Chapter 818

Saturday, Japan’s day off, but a group of people accustomed to working had already gotten up early and went to ask Liu Muhan all sorts of questions.

“Director Liu, yesterday we only toured Japan’s economy—today should we go see Japan’s scenery?”

“Yes, today we’ll visit Ueno Park. Everyone stays together—no one falls behind.”

“Ueno Park? Shouldn’t we go to Mount Fuji? If you come to Japan and don’t see Mount Fuji, isn’t that like going to mainland China and not visiting the Great Wall—what a shame?”

“Hey, how come you all only hear half of what’s said? Director Liu meant we’ll go to Ueno Park first, then to Mount Fuji.”

“Oh oh oh, I’m the fool—Director Liu, don’t take offense.”

“.”

Liu Muhan looked at the enthusiasm of her compatriots and sighed helplessly: “I’ve already contacted Mitsubishi—they also rest on weekends and can’t provide tours for us, so we’ll have to pay out of pocket.”

“Out of pocket?”

Everyone paused, then asked: “Director Liu, don’t we have a budget? Even if it’s out of pocket… it shouldn’t matter, right?”

“Exactly! We’re just taking a taxi and taking photos—we won’t order extra services or stay at fancy hotels—how much could it possibly cost?”

Liu Muhan said firmly: “Our per-person allowance is 4,000 yen. Right now in Tokyo, a taxi ride starts at 5,000 to 10,000 yen. Even though we can take a bus to Mount Fuji, other expenses are still beyond our means.”

Everyone fell silent for a few seconds; silent resentment began to spread.

“Why is our budget so small? It doesn’t even cover taxi fare?”

“Exactly! We’re not first-time visitors—we’ve never seen such a stingy budget.”

“4,000 yen a day? That won’t even cover meals! Didn’t Deputy Director Li buy us meals two days ago—that must’ve exceeded the limit?”

“Director Liu, I have to speak up—we represent the mainland’s image. How embarrassing would it be if a delegation from a great nation couldn’t even afford a taxi ride?”

Xiao Jingen and others grumbled while glancing at Li Ye and Liu Muhan.

It’s not about having little—it’s about inequality. Why do you eat lavishly while we scrimp and save?

We’re all people—why are you so different?

Liu Muhan’s expression turned cold and sharp.

After 1985, the yen rose sharply, and Japan’s service fees followed suit. In 1980s Tokyo, taxi fares started at 10,000 yen—higher than a Chinese worker’s monthly income.

But because the yen’s exchange rate surged and the economy bubbled, Japanese salaries were equivalent to RMB, so they didn’t think it expensive—they thought everything was cheap.

In 1980s Tokyo, it was hard to hail a taxi at night; people had to wave 10,000-yen notes (nearly equivalent to today’s $70) to get a driver’s attention.

But did Xiao Jingen and the others know any of this?

Liu Muhan sternly said: “Is 4,000 yen little? According to today’s official rate, 4,000 yen equals 100 RMB. Our daily budget equals a mainland worker’s monthly wage—do you still think it’s little?”

“.”

“That can’t be right—the yen’s worthless, isn’t it?”

“Worthless? In April this year, one dollar exchanged for 140 yen—and it’s still rising. One dollar equals 3.72 RMB. Do you think I’m lying?”

No one questioned Liu Muhan anymore.

Though mainlanders didn’t understand global economics, their arithmetic was sharp—they calculated in their heads that 4,000 yen could buy more than 100 RMB, even at the official rate, let alone on the black market.

“Sss~”

This was public money, not personal spending—you’re burning a worker’s entire monthly wage in one day. If you’re still not satisfied, the workers would block your door and curse you for three days straight.

Seeing everyone subdued, Liu Muhan softened her tone: “Japan’s service fees have risen these past few years, but industrial goods have actually gotten cheaper.

You can buy a very good camera for 20,000 yen. I’ve discussed with several leaders—we’ve been saving for you all, planning to give it to you at the end.”

“.”

Xiao Jingen and the others began recalculating in their minds—weighing whether to take the money home and sell it on the black market, or to become high-end smugglers.

At that moment, Gu Jianqi, who had been silent until now, suddenly said: “I’m going to visit my Japanese friend today—I won’t join the group. My two-day allowance can be split among you all.”

Liu Muhan blinked in surprise: “Mr. Gu, you’re going out alone today? Should I send Xiao Hu to act as your interpreter?”

Gu Jianqi had already stood and headed for the door: “My friend speaks Chinese—don’t worry. I’m nearly retired—do you think they’ll kidnap me?”

“.”

Hearing this, Liu Muhan had no grounds to object.

Most cases of personnel defecting and staying overseas occurred among middle-aged and young people—no one like Gu Jianqi, nearly sixty, had ever done it.

“Secretary Guo, please register Mr. Gu’s friend’s identity, contact info, and address—this is protocol, please understand.”

“Yes yes yes, we understand.”

Secretary Guo was prepared—he registered some details with Liu Muhan, but as he did, he subtly glanced at Li Ye.

Li Ye had gone out alone without registering—but he’d exited separately, so technically he wasn’t under Liu Muhan’s jurisdiction.

Secretary Guo was watching Li Ye; Li Ye was watching Secretary Guo.

He found it odd—the stock market isn’t open today. What were they going out for?

Could it be, as Wei Xiaobao said, that once you make money, you must “spend it lavishly”?

Gu Jianqi’s Japanese friend was tied to Chu Yunling—and Chu Yunling’s business reach was vast.

【Was Chu Yunling’s arrangement legitimate?】

…………………………

Li Ye wouldn’t join Liu Muhan’s group to tour Ueno Park—such places were only enjoyable if you were with someone you liked.

So Li Ye went to his mother’s place for a meal, and to soothe the restless hearts of certain people.

“Oh, Min, you’re here so early?”

As Li Ye entered Fu Guiru’s residence, he saw Min already there, hunched over a pile of stock market data with his mother.

Min hurried over with a smile: “Mr. Li, I’m used to waking early—since I had nothing else to do, I came to discuss some matters with Madam Fu.”

Li Ye glanced at the printed data sheets scattered across the coffee table and sofa: “Don’t you have specialists analyzing this? Why are you looking at it?”

Fu Guiru managed Li Ye’s company because of her resilience, calmness, and composure under pressure.

Min became Pei Wencong’s right-hand woman because of her loyalty and diligence—Li Ye figured neither Fu Guiru nor Min could extract anything meaningful from raw data.

Even professionals had biases when analyzing financial data—how much more so non-experts?

When a stock fluctuates evenly up and down, those wanting to profit think “it’ll rise,” those wanting to buy the dip think “it’ll fall”—who can really tell?

Fu Guiru looked up at Li Ye, displeased: “If you leave everything to others, aren’t you just blind and deaf?

You’re an economics graduate playing the absentee boss, letting us work for you—and you still dare say that?”

Li Ye blinked, not daring to argue—after all, he truly was the absentee boss, and his mother was doing her utmost as his employee.

Seeing the god of wealth being scolded, Min quickly defused it: “Mr. Li, you don’t understand our mindset. These numbers look complex, but if we don’t check them daily, we feel uneasy—and the staff might think we know nothing.”

“Yes yes, it’s good to look—even if we don’t understand, it keeps staff from lying to us. I’m too young, didn’t think it through.”

Li Ye quickly followed Min’s lead—Fu Guiru and Min now managed large teams; not understanding was fine, but they had to pretend they did.