Chapter 88: The First Income

After eating a few bites of fish, Lu Xiaoya tried Su Xinghui's braised pork and stir-fried pork with wood ear mushrooms, nearly swallowing her own tongue—here, the pigs were all raised by local families, fed no feed; the shiitakes and wood ears were all foraged from the mountains; how could dishes made from such ingredients not be delicious?

When she tasted the stir-fried fatty pork with baby bok choy fresh off the stove, she told Su Xinghui: "No good—one meal isn't enough. You have to cook me a few more meals later, or I'll be cheated!"

Su Xinghui chuckled: "Sure, as long as I get the chance, I'll cook you as many meals as you want!"

Lu Xiaoya now felt Su Xinghui was practically a treasure trove—the longer she spent with him, the more surprises he offered; compared to the boys she knew, who were transparent from the start, there was simply no comparison.

Su Xinghui told Lu Xiaoya about his plan to have Xia Zhu's father ride their minivan to Yu Maode's place for treatment; Lu Xiaoya immediately volunteered: "I'll handle telling my mom—no problem at all!"

When Su Xinghui's dishes were nearly done, Chen Hongfu and the others arrived with Song Qiaoli and Yu Gaoshan, all smiling broadly—clearly, today's contract signing had gone smoothly.

Because there were so many people today, they could only eat at the big table; besides Song Qiaoli, all the women had to eat at the small table—they weren't allowed at the main table. But since Su Xinghui's portions were generous, even the big table barely held everyone.

Chen Hongfu raised his cup: "Come on, let's all thank Manager Song and Boss Yu for signing the contract with us."

Everyone raised their cups; Song Qiaoli raised hers and said: "Secretary Chen, don't be so formal—this contract is a win-win for both sides."

Dong Jianshu said: "We still owe you thanks—if not for you, when would our poor villagers ever turn things around?"

Su Xinghui quietly asked Zhao Zhongfu: this time, Yu Gaoshan and Song Qiaoli had each signed formal off-take contracts with the livestock farm and the weaving factory; the terms were not harsh at all—they were extremely favorable to them.

Earlier, Song Qiaoli had inspected the bamboo crafts already woven—over a thousand one hundred pieces total, with a pass rate exceeding ninety-nine percent, leaving Song Qiaoli thoroughly satisfied.

This high pass rate was thanks to Xia Lan and Xia Zhu's strict oversight; every day when collecting the bamboo crafts, the sisters were meticulous—Xia Zhu's eye would never let a substandard piece slip by.

These over a thousand one hundred bamboo crafts, mostly simple designs, had a total appraised value of over five thousand yuan; Song Qiaoli had paid the weaving factory's cashier in cash on the spot, and this afternoon, the village women who participated in weaving would receive their first income.

Five thousand yuan wasn't much, but seeing actual money for the first time thrilled the village cadres; villagers who heard the news eagerly awaited their share.

Around a hundred women had participated in weaving; after deducting the village's profit, each averaged over twenty yuan—don't underestimate this sum: it was only half a month's earnings, yet in the past, they'd never earned this much in a full year.

Ding Hongxing was also delighted for them; this first income gave them a glimpse of hope for prosperity, and Song Qiaoli's contract with the weaving factory explicitly stated she would come monthly to collect bamboo crafts and pay cash on the spot.

After drinking a sip of wine, Song Qiaoli took a bite of the sour cabbage fish; her expression mirrored Lu Xiaoya's almost exactly: "This fish is delicious! Xiao Su, did you really make this?"

Su Xinghui nodded: "I made it."

Su Xinghui explained the nuances of the sour cabbage fish again; Song Qiaoli sighed: "Just now, Director Dong called this a remote poor village, but it's truly a treasure land—so many treasures here!"

Su Xinghui said: "There really are many treasures here, but they're hidden deep in the mountains, unrecognized, unable to become wealth—wasted entirely."

Yu Gaoshan said: "Isn't this a good start? In the future, these treasures will surely bring great wealth to the villagers."

Su Xinghui's dishes were truly delicious; everyone ate heartily, praising the food until over an hour later, they were all full and satisfied.

Su Xinghui had put down his chopsticks early because Lu Xiaoya kept winking at him—he understood: she was waiting for him to sketch her.

He put down his chopsticks and went outside to sketch Lu Xiaoya; she stood in the open yard, bathed in sunlight, smiling—the scene was breathtaking, and Su Xinghui's inspiration surged; his brush flew across the paper.

Using two pencils alternately, Su Xinghui finished the sketch in just over ten minutes, adding a few lines in the blank space: "Dedicated to classmate Lu Xiaoya, Su Xinghui, August 1992."

He handed the drawing to Lu Xiaoya; seeing the sketch that captured her radiant spirit, she beamed: "Mm, well done—thank you, Su Xinghui!"

At that moment, Song Qiaoli came out after finishing her meal; she took the sketch from Lu Xiaoya's hand and glanced at it. As manager of the handicrafts store, she was no stranger to art—she instantly recognized Su Xinghui's deep skill, which surprised her: such a young man, yet such mastery in painting?

Song Qiaoli had seen the note Su Xinghui wrote at her home last time—his calligraphy was already exceptional; she hadn't expected he could paint as well!

Song Qiaoli asked Su Xinghui: "You can paint?"

Su Xinghui nodded and smiled: "A little."

Song Qiaoli glanced again at the sketch and shook her head: "You don't just know a little—your foundation is extremely solid. If you weren't so young, I'd think you'd been painting for twenty or thirty years."

Su Xinghui couldn't help but admire Song Qiaoli's eye—no wonder she was manager of the handicrafts store; wasn't he exactly the one who'd painted for twenty or thirty years?

But of course he couldn't tell her that—he could only say he'd started learning at a young age and had painted for over a decade.

Song Qiaoli nodded knowingly: "Then your talent is quite remarkable. What painting methods do you know?"

Su Xinghui said: "Sketching, oil painting, and a bit of traditional Chinese painting."

Song Qiaoli smiled: "Then you'll never lack money—just bring me any painting, and I guarantee I'll sell it for a good price—hundreds or even thousands per piece is no problem."

Lu Xiaoya said: "His paintings are worth that much? Then I'll have to keep this one safe."

Song Qiaoli asked Lu Xiaoya: "How did you find out he's good at painting?"

Lu Xiaoya said: "He's been teaching Xia Zhu sketching these days—I saw one he drew for her, so I asked him to draw one for me too."

Song Qiaoli asked Su Xinghui: "Why did you think to teach Xia Zhu sketching?"

Su Xinghui said: "Xia Zhu has plenty of artistic spirit, but she's had no formal art training. Since she's weaving bamboo patterns, learning some drawing will definitely help her design better."