Even if the product is made to look like dog shit, the implementation still turns out like ginseng fruit.

"Let's hear it. Which gang are you from?" The Beijing police had the casual, indifferent tone of people well-used to all sorts of odd characters and eccentric travelers from across the country.

Shen Cuiyue started trembling again.

The aftershocks of the "Strike Hard" anti-crime campaign always left people like this.

As someone carrying a firearm, Rang Weidong fit perfectly into this colorful underworld profile of pickpockets, swindlers, and con artists. Consequently, he had been handcuffed upon entry—and not just normally, but given the worst kind of reverse arm-lock behind his back.

At that moment, he couldn't help thinking that if he actually carried around that group photo Jin Zhuoqun had mentioned, it might have been even more effective than the gun.

If not for his rebirth, wasn't he doing pretty much the exact same thing a year ago, getting arrested while peddling melon seeds?

So he still had to find a way to avoid ending up like that.

Fortunately, after a year of hard knocks, he wasn't flustered: "Officer, we just didn't get a chance to explain! Look, look, look—my shin guard holds my firearm license and work permit, and in my breast pocket, I have a business travel introduction letter. If it weren't for the rule on planes requiring us to check our weapons, my issued gun wouldn't have ended up in my bag where it got stolen."

The precinct was extremely busy. They had grabbed the most robust-looking one—Rang Weidong—and slapped cuffs on him in the heat of the moment without even searching him first.

The three siblings, by contrast, were just chained together in a row.

Hearing this, someone came over and unzipped Rang Weidong's slacks, discovering two thousand yuan wrapped around his leggings and his crucial identification papers. Most importantly, upon scrutinizing the "photobooth glamour portrait" on his ID, they immediately took off the handcuffs.

Of course, the scene Third Brother Shen would remember for the rest of his life was how everyone burst into laughter the moment they saw Rang Weidong's flashy, custom-dyed plaid boxer shorts.

The interrogating officers joked that they had never seen a criminal wear underwear like that—so brand new, and stretching so tight.

Even the nervous Shen Cuiyue couldn't help laughing out loud.

Rang Weidong felt like dying of social embarrassment inside, but he managed to keep a straight face: "If necessary, you can call Senior Journalist Tan from the *Sunshine Daily*, and have the agency come pick me up. Didn't they issue me an introduction letter back in March?"

The officer flipped through the stack of introduction letters Rang Weidong loved to collect, then looked at the work permit for a numbered military factory as deputy director. He believed him eight percent; the remaining two percent of doubt was simply because this deputy director looked way too young.

Turning his attention mainly to the other three, the officer held up a razor blade: "Is this yours?"

The ornate hairpin had magically returned to Third Brother Shen's hair, mainly because that pickpocket's wrist tendons had been so cleanly sliced!

The citizens of Xicheng District were quite fond of gossip. Someone had fished the discarded razor blade right out of a corner of the train compartment and handed it to the police, specifically pointing out the youngest kid.

Rang Weidong only now got a clear look at it—it was just an elementary school student's wooden pocketknife!

The casing was shaped like a woodpecker; it was probably the kind of cheap trinket those two little bastards sold outside primary schools.

Yet it had been sharpened to a blinding gleam and oiled up!

Pointed out by the policeman in uniform, Stone looked thoroughly terrified: "It's mine! I saw him use a blade to cut my big brother's bag, so I wanted to use mine to cut him back! Hmph!"

The lifelike childish act made the experienced police officer look over it again and again without finding a single flaw.

Rang Weidong, now experienced himself, chimed in: "This female comrade of ours is the manager of the Jiangzhou Sanitary Napkin Factory. You can contact the Jiangzhou Police Department to verify—she frequently deals with them and provides welfare supplies for the female officers. Or how about I make a phone call and get your precinct set up with some first? The whole reason we came to Beijing was to handle women's welfare work for the All-China Federation of Supply and Marketing Cooperatives, the *Sunshine Daily*, the Women's Federation, and the police departments."

The pickpocketing gang's junior member, having regained her composure, displayed her professional skills and quickly pointed to the slashed artificial leather bag: "There's a bag inside. Ask the female comrades here if any of them need any. This is the exact work we do."

Nothing worked better than this tactic. Once the female officers in the station saw the items, instant trust was established: "Both the business card and the work permit are right here. At a glance, you can tell they're decent people."

Then they looped arms with Third Brother Shen and asked in low voices where they could buy them.

Shen Cuiyue, now well-versed in this, instructed them to report it upward, find higher-level union officials or workplace women's directors to contact them, and get them for sixty cents a bag as employee welfare. But she warned them to be quick: they had only brought 20,000 packs to Beijing this time, and supposedly universities had already snatched them all up, with more shipments on the way and many units waiting.

The veteran policeman re-examined Rang Weidong's holster, verified that the style originated from the Shangzhou Police Department, and gave a solemn warning: "Pay attention to firearm safety! If you let it leave your body and get stolen again—this is Beijing, and that would be a major offense!"

Rang Weidong nodded repeatedly in agreement, explaining that it had been inconvenient to openly display it ever since leaving the airport, and who would have thought they couldn't even find a taxi once they entered the city proper, leading to this mess.

In the end, they only managed to leave after the union director of the Beijing Municipal Public Security Bureau rushed over, thoroughly inspected the remaining half-pack of hand-rolled cigarettes, and strongly demanded that local units be prioritized for the supply.

Leaving behind various contact information, the four of them finally managed to slip away.

Once outside, they immediately started criticizing the youngest: "Why did you have to show off? You just *had* to slice his wrist tendons so precisely without hitting the artery, making sure everyone knew you were a knife expert. I saw those veteran cops looking suspicious!"

"Grandpa, I shouldn't talk back, but you insisting on carrying iron hardware was also kind of showing off..."

"Look at the mess you made! Why did the wheel of misfortune have to land on your side when we were all standing guard? This is all because you stalled. If we had just blocked them from the start without making a scene, none of this would have happened."

"You have the nerve to talk! Seeing someone shout, you should've just blocked them outright instead of making Third Sister do the dirty work!"

Talking all at once, they gave Rang Weidong a massive headache: "I have to go buy a car. This is way too inconvenient."

It felt like traveling from Guangzhou to Shanghai and then to Beijing—the further north they went, the more it seemed outsiders were deliberately kept out of the city, throwing every possible inconvenience in their way.

In truth, people from all over the country loved crowding into these major cities, which genuinely caused massive congestion.

The locals all rode bicycles.

None of the four folks from Mountain City knew how to ride, so in the end, they had to grumble and squeeze onto a public bus once again.

He Meiling and two other partners were waiting by the university roadside, stretching their necks in anticipation.

Seeing the "video game customer service" again after half a year, they still felt a sense of warmth and excitement.

Rang Weidong immediately gave them a face-to-face surprise: "How much cash do we have from sales proceeds? Damn... 160,000? This much?!"

He Meiling quickly explained: "Following financial discipline, we immediately wire-transfer all sales returns and only ship new batches after clearing the previous ones. To avoid delaying delivery times this time, we pooled our commissions and bonuses so we could wire the funds and ship early. But the amount for the radio recorders this time was indeed huge. Normally, the accounts receivable should have been sent back in installments, but Old Han said you were coming to Beijing to shoot commercials and would need cash, so we temporarily kept it on the books. We strictly followed financial discipline..."

Rang Weidong waved a hand: "Let's go. Where do people usually buy and sell cars in Beijing? Let's go buy one for the Beijing branch office to use from now on. It'll make our business trips more convenient. Today was a complete disaster."

The college students tried hard not to show their joy, exchanging frantic winks.

They knew the company's products sold effortlessly, that funds were abundant, and that the business had great prospects, but they hadn't expected the boss to be this loaded.

The two male students quickly consulted each other: "Let's go, ride over."

They had to head toward the East Third Ring Road. He Meiling also went to fetch a bicycle, taking Third Brother Shen with her.

The burly male student from the Geology Institute rode a heavy-duty "Flying Pigeon" bicycle, carrying two people—one in front, one behind—while Zhang Lingyun from the Aviation Institute carried Rang Weidong. Ignoring the scorching July midday heat, they pedaled away fiercely.

This gave Rang Weidong a chance to chat with the student who was also graduating this year: "First go get a driver's license. If there's no driving school, find a way around it—like affiliating with some company or factory. You can always find a method. For instance, I got my license through a prefecture-level transport company. Having this thing makes working much easier."

Zhang Lingyun felt an endless surge of energy: "Understood! That mindset of identifying a goal and figuring out any possible way to achieve it—we'll apply that to our work."

Rang Weidong went down the list, introducing the cameras, sanitary napkins, radio recorders, and small snacks: "The latest batch of goods brought over from the Jiangzhou railway transport includes fifty pounds of snacks. You can try considering where to offer them as trial-tasting experiences first. Sales and distribution come next. Look, today we got hauled into the police station, but we accidentally established a connection with the Beijing police regarding sanitary napkins. We can play that card hard..."

The young man listened until his blood boiled, standing up on the pedals!

He completely exhausted the female student carrying Manager Shen.

Still, everyone was used to this pace by now; an hour or so didn't even feel like a long distance.

Rang Weidong also basically figured out the sales situation in Beijing.

It was rooted in universities, especially clustered around the North Third Ring Road. The seven of them had already mobilized and recruited dozens, if not a hundred, students from various campuses to assist with sales, making it very easy to spread out their operations.

Camera sales were slightly saturated, so they were trying to expand into areas outside universities. Just as that happened, the radio recorders arrived, followed by the sanitary napkins, and soon the snacks. This meant they could launch a multi-pronged attack and sell with absolute ease.

Thus, establishing a sales branch office was essential. Earlier, when one of their partners from the Medical College went out to do promotions and was hauled into the station on suspicion of speculation and profiteering, He Meiling and the others had to pull him out by presenting the Sunshine Daily Photography Contest agreement copies and the Xishan Factory sales authorization letters that Rang Weidong had shipped along with the goods.

Proper corporate paperwork was definitely necessary.

Rang Weidong nodded and gave instructions, much like he had to the manager of the Shanghai branch: "Keep an eye out for a suitable office space during normal times. Or if the company or individuals are allowed to purchase housing, notify the headquarters so we can buy it as a fixed asset, giving everyone a permanent root here."

Zhang Lingyun pedaled so hard he felt like he was flying.

Wasn't this much more worth looking forward to than being assigned to some lifeless research unit or a broke, stagnant government office where people couldn't even afford a tea egg nowadays?

Ten-plus kilometers was nothing.

True to what the students from the Aviation and Geology institutes knew, buying a car in Beijing was actually quite difficult right now because people from all over the country came here to buy them.

After all, most places didn't manufacture cars, nor did they know where they were made, so everyone came to the capital to purchase them.

As a result, units buying vehicles internally required all sorts of quotas, which fell under the management of the Bureau of Materials for electromechanical products.

Rang Weidong's situation definitely couldn't go through that official route, so he had to try his luck near the Beijing Automobile Manufacturing Plant. There were sales departments there, as well as sales outlets for various automotive factories from across the country.

Yet when they arrived, sweating profusely—there was nothing!

Just like the sanitary napkins, cars produced everywhere at this time were high-demand goods that never lacked buyers. The moment they rolled off the production line, they vanished.

They were practically like magical ginseng fruit.