Chapter 369: Sister, You

"Let's go, Xiao Ruo, let's head over there and browse for a bit; let him have a few words with his fellow townsman."

Seeing that Li Ye had something to discuss with Tan Min, Wen Leyu pulled Fu Yiruo, who was eager for gossip, away first.

That's exactly what makes the girl so thoughtful—she never prys into Li Ye's affairs; if there's anything she truly needs to know, Li Ye will tell her himself.

After the two girls left, Li Ye asked Tan Min: "Old Song and your brother-in-law are going abroad? How come I didn't know? Are you mistaken about something?"

When Tan Min said Old Song and Wei Jiaxian were going abroad, Li Ye instinctively doubted it.

Even if an employee quits, they should at least inform their boss in advance—unless it's a cruel, heartless boss, in which case the employee might pull a surprise exit as revenge!

I've treated Old Song and Wei Jiaxian well—not exactly begging for talent, but certainly not mistreating them. How could I possibly know nothing?

But hearing Li Ye's skepticism, the usually quiet Tan Min suddenly flew into a rage.

"How could it be a misunderstanding? Those two bastards—one spends all day listening to a tape recorder muttering ghost incantations, the other's always scheming how to get a visa!"

"I grabbed them by the collar and demanded answers, but they brushed me off saying they were studying international best practices—pfft, just look at what they are!"

Li Ye: "..."

One's a dropout from compulsory education, another's a mute who can't even string a sentence together, a product of private tutoring who doesn't even recognize "a, o, e"—and now they're all obsessed with learning English? Can they even learn it?

He started flipping through the first ledger, reached a certain page, marked an X after a line of text, and wrote down the number forty-five.

After receiving the money, Tan Min first put it into the cash box, then pulled out two ledgers.

Seeing Li Ye watching him record accounts, Tan Min muttered: "I don't know how to do business, but don't worry—I won't embezzle anyone's money."

Li Ye didn't believe Old Song would leave the country and never return, but just look at who Wei Jiaxian, Du Ye, and Old Song are.

But Tan Min replied bluntly: "It's not the first day—it's the seventh day. If you want to haggle, go elsewhere. I won't sell it for less."

Then Tan Min wrote "income: forty-five" in the second ledger.

The passerby sneered: "Where in this market doesn't involve haggling? Are you just starting out as a vendor?"

Li Ye's super-vision caught the handwriting on the first ledger: "Ming Dynasty bronze mirror, eighteen yuan and fifty fen."

Li Ye quietly drew in a breath, feeling puzzled and uncertain.

Wei Jiaxian is already in his thirties, and Old Song is nearly at the age where earth is already covering his chest—why are they suddenly obsessed with learning English like teenagers? Isn't that strange?

At that moment, a passerby approached Tan Min's stall, picked up a bronze mirror, and asked the price.

This was truly interesting—mice have their ways, cats have theirs; Tan Min's business philosophy was pure honesty: bought for eighteen yuan and fifty fen, sold for forty-five, no haggling—buy it or leave.

This stall was originally run by Du Xing, but now he, too, has been bewitched, constantly offering gifts to that foreign-educated teacher.

"Alright, here's forty-five. Wishing you great business."

"This..."

"If I don't keep an eye on the stall, what if they learn so much they end up studying in foreigners' pants—what'll happen to my two nephews? Don't I owe them something to live on? My sister's still back in Dongshan raising two kids."

Li Ye knew that Tan Min, a staunchly upright man, always looked down on Old Song and his brother-in-law, who came from the underworld—but these words of his sounded strangely off.

The customer stood frozen for a moment, then pulled out forty-five yuan and handed it to Tan Min, took the mirror, and walked away.

"How much is this mirror?"

"Forty-five. No haggling."

Let's not even discuss what they're actually planning—just how unified is this little group's collective will?

This matter could be trivial—or huge.

Old Song is still on a salary-plus-commission structure, lower than Jin Peng's tier—once he gains confidence and feels resentment, might he walk out and start his own business?

In his past life, Li Ye watched a popular TV drama where a character named Zhu Suosuo followed her boss to quit and start a venture on her own.

That boss was somewhat like Old Song—a crafty, cunning character.

So Li Ye asked Tan Min: "Lately I haven't seen Old Song at all—how can I find him easily?"

Li Ye decided to go find Old Song and ask why he hadn't informed his boss about such a major decision.

Although he'd always thought Old Song was morally ambiguous, his attitude toward Wei Jiaxian suggested he was loyal and sentimental.

But Li Ye knew he'd never been ruthless enough in either life—if he'd misjudged him...

Li Ye aspired to be a hands-off, relaxed CEO—but to enjoy that ease, his subordinates had to be trustworthy.

If they're not trustworthy, I won't stop you—take three silver dollars as travel expenses, go in peace, no hard feelings. Otherwise, if you stab me in the back, I'll have to dodge and weave constantly.

Tan Min said: "You won't see Old Song during the day, but these past nights he's been hanging out near the zoo with that foreign-educated guy—it's just near Chen Jinhua's noodle shop. Go there at night, you'll definitely find him."

Li Ye first accompanied his sister and his young wife to take several rolls of film at Longtan Lake, then headed to Chen Jinhua's noodle shop near the zoo in the afternoon.

Only then did he understand what Tan Min meant by "hanging out."

Chen Jinhua served Li Ye, Wen Leyu, and Fu Yiruo three bowls of cold noodles, then cheerfully opened up.

"Old Song partnered with someone to open an English training class—it's like picking up fallen leaves for money. People who've returned from overseas really have sharp minds; they instantly spot profit opportunities."

"I've told Xiao Yan to go learn whenever she has time—if she gets the chance, she should take that TOEFL exam. We may be from a small town, but we should have big ambitions. How can we know we're not destined for it unless we try?"

Li Ye was extremely surprised—he remembered Yu Minhong didn't start his English training classes until the late 1980s; opening one in 1984 was clearly ahead of its time.

Of course, it also took guts—maybe they'd end up failing spectacularly.

The overseas partner must be the "foreign-educated guy" Tan Min mentioned.

If that's true, maybe Tan Min had misunderstood Old Song after all.

But wasn't Old Song always disdainful of foreigners?

Interesting.

Li Ye didn't press further about Old Song, but asked about Jiang Xiao Yan instead.

"Auntie, did Xiao Yan tell you she wants to take the TOEFL?"

"She doesn't want to. She argues back with me, saying she wants to help me expand the noodle shop—do I really need her help running a few noodle shops?"

Chen Jinhua said angrily: "Besides, what's the glory in running a noodle shop? Can it compare to being a returned overseas student?"

"When we were poor, I still sent her to college. Now that we're better off, shouldn't I support her through a master's or even a Ph. .? So I just forced her to go."

Li Ye thought for a moment and smiled: "Auntie, what you said is partly right—but if Xiao Yan truly wants to pursue a master's or Ph. ., she won't need your financial support—it won't cost much. And running a noodle shop isn't necessarily without glory."

"Still not as good as a returned student," Chen Jinhua insisted. "You haven't seen people who've come back from overseas—their demeanor, their knowledge—they're just so impressive!"

Li Ye found this amusing and nodded: "Alright, I'll go check it out tonight."

Old Song's training class was two streets away from Chen Jinhua's noodle shop, held in an unused classroom at a primary school—somehow they'd gotten permission to use it.

Because Jiang Xiao Yan was involved, Wen Leyu didn't avoid it this time and came along.

The three arrived outside the classroom and peered through the windows, searching for Old Song and Jiang Xiao Yan.

But what first caught Li Ye's attention was a middle-aged man in a shirt and suit standing at the front of the classroom.

He was lecturing passionately, switching randomly between English and Chinese, making the lesson so chaotic and disjointed that even Li Ye struggled to follow.

Could Old Song possibly understand this?

Besides the teacher, who wore a suit and tie despite the sweltering heat, the most conspicuous person in the room was Old Song.

He stood out terribly—among the thirty or forty "students," nearly all were young people in their twenties; there was no one else remotely close to Old Song's age.

Moreover, Old Song sat in the front row, right in the most visible spot, completely ignoring the curious glances from the younger students, displaying an astonishing level of social confidence.

The second-oldest person was Du Xing.

But Li Ye noticed Du Xing sitting in the back row, and it struck him as odd.

After helping expose their former boss, Du Xing had asked to join Jin Peng's team, but Li Ye decided to assign him to Old Song instead.

Because someone as cunning and adaptable as Du Xing was better suited under the management of a seasoned schemer like Old Song.

After joining Old Song, Du Xing had been monitored by Jin Peng, who reported he was doing well—being a local with ancestors who raised birds and carried cages, he was perfectly suited for the antiques trade.

But if Du Xing and Old Song knew each other, why were they sitting so far apart?

Was there tension between them?

As Li Ye pondered this, the middle-aged teacher on the podium suddenly looked over.

"Are those people outside trying to listen in? If you want to attend, come right in—don't loiter outside freeloading."

"What do you mean 'freeloading'?"

Li Ye found the remark awkward but entered the classroom anyway, curious whether this was a premium training program or a scam.

But as Li Ye, Wen Leyu, and Fu Yiruo stepped inside and were about to sit down, the teacher pointed to a price list on the wall.

"Please pay your training fee first—we don't allow freeloading."

Li Ye couldn't help laughing—he'd encountered countless training classes in his past life, but never one so eager to collect money upfront.

But when he looked at the price list, his laughter vanished.

Weekly training fee: 100 yuan per person.

Monthly training fee: 350 yuan per person.

In an era when the average worker earned forty yuan a month and skilled workers made at most a hundred or so, a weekly fee of 100 yuan was equivalent to ten thousand yuan per week in modern terms.

Was this private one-on-one tutoring?

Even top-tier training centers didn't charge this much—this was outright robbery! How could Old Song be involved in this?

Li Ye's face turned cold. "If you're charging, you should at least let us audit a lesson to see if it's worth it. We haven't heard a single word yet—paying now violates common sense."

"Audit? Worth it?"

Old Song was about to stand up when the teacher tugged his tie and launched into a rapid-fire torrent of English.

His speech was extremely fast and muddled; Li Ye strained to understand, catching only fragments like "every quiddeserves a quo" and "no pains, no gains"—the rest was as incomprehensible as Cantonese dialects to a Beijinger.

The teacher spoke for two full minutes, then smiled mysteriously: "See? Whether it's worth it depends on your level. If you can't understand this, you shouldn't even be here—go study middle-school English first!"

All the students turned to stare at Li Ye, their expressions complex enough to make anyone feel ashamed.

But Li Ye was certain few, if any, of them had understood a word of what the teacher had just said—anyone with that level of proficiency wouldn't waste money on a training class.

But Li Ye was certain that few of these people could understand what was just said; anyone with that level of proficiency wouldn't waste money on a training class.

For example, Wen Leyu.

When Lao Song tried to smooth things over again, Wen Leyu coldly said: "You reversed the word order three times, switched between two vastly different accents, and used at least four idioms unique to Britain and the Lighthouse."

"Of course, you could claim all this was a trial to assess the trainees, but—"

Wen Leyu pointed at the teacher on the podium, her face icy, and snapped: "Who did you just call a country bumpkin with no culture? Dare you say it again?"

The teacher on the podium stared blankly for a long moment, then smiled nervously at Wen Leyu.

"Hey, little sister, are you here to crash the party? That's against the rules!"

(End of Chapter)