Chapter 123: Sales Is King, the Pinnacle of the Era

It turned out there was an implicit connection between the deli business and the manufacturing of sanitary napkins. This allowed Rang Weidong to apply the design concepts from the sanitary napkin packaging directly to his snack products. He could even choose more efficient methods in Jiangzhou, a city far more advanced in terms of both materials and equipment.

For instance, following the logic Rang Weidong had grown accustomed to twenty or thirty years later, the sanitary napkin packaging should have been a beautiful, full-color printed plastic bag containing ten egg-roll-like packets, sealed after thorough cleaning and sterilization. However, plastic bags were genuinely expensive, requiring imported Heidelberg machinery. Including the color printing, it would cost over twenty cents per unit; since the product only sold for a yuan, that would eat up more than twenty percent of the margin. Everyone else thought it was unnecessary—a simple wrap of paraffin paper sealed with a dab of glue, topped with a colorful printed label, looked perfectly fine. In this day and age, even gifts were just two paper-wrapped parcels topped with red paper. There was no such thing as overly complex or fancy packaging. For the average consumer, being able to use the product at all was an upgrade; they weren't concerned about the wrapper.

Rang Weidong conceded the point. Upon inspecting the paraffin paper from the printing plant, he realized it was essentially the same material used for milk tea cups, just slightly thinner. Still, he habitually insisted on custom self-adhesive labels, even though the printing plant quoted twelve cents for them. Even Shen Cuiyue was baffled, wondering why he wanted to spend so much. She argued that standard printed labels, applied by hand with glue, would only cost two cents each. Why use these expensive, newly imported "foreign" stickers?

In the end, the finished product bore the signature style of the era: not overly trendy, but grounded and unpretentiously practical. The snack packaging followed suit, using thicker paraffin paper bags in various sizes—holding five, ten, or twenty pieces—all finished with the same uniform color-printed label. It kept costs to an absolute minimum.

By evening, everything was submitted for printing samples. Rang Weidong finally finished his work and headed back to the city. Over the course of the day, he had grown familiar with the twenty or so students and faculty from the mechanical and materials departments, and the dozen or so village youths were also starting to get the hang of the "production line." The workshop was a two-story building; the upper level served as an office, while the other two rooms were divided into male and female dormitories. Things were finally getting on track.

Rang Weidong happily took the bus back to Gourmet Street. Shen Cuiyue saw him off to the station as usual. But when he returned to the spicy hotpot shop, he found Dong Xueying with the baby strapped to her back, her hair damp and clinging to her face from sweat, working tirelessly by the stove. Clad only in an old, floral-patterned shirt with the sleeves rolled up, she perfectly embodied the industrious, virtuous nature of a Chuandong woman, combined with a graceful and vigorous posture. She looked every bit the ideal wife who could handle both the household and the world beyond.

He stood there, somewhat dazed and amused; he hadn't brought her to Jiangzhou for this kind of labor. The Rang couple, who had been laid off, were helpless to stop her. In their eyes, she was a young city bride; they would never dream of looking down on her, and they loved the baby so much that they wished their son would produce another one immediately. They couldn't understand why she was working so hard. They whispered complaints to their son: "She’s been managing the business for over three hours straight. At noon, she was just helping out and learning to sell, but tonight she wouldn't let us near the pots at all. Still, business is so good we’re about to sell out of everything."

Perhaps it was like the "Tofu Beauty" or the "Barbecue Queen"—if the vendor was attractive, it was easy to drive up business. Not to mention, with Dong Xueying wearing the baby carrier cross-strapped over her chest, it accentuated her figure so prominently that Rang Weidong saw pedestrians on the side of the road bumping into utility poles because they couldn't take their eyes off her.

He had no choice but to walk over, help her unbuckle the carrier from behind, and put it on himself. "You aren't without help here; why do you have to push yourself so hard?"

Dong Xueying was truly exhausted. "I don't feel secure enough, so I can only try to please the elders this way."

Rang Weidong couldn't quite grasp the underlying meaning of her words, but he felt a pang of heartache—mostly because it was truly unnecessary. He beckoned his mother to take over and led her away, his arm around her shoulders. The customers hadn't really thinned out, leaving behind a chorus of sighs—such a young, strong man, how lucky. Someone even took the opportunity to congratulate Rang’s mother: "Is that your daughter-in-law? The young couple is so affectionate."

Only then did Rang’s mother realize something. She craned her neck to watch her son escort his young wife toward the guesthouse, and she was immediately thrown into a state of disarray, causing the hotpot flavors for several customers to turn out wrong—a well-deserved consequence for gossiping.

Dong Xueying, feeling the fatigue in her limbs, leaned against Rang Weidong. Far from Shangzhou, in this completely unfamiliar metropolis, she had shed all her inhibitions. "How did it go today?" she asked.

She noticed he had changed into a new shirt and trousers and smelled of pleasant soap. She frowned, leaning in to sniff—her nose almost brushing his collar. She wasn't as tall as her sister, so she had specifically worn mid-heels when they left Shangzhou, but now her whole body felt soft and weak.

Rang Weidong was still excitedly explaining, "It's going well! We’ve got the packaging for both sides ready. When we go back to Shangzhou, we can take samples and try them on the deli items. Say, do you want to rest a bit, or should we go to the restaurant to eat now? I need to ask them to plate a few dishes so I can take photos."

Dong Xueying wasn't listening to a word he said. Her whole body was burning as she leaned against him, head bowed. "Let's go back and rest for a while... just for a while..." She even nudged him toward the guesthouse.

Rang Weidong had never experienced such initiative from a woman; back in the day, Zhang Lanzhi had always been full of resistance. He assumed she was just too tired to stand, so he held her tighter and walked back. The summer night was still young, and Gourmet Street was bustling with noise; countless eyes could see the shadows of this pair. Anyone with even a little experience could tell that a "hard battle" was about to ensue. By current standards, it was provocative street behavior—enough to warrant a police report for indecency—but seeing the child in the man's arms made it seem like nothing more than the natural intimacy of a young couple. People could only watch with envy.

By the time they crossed the parking lot and reached the stairs, Dong Xueying couldn't hold back any longer. Trembling, she stood on her tiptoes, hung onto Rang Weidong’s neck, and kissed him. She even nudged the baby aside slightly.

Rang Weidong finally realized: *Oh, so she’s this proactive!* When his hand slid from her rounded shoulder to her waist and pulled her in tightly, he felt a burning heat. He was ignited instantly, but he still had some sense left. He lifted her up and hurried upstairs. When she was fumbling everywhere for the keys, he felt like kicking the door down.

Once inside and the door was shut, as he unbuckled the baby carrier, he almost had to fend off the mother's frantic hands. He was actually a bit startled; he had never seen her like this before. He managed to place the baby on the opened sofa bed to keep her safe, kept the door open just enough to hear what was happening outside, and then rushed into the inner room.

It completely overturned Rang Weidong’s perception of her. Compared to his previous experiences, this was a different world entirely. By the time the story of "Zhao Zilong of Changshan" reached its climax, he had certainly forgotten all about going to the restaurant to order food. What did it matter if the deli snacks hit the market a day early or late? The matter at hand was the only thing that truly mattered. In Yuezhou, he had been the one "handling" his secretary, but now it was the other way around—Dong Xueying, having tasted the fruit, was insatiable, even weeping while they were in the midst of it. She would cry, then laugh, then after a moment’s thought, start all over again.

It was quite wild.

It wasn't until deep into the night, when the baby in the pitch-black room began to cry, that the mother finally gasped, "Oh no, the baby is hungry."

Apologetic and embarrassed, Rang Weidong hurriedly put on his clothes and went to the hallway water room to fetch hot water for the formula. When he returned, Dong Xueying had washed up, dressed neatly, and was sitting on the sofa holding the baby. "Weidong, I really love being with you like this, but I truly understand the saying, 'I hate that we didn't meet before I was married.' If I were still a maiden, I would certainly keep you by my side without a second thought, and no one would be allowed to compete with me."

Rang Weidong, possessing formula-mixing skills ahead of his time, knew to drip the water on the back of his hand to check the temperature. His heart skipped a beat at her words: "What? We’re already a married couple; what are you talking about now?"

Dong Xueying had clearly thought about it seriously. "I told you before, you blockhead, I’ll be by your side like this for the rest of my life. But you have to be considerate of your parents' feelings, and I have to be mindful that Xiaoqing likes you. So, before she comes back, we should be clear: occasional moments like this are fine, but you must never let Xiaoqing know and break her heart."

Rang Weidong, who had seen countless melodramatic web dramas, laughed out loud and took the bottle to feed the baby. "What kind of nonsense are you spouting? Dong Xueqing is an adult; she has her own future. Besides, she calls me 'brother-in-law' at every turn—isn't this perfectly legitimate?"

Dong Xueying still wanted to distance herself, leaning away as much as she could. "I don't care. We’re family now, and I don't want to be disliked by your parents. They are most satisfied with Xiaoqing."

Rang Weidong was not the type to be submissive and only listen to a woman. "Are you out of your mind? There’s no such thing as a wall that doesn't let the wind through. Sooner or later, your sister will find out about us. That’s what would be called a betrayal; she’d be the one truly hurt, knowing that the sister she trusts most in this world lied to her."

Dong Xueying fit the archetype perfectly: she was fine following instructions, but thinking for herself wasn't her strong suit. She had probably been turning this over in her mind for more than a day, only just realizing the "bug" in her logic. "Ah? Then what should we do?"

She looked back at the messy bed in the inner room and finally realized it might be too late.

Seeing her charming, bashful, and glowing expression, Rang Weidong felt the fire in his heart ignite once more. He laughed, stood up with the baby, and said, "What do we do? We do exactly that. She’s always wanted me to be her brother-in-law, so I will be. We will always be her family; that’s enough. Oh, and I’ve thought about it—the company will likely provide dorms. When she comes for work, we’ll see where she is and rent a place nearby so she can live independently. Tomorrow, I’ll look for a place for the three of us to rent as well. That would be a comfortable life..."

As he spoke, he strapped the baby carrier to the rattan chair, turning it into a comfortable hammock, and dragged over the wooden coat rack—a fixture in every guesthouse room—hanging the baby’s toys from it to sway and capture her attention. He turned back, scooped up the woman who was still dazed and lost in a warm, fuzzy haze, and amidst her flustered, ignorant struggles, went for another round.

This time, there was no refusal, not even the pretense of holding back—only a wholehearted surrender and merging. It was incredibly smooth.

By the time he finally moved the rattan chair back in, intending for the three of them to sleep, he ended up having to move it back out again because they were back in each other's arms. The poor baby had been moved back and forth several times. Dong Xueying, feeling embarrassed, wrapped herself in the sheet and giggled with her back to him. When Rang Weidong returned with the rattan chair and saw the curve of her bare back and waist, he couldn't hold back and turned to move it out again.

It was truly a case of a young man with the hottest fire meeting a youthful woman with the most abundant water—where could there be an end?

By the next afternoon, they were still tangled in a daze when the baby started crying again. They finally had to get up. Rang Weidong was resolute: "When Xiaoqing comes back, we'll send the baby to her for a while. She’s always crying from hunger; this won't do."

He had always loved children so much. Dong Xueying seemed to pout at the mention of her sister, clearly already plotting some other clumsy plan. Rang Weidong felt as if he had shed another layer of his old self, finding a new sense of masculine aura. He laughed, picked her up, and kissed her again. "Come on, let’s go to the restaurant to eat. We still need to take those photos."

A man—he finally felt like a real man.