Chapter 348: You're Proposing Too Early Right Now!

"Brother, Manager Wang said at the meeting that Changbei Machinery Company can now produce tens of thousands of sewing machines annually,"

"If we follow your suggestion and give sales reps commissions, each one could earn tens of thousands a year. All the workers would never agree."

"So if the sewing machines don't sell, we save money?"

Li Ye frowned and said: "How many days has it been since the joint venture started? Have they already forgotten the days when they couldn't pay wages?"

"Is it right to cry for your father when hungry, then curse your mother once fed?"

"No, Brother, Manager Wang isn't like that at all."

Li Dayong thought for a moment, then cautiously said: "Brother, I was wondering—should we replace the Hong Kong manager with someone gentler?"

"The current Hong Kong manager, Guo Tian, is too rigid, always looking down his nose at people. In less than a month since the joint venture began, he's already clashed with Manager Wang three times."

"I've met Guo Tian. I think he's perfect," Li Ye shook his head and rejected it. "Don't think just because we put in money, they owe us favors. Joint ventures are partnerships—both sides have their own interests."

"Dayong, you should ask your grandfather about this. Under Changbei Machinery's current conditions, if we don't have a tough Hong Kong manager standing out front, can this partnership even survive?"

Li Dayong's grandfather was an official in the power system and understood the culture of state enterprises well; his perspective would help Li Dayong grasp the truth faster.

Li Dayong awkwardly grimaced: "Brother, I haven't told my family I'm doing business with you. I think it's better not to."

Li Ye stared blankly: "Is that what I meant?"

Li Dayong paused, then lowered his head in thought. After a moment, he nodded: "Brother, you're right. If we let Manager Wang and the others have their way, it's no different from the old Changbei Machinery Factory—it'll collapse eventually."

Li Dayong was fairly smart, just limited by his age and experience—he lacked Li Ye's perspective as a reincarnated soul.

Li Ye had insisted from the start that R&D and product sales be controlled by the Hong Kong side, precisely to dramatically increase the income of technicians and sales staff.

So the R&D and sales departments of the joint venture factory were personally built and managed by the Hong Kong manager.

But this change triggered fierce conflict among the old Changbei Machinery Factory staff, who believed "not fearing poverty, but fearing inequality." The Hong Kong side had to stand firm.

Li Dayong, inexperienced and overly concerned, saw the factory in chaos and thought, since he had shares, he should play peacemaker—overlooking that the hardline Guo Tian was his and Pei Wenhui's true representative.

Once he understood the dynamics, Li Dayong suddenly saw clearly—and began showing off his "dramatically improved" driving skills to Li Ye.

But after showing off for a long time, he only got one reply from Li Ye: "Nice car. Terrible driving."

In 1984, the BMW 3 Series was sweeping the globe; a 3 Series with an inline-six engine crushed every other sedan on mainland roads.

Forget Ferraris—on the mainland's road conditions back then, Ferraris probably couldn't even get out of their garages more than a few times.

The two brothers drove around for half an hour before returning to the Zaojunmiao sihe courtyard.

It was fully dark. Li Ye told Wen Leyu: "Xiao Yu, we should head back."

Li Ye and Wen Leyu had grown accustomed to evening strolls by the lake; whenever possible, they cherished holding hands and occasionally wrapping an arm around each other's waist.

But today Wen Leyu slowly shook her head: "I want to watch TV."

Li Ye blinked in surprise: "What TV show could possibly be that captivating?"

Wen Leyu giggled: "A love story. Really good."

Looking at Wen Leyu's expectant eyes, Li Ye felt like he was watching a cat waiting by its food bowl for fish.

When the time came, Li Yue, Wen Leyu, and Pei Wenhui sat in a neat row in front of the TV, utterly focused, waiting for it to begin.

He couldn't help but wonder: how could such a calm girl like Wen Leyu become obsessed with a Japanese drama?

But when the theme song "Watasuiu, Saiyina nu" played and a youthful girl appeared on screen, Li Ye finally understood.

Japan really did have some good things—Miss Yamaguchi, at seventeen, was truly beautiful.

The TV drama "Bloodline" aired on Channel One in 1984, but before that, Henan TV had already broadcast it.

Then provincial and municipal stations across the country scrambled to rebroadcast it—second, third, even repeated airings—creating a scene of empty streets, surpassing even "Huo Yuanjia" and "Shanghai Beach."

Li Ye believed "Bloodline"'s huge success had two reasons: first, its strong cultural resonance; second, mainland audiences had never been exposed to romantic dramas and were utterly defenseless.

Teacher Zhang had said: China's largest island is Japan—they've been deeply influenced by Chinese culture; cultural identity matters.

Also, Miss Yamaguchi's appearance perfectly matched mainlanders' aesthetic tastes at the time. Personally, Li Ye thought she was far prettier than Zhang Yu.

But the most important reason was "Bloodline"'s plot—it was the grandfather of all melodramas.

Even a rational girl like Wen Leyu got completely swept away by it.

"Li Ye, do you know what leukemia is?"

"Li Ye, do you know what aplastic anemia is?"

After the drama ended, Wen Leyu rewarded Li Ye for watching with her by extending their lakeside stroll by half an hour—and allowed him to keep his arm around her waist for a long time.

But her rapid-fire questions left Li Ye both amused and exasperated.

"Bloodline" opened with the female lead, Yamaguchi Sachiko, suffering a terminal illness—just like modern web novels' "golden first three chapters"—it instantly hooked female viewers.

After more than twenty episodes of torment, it boldly ended with a tragedy, piercing every viewer's heart and proving the axiom: "Tragedies endure," creating a classic.

"Li Ye, how do you think Sachiko could be cured in the end?"

"She must be cured! If Sachiko isn't saved, the screenwriter deserves to be cut into a thousand pieces."

Li Ye firmly agreed with Wen Leyu's wishes, giving her the answer she wanted.

Watching the little girl nod happily, Li Ye thought Wen Leyu might really be like those "second-generation" people people talked about: "Looks ordinary, but takes things seriously."

Li Ye took half an hour longer than usual to walk Wen Leyu back to the girls' dormitory.

Just before parting, Li Ye noticed Wen Leyu taking off her Blancpain watch and putting it in her pocket.

"What's wrong, Xiao Yu? Why take it off?"

"It's not appropriate."

Wen Leyu glanced at Li Ye: "I don't know the brand, but I know this isn't something you can buy for a few hundred yuan. Someone in our class wears an Innisfree—much worse than this. I can tell the difference."

Li Ye: "..."

Beijing is full of hidden talents; kids from families like Teacher Ke's clearly aren't unworldly.

Wen Leyu tilted her head, squinting: "Do you think earning money means you have to spend it on me to prove your masculinity?"

When Fu Guiru parted from Li Ye at Lijia Slope, she choked out, "Give me a little more time." Whether she'd return or when was uncertain—Li Ye couldn't explain it to Wen Leyu yet.

So Li Ye could only smile and say: "This watch is meant to be worn at our wedding. Don't worry about its value."

Wen Leyu froze for several seconds, then her ears visibly turned red.

But she didn't run away shyly—instead, she said seriously to Li Ye: "We're still in school. You're proposing way too early!"

The next day, Li Ye was discussing the aftermath of the Elder's southern tour with classmates.

"Where are we taking privatization? Is this still the same China?"

"You won't know if a road is good until you walk it! Our domestic market is huge—we have plenty of room to make mistakes. Step by step, we'll develop."

"Li Ye, that's wrong. Having room for error doesn't mean you can make reckless mistakes. Every mistake burdens ordinary people with the cost."

After nearly two years of study, the students of the 1982 Economics class had matured significantly; several prodigies now specifically targeted Li Ye for debates.

They found debating with him the most fun—when pushed hard, Li Ye would occasionally drop new terms and ideas.

So now, Li Ye was quite frustrated.

Though during debates he felt a strange kinship with these prodigies—almost wanting to burn yellow paper and swear brotherhood—the pressure of constantly holding back his knowledge, who could understand?

For instance, at this moment, Hu Man and several classmates realized the Elder's southern tour in January would trigger sweeping changes,

but they were still confused—1984 was truly the "Year of the Mainland Entrepreneur." A massive opportunity was emerging from the fog, visible only to those with sharp instincts.

For example, a certain Wang, who loved his young wife, after witnessing the Elder's visit to Pengcheng, would soon found what later became a real estate giant.

Private enterprises like Jianlibao and Wanxiang were also quietly sprouting, eventually growing into business titans.

But Li Ye couldn't reveal such high-level secrets—he himself was a cunning, dark little crocodile hiding by the pond, waiting to feed on development.

"Li Ye, someone's looking for you."

A classmate's shout outside pulled Li Ye out of Hu Man's "encirclement."

When he stepped out of the classroom building, Hu Man and the others sighed: "I'm sure Li Ye figured something out, but it's not mature yet—he won't explain in detail."

He Dazhuang scoffed: "Hmph, maybe he's saving it to submit for publication?"

Hu Man shot back: "If you had a publishable idea, would you tell us first?"

He Dazhuang widened his eyes, gesturing wildly: "Of course I would! I never hoard knowledge!"

Chen Xiaoling smirked: "Don't be ridiculous. You've got nothing inside. What's there to hoard? You've submitted dozens of times—ever been published?"

"You've all been bewitched by Li Ye."

Li Ye went downstairs and found Li Dayong waiting.

"What's up, Dayong? If you're coming to Jingda, why not visit your sweet girlfriend? Why come to your brother?"

"Brother, word's come back from the Canton Fair—our new sewing machine didn't earn foreign exchange. So Manager Wang proposes changing the R&D workshop's ownership and sharing costs to create a world-class product."

Li Ye noticed Li Dayong's lips were blistered—he clearly cared deeply about Changbei Machinery.

And Li Dayong understood the importance of product R&D well—Changbei Machinery existed because, after returning from Hong Kong, he led the development of the new sewing machine.

So the Hong Kong side had sealed off one workshop as a dedicated R&D lab, clearly owned by the Hong Kong company, and barred anyone from the old Changbei Machinery Factory from entering.

Now this core department was being targeted by Manager Wang—how could Li Dayong not panic?

But Li Ye smiled: "He's not stupid. Have Tang Mingtai draft a research plan—open it up fully."

"Follow mainland convention: fund first, then research. See if they'll accept that."

Looking at Li Dayong, who seemed to grasp the point, Li Ye added: "Pay attention—it's brand-new R&D, not minor tweaks."

Li Dayong sucked in a sharp breath: "Brother, how much R&D funding will that cost? We haven't even made much money yet!"

He was a mechanical student—he knew how expensive mechanical R&D was. Losing hundreds of thousands was normal.

But Li Ye whispered: "Dayong, don't be stingy with R&D money. Only by leading in R&D can you build a second Changbei Machinery, a third Changnan Machinery, a fourth..."

Li Dayong swallowed several times before fully understanding the scale of Li Ye's ambition.

So a company of a thousand people in Changbei Mechanical isn't even enough to satisfy my brother's appetite!

"By the way, has the sales commission issue been resolved yet?"

"It's being handled, brother—I think it can be resolved."

"Don't bother with that. If they want to be contract manufacturers, let them be. Go find Brother Peng and have him set up a trading company to order and buy out all their output directly—let them save effort and make money."

"Understood. I know this routine well."

Li Dayong immediately nodded in agreement. Hadn't Qicheng Factory No. 7 grown to what it is today precisely because of that initial "I work hard, you reap the profits" model?

Since you all enjoy making money in comfort, then let me work harder and earn more!