Chapter 358: A Son Should Be Like Mr. Li (Happy New Year)

The 1984 Chinese women's volleyball team had real influence—by late May, sales of Pengcheng Red Bull surged explosively.

Distributors across the country rushed Pengcheng for more stock, but Pengcheng's supply hit a snag.

Pei Wencong called Li Ye directly: "Mr. Li, the situation you predicted has happened. Pengcheng Pepsi has notified us their production line will undergo maintenance next month, so our contract manufacturing plan will be affected."

In 1984, mainland China had few aluminum can production lines; Beijing and Yangcheng each had one Coca-Cola plant, and Pengcheng had a Pepsi plant.

Jianlibao currently also relies on Pengcheng Pepsi for contract canning.

Li Ye asked calmly: "Who do you think is behind this?"

Li Ye didn't ask how severe the "impact" from Shenzhen Pepsi was—whether it meant tens of thousands fewer cans or zero cans at all. Asking such questions was meaningless.

What he needed to confirm was whether Pepsi was deliberately sabotaging Pengcheng Red Bull.

Pengcheng Red Bull was at its peak, having established distribution networks in over a dozen cities, poised to expand further—right now, whoever tried to strangle it was declaring a lifelong feud.

Pei Wencong said: "I'm not certain, but I think our advertising influence has become too strong, posing a competitive threat. I've already discussed it with Hao Jian—we're activating the contingency plan."

Thanks to the existing distribution channels from Pengcheng Factory Seven and Pengcheng Red Bull's deep pockets, they hadn't hoarded inventory based on market demand.

Moreover, Li Ye had anticipated the possibility of being choked off, so he'd definitely stockpiled generously in advance.

Also, Li Ye had seen too many cases of malicious competition in his past life, so his contingency measures were multi-pronged.

"Have Hao Jian investigate. Also, push hard on the production line construction—we can't keep patching things together. And you must implement those crisis-response measures as soon as possible."

A full aluminum can production line isn't simple—pressing thin aluminum sheets into cans requires heavy machinery, and ordering and calibrating it is a nightmare.

Fortunately, in 1984, the mainland prioritized importing "technology projects," so Pengcheng Red Bull's production line faced no approval issues.

"Understood, Mr. Li. But regarding the production line, it depends on the progress from Malaysia—I'm willing but powerless!"

"."

Pei Wencong's meaning was clear: you handle your own mother—you don't want me to be the bad guy.

Li Ye fell silent for a few seconds, then said: "Just inform her. Don't pressure her. Tell her not to rush."

"."

【Should I hurry up and have a son?】

Pei Wencong sighed, feeling a touch of "A son should be like Mr. Li."

Capable, blessed with great fortune, and thoughtful—if he had a son like this, he could just lie back and relax. Why strive at all?

Malaysia.

Fu Guiru hadn't had a proper rest in days, shuttling nonstop between several Southeast Asian countries searching for secondhand aluminum can production lines.

Pei Wencong faxed her the mainland's sales figures every week, so she knew exactly how Pengcheng Red Bull was growing—and how desperately it needed its own production line.

But ordering a brand-new line wasn't something that could be settled in two or three months, so Fu Guiru turned her attention to secondhand equipment.

The Southeast Asian beverage industry had developed early; after a week of relentless searching, Fu Guiru finally secured a nearly new production line.

Only after returning to her home in Johor did she feel the exhaustion from overexertion.

Fu Guiru first peeked into Fu Zhiman's room—no one was there—then went to her daughter Fu Yiruo's room.

"Xiao Ruo, have you received any mail these past few days?"

Fu Yiruo, about to sleep, winked mischievously and grinned: "Mom, whose mail are you asking about?"

Tired, Fu Guiru froze, then snapped awake: "Do I need to ask? Hand it over right now."

Fu Yiruo giggled, pulling a foreign letter from the bottom drawer of her desk.

"Hehe, Mom, since your wish came true, what's in it for me?"

Fu Guiru snatched the letter, scolding: "Want a punch on the head?"

Fu Yiruo feigned deep sorrow, dramatically wailing: "Now that you've got a son, you're tired of me—my life is so hard!"

"Stop it, don't act up!"

Fu Guiru gave her daughter a light tap, then opened the letter.

The letter was from Li Ye in Beijing. Since their parting at Lijiapo, this was their first correspondence.

Fu Guiru knew Johor was thousands of miles from Beijing—mail was slow—but after waiting over two months without news, she felt deeply disappointed.

Sometimes she thought: why not just have spoken up back then? Even if Li Ye had questioned her, it would've been better than months of anxious uncertainty.

Would Li Ye still recognize me?

Would we ever meet again?

Her daughter Li Yue was twenty-four now—what had she become?

In these two months, Fu Guiru had dreamed of little Li Yue countless times at midnight.

Back then, Li Yue was only six or seven, with two pigtails, always watching over her younger brother like a little adult—thinking of it now broke her heart.

Li Ye's letter was thick. When Fu Guiru opened it, she found not just two pages of letter paper, but two stiff cardboard sheets with several photos sandwiched between them.

The moment Fu Guiru saw the photos, tears immediately streamed down her face.

They were pictures of Li Yue shortly after arriving in Beijing, taken with Li Ye and Wen Leyu during a trip to Xiangshan and other places.

Seeing Li Yue—so strikingly like herself, now a graceful young woman—Fu Guiru's emotions surged beyond control.

【You little rascal—you guessed my thoughts.】

Fu Guiru stared at the photos for a long while, then wiped her tears and laughed, scolding Li Ye.

Then she read Li Ye's letter.

The content seemed ordinary—just Li Ye's observations from Beijing, like how overseas connections had become highly valuable.

Fu Guiru immediately understood: Li Ye was using these mundane details to signal changes in mainland policy and attitudes toward overseas Chinese.

At the end of the letter, he'd written a phone number, noting: "Unlikely to be answered during the day; possible after 5: 0 p. ."

Fu Guiru checked the time, hesitated, then couldn't resist dialing the mainland line.

Mainland phone connections were still unreliable; after several attempts, she finally heard a ring, then Li Yue answered.

"Hello? Who's this?"

"."

Fu Guiru thought of a possibility—and held her breath.

If it wasn't Li Ye, then… was it Li Yue?

"Hello? Where are you calling from? If you don't speak, I'm hanging up!"

"Don't hang up."

Fu Guiru hurriedly said: "I—I'm looking for Li Ye. Who are you?"

"You're asking who I am? Then who are you?"

"I—"

The sharp, capable businesswoman Fu Guiru suddenly lost her words.

She'd assumed the caller was Li Ye—she never imagined it was Li Yue.

But Fu Guiru was a seasoned public figure; after several deep breaths, she regained composure.

"I'm an overseas Chinese from Southeast Asia. In March, I asked Mr. Li to help me find a relative."

"Oh, Li Ye isn't here. What's your name and address? I'll notify him tomorrow—he'll reply as soon as possible."

Fu Guiru paused again, then bluntly asked: "Are you Li Ye's sister or his girlfriend?"

Li Yue replied in surprise: "Who are you? Your voice sounds… familiar. Are you playing a prank?"

Fu Guiru wiped her tears and said: "Mr. Li told me he has a sister and a girlfriend—you must be one of them."

Li Yue paused, then realized: "You're the overseas Chinese who gave Li Ye the watch! I'm Li Ye's sister—thank you so much—"

Why are you thanking me?

Fu Guiru chatted with Li Yue; Li Yue, strangely, showed no impatience. They talked and talked, losing track of time—fifteen minutes of international call.

When Fu Guiru finally hung up, her tears had become a flood.

Beside her, Fu Yiruo quietly handed her a handkerchief to wipe her tears and runny nose.

After wiping her face, Fu Guiru suddenly said: "Xiao Ruo, I may need to travel constantly between the mainland and Johor from now on. Can you take care of yourself?"

Fu Yiruo's eyes sparkled: "Mom, I can study in the mainland! Lijiapo National University already has examples—why can't I go?"

"What about Zhiman? Who'll take care of him?"

"Of course Auntie! These days, Zhiman doesn't even want to live with us."

"."

Fu Guiru sighed, torn.

She didn't know if returning to the mainland now was the right time.

All along, Fu Guiru had believed: if I haven't worn brocade, how can I return home?

When Pei Wencong gave her a $10 million discretionary budget, her longing finally began to stir.

Now, having heard Li Yue's voice, she could hold back no longer.

【But will you… accept me?】

Fu Guiru didn't know that, far away in Beijing, in the Sihe Academy on Zaojunmiao Street, Li Yue was also weeping uncontrollably.

That voice on the phone, though distorted by the long-distance line, still sounded exactly like the woman from Li Yue's dreams.

Without realizing it, Li Yue had poured out so many words—now, looking back, some felt "too familiar."

But a strange, unspoken understanding made Li Yue unwilling to hang up—she wanted to talk longer.

The moment the call ended, the sudden emptiness shattered the strength Li Yue had held for over a decade.

(End of chapter)