Chapter 310

Li Ye arrived at his courtyard in Zhongguancun and saw Jiang Hong and several fellow villagers eating hot pot.

These gentlemen all earned decent salaries and had no mothers or wives to watch their spending, so they were far more carefree with food and money than Yang Yumin's family.

"Little Ye, have you eaten? Come sit down."

"Xiaoyong, go get another pair of chopsticks and a wine cup."

Jiang Hong spotted Li Ye entering and pulled him over to join for a drink.

Li Ye sat down first, then smiled and declined: "I've already eaten, Uncle Hong. I came just to mention something—there's a courtyard near the zoo; send someone to install a bathroom and toilet."

"Fine. Lately some people have been idle—I'll go check tomorrow, start gathering materials, and it'll be done in three or five days."

Li Ye frowned: "Idle people? Aren't you all working?"

Jiang Hong said: "Earlier, the streets were unstable, so we brought in more people from our hometown. But now with the crackdown, who dares cause trouble? We don't need so many anymore."

"I wanted to send some home, but Jin Peng refused outright—he said we might still need them later. I don't know if he's right."

"We really are short-staffed," Li Ye said. "Before and after the New Year, we'll open a branch in Jincheng—we'll need these veteran staff to train the newcomers."

"Then I'm relieved," Jiang Hong nodded. "Everyone's practical—they feel uneasy just sitting idle. If you've got relatives or friends who need bathroom or toilet renovations, just get them to do it now."

"It's freezing outside—no need to bother unless necessary."

Li Ye told Jiang Hong: "But I think bathroom renovations could be a business. Next year, if anyone from your hometown wants to do this, let them form a renovation team."

"Will that work?" Jiang Hong frowned. "Lately there's been another crackdown on economic crimes—many back home got hit. Old Xu and Old Zhang's families even sent telegrams, urging them to return."

Li Ye thought for a moment: "I'll ask someone to check. No rush this year, but I don't think renovation work falls under the crackdown."

In 1983, there really was a crackdown on economic crimes—author Suo got arrested this year for using 6, 00 yuan from the army's TV purchase to flip electronics for extra cash.

But the crackdown targeted unlicensed speculation and profiteering; manual labor was treated more leniently.

Li Ye rose to leave, but at the door he added: "The house at East Sixth Alley No. 18 belongs to a classmate—have them fix his bathroom and toilet too. Pay from my personal account through Jin Peng."

"Sure, easy enough."

Jiang Hong agreed promptly.

Li Ye drove back to Zaojunmiao, handed the car keys to his sister Li Yue, and said: "I ran into Yang Yujiao today."

Li Yue visibly startled, then calmed: "So what if you ran into her? What, did you go to your classmate's house today?"

"No, I went to Zhongguancun to see Uncle Hong—Yang Yujiao recognized this car."

Li Ye calmly recounted the day's events, then asked: "But Yang Yumin's mother told me a bunch of confusing things—said she'd never drag him down. I didn't understand. Do you know what's going on?"

Li Yue stared at Li Ye for over ten seconds, as if trying to see straight through his soul.

But Li Yue had only worked a few years; Li Ye had lived two lifetimes, decades older in experience.

Finally, Li Yue whispered: "She told me too. I asked Yang Yumin—he wouldn't say. So I pressed Yang Yujiao. Turns out Yang Yumin was adopted."

Li Ye was stunned.

He never imagined Yang Yumin, so bright and cheerful, had such a background.

Li Ye thought a moment: "Don't ever ask Yang Yumin again. Pretend you never heard this."

Li Yue rolled her eyes, dismissive: "You think I'm stupid? Do I need you to tell me?"

Li Ye exhaled sharply: "When Xiushuijie Market opens in a few days, get Yang Yumin to rent a stall—he makes great knife-cut noodles."

Li Yue pondered, uneasy: "Rent at Xiushuijie is expensive. Can knife-cut noodles even make money?"

Li Ye scoffed: "You know nothing. Pick the right spot—even selling dirt clods turns a profit."

"."

"I know nothing? But I know how to beat you!"

"Thump-thump-thump~"

Li Ye, quick as lightning, bolted away.

Late December, Changping.

In the finished goods workshop of Changbei Machinery Factory, over a hundred people stood, yet almost no sound was heard.

The only noise in the entire workshop was the hum of sewing machines, vibrating like the wings of bees.

Ten sewing machines stood in a row, already humming for an hour.

Ten seamstresses continuously tested fabrics of varying materials and thicknesses under everyone's watchful eyes.

Even the power lines feeding the machines were connected to electricity meters, measuring power consumption data.

Among the onlookers were Hong Kong investors, Changping officials, Fenghua Clothing's representative Manager Jin Peng, and in the distance, Li Ye, Li Dayong, and Pei Wenhui.

"Bro, that Hong Kong investment director looks so arrogant! He's just an employee, yet he's even more high-handed than Mr. Pei."

Li Dayong, watching Hu Shangmin—the "center stage" investment director of Sails Corporation—felt a pang of irritation.

He believed the majority of credit for developing and prototyping this new sewing machine belonged to his teacher Cao Zhisheng, Tang Mingtai, and Pei Wenhui.

But since Hu Shangmin took over, Pei Wenhui had stepped back, and Cao Zhisheng's research team couldn't even squeeze into the front row.

It was as if all the glory had gone to outsiders.

But Li Ye merely said calmly: "Good that he's arrogant—if he weren't, he wouldn't get anywhere."

Investing in mainland enterprises was a skill. People like Li Dayong and Pei Wenhui could handle guys like Cao Zhisheng, but they couldn't negotiate equally with government officials.

Li Ye had observed Hu Shangmin, sent by Pei Wencong to manage mainland investments, and felt he'd adapted well.

He knew when to put on airs and when to be humble, adjusting his tone for different people—now he moved with effortless ease.

Li Dayong muttered: "Bro, I know all this—but my teachers developed the tech.

Tang Mingtai even quit his job at the Third Machinery Factory to come here as technical manager. Now he can't even get a chance to show his face—how's he supposed to survive back at his unit?"

"If he's always going to be treated like this, aren't we just dragging him down?"

Li Dayong wasn't stupid—he just felt injustice for his teachers and Tang Mingtai.

But a child who'd never been beaten by society couldn't understand the helplessness or the hierarchy.

Pei Wenhui tugged Li Dayong's sleeve, whispering: "Don't worry so much. Whether they get ahead depends on us. Hu Shangmin's arrogance is just surface-deep.

But don't tell the teachers this—you'll get Mr. Li into trouble. He's the major shareholder."

Raised in Hong Kong, Pei Wenhui thought differently from Li Dayong. She and Li Dayong were shareholders—profit was her concern. Whether others got ahead was up to them.

As long as Cao Zhisheng and Tang Mingtai kept innovating, the company would never let them down. But if the technical manager started relying on connections to build fiefdoms, that would betray Li Ye's original intent.

After exactly two hours, the ten seamstresses stopped working.

After brief discussion, the workshop erupted in enthusiastic applause.

Clearly, the first batch of improved sewing machines fully met operational requirements.

Workers from the factory who'd been watching from the periphery also joined in excited applause.

Back then, workers didn't think "If this place won't keep me, another will." Once in a factory, you stayed for life. When the factory struggled and couldn't pay bonuses, it felt like your mother was sick—you were truly heartbroken.

Now, with a new product and foreign investors arriving, it was clear their future would be bright—who wouldn't be happy?

Li Ye tugged Li Dayong's sleeve and whispered: "We should go. What's left is Jin Peng and Hu Shangmin's business."

Li Ye and Li Dayong had come today only to handle emergencies. Now that the sewing machines met specs and officials seemed serious, the three shareholders no longer needed to make on-site decisions.

Quietly leaving the workshop, they got in the car and drove out of Changbei Machinery Factory's gate.

That evening, Jin Peng sent word back.

The joint venture was Yuanzeshang acceptable; procedures would likely be completed before the Spring Festival. But Hong Kong couldn't hold more than 50% equity—the enterprise's control remained with Changbei Machinery Factory.

Li Dayong was uneasy—he owed Li Ye a million pounds. He'd invested so much, yet the factory director still called the shots. He felt cheated.

But Li Ye said: "Dayong, remember—always go with the flow.

Given our current situation, gaining formal control is impossible. But if we don't control the enterprise's core, we're not fools."

Li Dayong thought: "Bro, you mean the core is the technology?"

Li Ye's joint venture proposal required Sails to register a new subsidiary, which would then partner with Changbei Machinery Factory.

Tang Mingtai's technical team belonged to the Hong Kong subsidiary; all research was kept secret from Changbei Machinery Factory.

"And the sales channels."

Li Ye said: "For two years we've built our own sales network. Though we sold clothing, we've trained hundreds of sales reps.

So sales and technology are what we need. Formal control? We don't insist."

Li Dayong stared blankly, then said: "Bro, isn't this just Fenghua Clothing's mall strategy? Let them earn small change while we take the big profits?"

"Not exactly," Li Ye said. "We have no foundation yet—we're borrowing a shell. Once we've built our tech team and captured the market, they won't be able to stop us from calling the shots."