Chapter 120: A Three-Pillar Strategy of Technology, Industry, and Trade is the Golden Rule

Yu Qili truly possessed an incredibly persuasive and inflammatory charisma. Even the staff at the detention center treated him with great courtesy, doing their best to ensure he didn't suffer. Even the members of the Reform Committee remained largely silent when Rang Weidong returned to the city.

This was because Yu Qili’s logic—much like the optimistic, high-minded rhetoric found in pyramid schemes—sounded entirely correct. When ordinary people compared such ideals to their own bleak realities, it was easy to be swayed. Right now, everyone was poor; the more opportunities they had to travel, see the outside world, and catch a glimpse of a higher level of society, the more they realized that reform was an absolute necessity.

The future of this tense standoff remained uncertain. Over the past decade, countless people at the bottom of the social ladder had struck gold by betting on the right outcome and subsequently rising to great heights. As a result, most people were either unwilling or afraid to get involved. Even setting aside the prospect of gambling their lives and livelihoods to act as stepping stones, people were hesitant to even abandon their "iron rice bowls" to dive into the market economy. Thus, they remained silent, dragging their feet.

Almost everyone could only follow the paths paved by those who had already achieved success. Even Rang Weidong himself lacked confidence at this moment. He didn't bother explaining to these people that Yu Qili’s desperate, confrontational approach was merely a way to build a persona. That was certainly how he saw it. After all, Dong Xueying had previously helped Old Yu pass messages and was sent everywhere to appeal and deliver materials, all of which were calculated steps to build a reputation. One had to make a scene to be seen. Now that he had been enlightened, Rang Weidong had little interest in listening to that brainwashing rhetoric.

With Rang Weidong taking over, his personality was more like a fire extinguisher. He knew for certain that there would be no more "heroes of the blank exam paper"—that road was a dead end. Regardless of the high-sounding slogans Yu Qili raised about holding up banners or being ready to be smashed to pieces, Rang Weidong would calmly and gently explain, "Regarding the previous trade contract for Northern tallow, I went to Hebei to make contact, and eventually handed the business relationship over to the chemical plant and the oil merchants. I felt that this project required using freight cars to solve logistical issues; we could spare no expense to pull it off once or twice, but maintaining that level of freight capacity long-term overestimated our ability to sustain those connections..."

Yu Qili frowned slightly. Rang Weidong continued as if seeking advice: "...So, considering the nature of the Shangzhou bristles and casing export business, and the massive waste of organ meats, I pushed for a food processing plant to produce delicious specialty snacks, aiming to make it a new pillar industry for Shangzhou."

Yu Qili’s line of thinking was immediately different: "With so many factories crying out for resources and such a vast market hungry for various products, shouldn't limited capital be used where it cuts deepest to launch sales activities? You’re wasting precious time on production. In the time it takes you to produce, ten sales deals could have been completed here. Besides, can you guarantee that what you produce will sell? If that were the case, the products of countless factories on the market would all sell out. The conflict between supply and demand is the key fulcrum of the entire market. You’re picking up the sesame seeds and forgetting the watermelon."

From his practical perspective, he didn't seem wrong. Rang Weidong couldn't explain that these vacuum-packed snacks would eventually produce Shangzhou’s first multi-millionaire, nor did he want to reveal in front of everyone that his "Panda" advertising campaign and the student sales teams he was forming across the country were already taking shape.

As he hesitated, Yu Qili launched into a torrent of business philosophy: don't get bogged down in the complex relationships of production and labor assets; focus on trade. Rang Weidong didn't argue. With several former members of the special investigation team present, he knew that whatever he said would likely be on their desks in a transcript by tomorrow morning.

Back home at dinner, he complained a little to Dong Xueying: "Is he afraid of being labeled a capitalist? He’s adamant about not running a production plant himself. I actually think at this stage... only by building a factory can you truly weather the storms for decades to come."

In his memory, several major suit brands and home appliance giants seemed to have established their footing during this very stage, eventually accumulating hundreds of millions in assets. He didn't really know that most of these were still state-owned enterprises. As for the kind of "empty shell" trading that Yu Qili emphasized—wouldn't that just end up like fetching water with a bamboo basket? The more he interacted with him, the easier it was for Rang Weidong—with his hindsight—to grow suspicious.

Dong Xueying put some food on his plate: "At the trading firm, they talked a lot, and I was mostly at the counter, so I didn't have much contact. It was only after he was detained that I became the only one on the outside, visiting him two or three times a month to pass messages. You are both remarkable men; this must be a dispute over the path forward. I’m on your side, hehe."

Rang Weidong scratched his head: "It’s not a dispute. I just don't agree with his methods. I still need to learn from his courage and his way of thinking, for instance, today..."

Just then, a village girl who had gone out to explore the "big city" after a few quick bites of rice ran back: "Sister Dong, there’s a phone call for you at the intersection."

Dong Xueying hurriedly set down her bowl and chopsticks, took off her apron, and walked away quickly. Her pale blue shirt and black trousers were pulled tight.

Li Erfeng also added food to Rang Weidong’s bowl: "Why do I suddenly feel like she’s acting a bit flirtatious?"

Rang Weidong was surprised inside—are women always this sensitive? He kept his expression steady: "Is she? They’re all the same, I suppose. I’m telling you about this food plant—you’re the only one who can really handle it. I’ll have to travel frequently between Jiangzhou and Shangzhou for a while, and the workshops there need to be put into operation. Keep a close eye on these things..."

With no one else available externally, and the village boys too afraid to take responsibility—even less capable than Goudan—only Erfeng was feisty enough to shoulder the load. Possessing a completely different level of initiative, she listened intently to his instructions.

Dong Xueying returned shortly, beaming: "It was a call from Xiaoqing. She said she’s coming to Jiangzhou in a couple of days with the cadres from her assigned work unit. I want to go see her."

The stone business at the wharf was still on the books of the trading firm, and even with thin margins, it brought in a thousand or so, enough to cover miscellaneous expenses. But after last month, Dong Xueying had "stopped" her own salary, taking pay only from the food plant. In the last few days, she had become somewhat addicted to selling the deli items, and earning a hundred yuan a day had made her feel quite emboldened.

Rang Weidong nodded: "Alright, I should go back and check on things too. You go to Jiangzhou and get the lay of the land; we might need to set up the sales company structure sooner rather than later—to sell the snacks, to sell that other stuff, and to sell cameras..."

They were the type to leave as soon as the decision was made. After packing a few things, they checked which passenger ships were passing by the nearby wharf and arranged to leave that very night. Everyone hanging around the wharf for a living was eager to follow him and do something.

Thus, a group of seven or eight people set off. Shitou and Mao'er were also overjoyed to be going home to see their third sister. Li Erfeng stood on the shore, curling her lip as she saw them off. Dong Xueying teased her: "Don't worry, I might be back in a day or two."

Once on the boat, she teased Rang Weidong again: "If you want me to leave you two alone, just tell me not to come back." She was livelier than usual.

Rang Weidong, much like countless taciturn husbands, wore a baby carrier on his chest and skillfully used his camera to take photos of the beautiful young woman. Dong Xueying leaned her elbows on the ship’s railing to pose, then was reminded: "Xiaoqing said she hasn't seen Secretary Zhang from the Rongdu office. She went there several times but couldn't find anyone. She asked the camera factory that delivers the goods, and they said he had been transferred?"

Rang Weidong used the camera’s viewfinder to hide his face and replied calmly, "Oh, is that so?"

Dong Xueying didn't pay much attention; besides, she hadn't met him before. She was happy. The two times she had left Shangzhou before, it was to go to Beijing or the provincial capital to file complaints, or even the thrill of sneaking across the border. Life had never been as comfortable as it was now.

Rang Weidong was already quite experienced; he went aboard and took Shitou to help settle everyone. He then used his introduction letter to upgrade their two tickets to third-class sleeper berths. This changed their accommodation to an eight-person room similar to later university dorms, with private access to washrooms, toilets, and even a small dining area. This was the reality of the rift between those with connections and those without—while slogans were still being shouted everywhere, the gap in status had already been quietly widened.

So, what had been a grueling and exhausting journey just last year was now truly comfortable—one good night's sleep, and they had arrived. Yet, lying in the sleeper berth, Rang Weidong would occasionally think of that tall, slender figure.

Summer was the high-water season, and the river surged, flooding up to the stone steps. Shitou and Mao'er were too familiar with this place; they pretended to be naive, tugging on Rang Weidong’s clothes as they disembarked—no one knew how much work they had done here. Fortunately, they managed to restrain themselves, breathing a sigh of relief once they boarded the bus.

They pointed out the place where children’s toys and small commodities were sold. A few young men and women had been brought in to take over the siblings' stalls, and with Shen Cuiyue behind the scenes, business was still quite good.

The spicy hotpot stall was doing even better. It was only morning, and there was already a large crowd busy inside and out. Rang Weidong brought his group over, made a few brief introductions, and greeted his parents. He then took the mother and daughter to the guesthouse: "You rest here. I’m leaving a thousand yuan; buy whatever you need to prepare. Once Xiaoqing returns and her work unit is settled, we’ll see about renting a place so the family can live together. I have business to attend to."

The mature young woman didn't cling to him constantly, nor did she shy away from the thick stack of cash on the table. Instead, she looked around the room, admired the gold-lettered signs, stuck out her tongue, and began washing the clothes Rang Weidong had casually tossed on the coat rack. Watching Goudan and the others bring in large baskets of meat and vegetable skewers, and seeing Shitou and Mao'er jumping onto the truck as it rumbled away, she knitted her brows in concern. Yet, the corners of her mouth remained turned up.

She felt as if she had left the old, dilapidated street and the dim, rotting houses, having suddenly arrived in the bustling downtown of a big city. Looking up at the flocks of homing pigeons flying across the sky, everything seemed so free.

Goudan and the others delivered vegetables to the university "branch" every day and were already very efficient: "We need to get a refrigerator. They’re selling well over there, but the weather is getting hotter, and we can’t keep things fresh."

Rang Weidong leaned back in the passenger seat like a boss: "Ask around among the people here. Anyone willing to go on business trips can sign up. There’s a higher travel allowance, but once you’re out there, you have to be reliable and get things done. Two or three people out there isn't as lively or fun as it is here right now."

Goudan actually ceded authority: "Comrade Shen is the one managing everyone..."

Rang Weidong sighed helplessly. But most of the men from their village were like this. After finishing farm work, they loved to gather to play cards, leaving the women to worry about the family’s livelihood. He didn't see the back gate of the university, so he arranged to play basketball with Goudan later.

Then, the two little rascals were already impatiently crowding the car window, stretching their necks and waving vigorously at their third sister on the side of the road.

She was wearing the new suit she had bought for the meeting that day. She wasn't wearing the blazer; her white shirt was tucked into a gray skirt. She was standing on a stool, wearing a mask, her hair disheveled, shouting hoarsely: "Keep order! Line up! There’s enough, there’s enough for everyone! Are you all having your periods at the same time? What are you panicking for..."

It was clear at a glance that the scene was a massive success, with everyone scrambling to buy sanitary pads. Rang Weidong thought it might be better to just hand this business over to Shen Laosan; what was he, a grown man, doing running around in circles all day?