smoke Da Qianmen every day. Even now that I smoke Mudan, I still buy a pack of Da Qianmen every week to smoke."

Li Ye said: "So if someone now sells their beloved, Shebudechuandeyifu for ten or so yuan, later they'll make up for it tenfold—that's retaliatory consumption."

"Retaliatory consumption?"

Ma Qianshan repeated it twice, then quickly pulled out a small notebook from his pocket and neatly wrote down those five characters.

"Hmph~"

Jin Peng glanced mockingly at Ma Qianshan, turned his face away, and sneered.

Yet inside his mind, he was rapidly reciting: "Retaliatory consumption, retaliatory consumption, retaliatory consumption..."

At Beijing University, Li Ye, newly appointed to the Youth League Committee, obediently attended the committee meeting.

"The First National College Debate Competition is one of our school's most important activities next semester. We must quickly select our main and reserve debate team members to ensure its success."

Because Li Ye the butterfly had flapped his wings, the "college debate competition" had become popular in mainland China three years earlier than in history—so much so that the first national finals were already being held.

Preparation for the October debate began in May—clearly, Beijing University took this event seriously.

Students who thought they had some talent were eager and itching to seize the chance to shine before the entire nation.

But Li Ye, the "famous Beijing University debater," had little interest.

After the meeting ended, Li Ye turned to leave—but was stopped by Zhu Yonghe, a third-year student.

"Li Ye, you don't have plans for summer vacation, right? Stay on campus and help prepare for our team."

"Senior Zhu, I have plans this summer—I really can't help. Sorry."

Zhu Yonghe frowned: "I've seen your family records—you're not rural household, no farm work to do. What could you possibly have to do? Don't worry—I've already arranged with logistics; the cafeteria will provide you free meals."

Three meals a day? What a joke—I've got dozens of things at home, tens of thousands changing hands every minute—I don't care about your free meals!

Besides, you're not even the official team yet!

True, Zhu Yonghe's debate team was strong—but Zhu Yonghe wanted Li Ye not to join as a debater, but to exploit his "encyclopedic memory" to research materials.

Thanks to his biological hard drive, Li Ye memorized incredibly fast—no matter the subject, after a quick skim, he could remember every punctuation mark.

Even if he couldn't finish a whole book, just reading classmates' summaries, reviews, and quoted passages, combined with similar books, let him speak with authority.

Naturally, with his level, Li Ye had every chance to win a spot in the official team.

But now Zhu Yonghe had quietly pulled him into their team to handle research—how could Li Ye still hope to become one of the four official debaters?

To join the team, he'd do it properly—as a debater, not as a silent assistant doing others' work.

"Li Ye, this won't do," Zhu Yonghe said, displeased. "Talent and intelligence are merely fertilizer for a fleeting bloom. Diligence, earnestness, and steady effort are the true ladder to progress."

"Hssss~"

"Senior Zhu, 'fleeting bloom' isn't a compliment. And which ladder I climb is my own choice—I won't walk on paths others lay for me."

"."

Li Ye turned and walked ten meters, then looked back at Zhu Yonghe: "Senior Zhu, next week's selection—let's see who's the fleeting bloom."

(End of Chapter)