Chapter 76: Adults Truly Want It All

But today, Zhang Lanzhi was dressed in military uniform.

Perhaps she wanted to express her ultimate allegiance, or maybe she was simply coordinating with the theme of military-civilian integration for the day.

Whatever the reason, the effect was extraordinary.

It also subtly influenced the direction of events.

Wei Dong, who originally intended to drive back to the Telecommunications School, retrieved Dong Xueqing’s single-cassette recorder.

This young woman had even sewn a patterned cloth cover for the recorder, wrapping it up like a precious military satchel.

It made Wei Dong chuckle, but also sparked new ideas.

The press station owned only one 212 Jeep. When they met at the electronics factory in the outskirts, Wei Dong, curious, switched seats with the driver and drove into the factory himself, which completely dispelled any thoughts of acquiring such a vehicle—worse than a truck, it jostled like crazy.

Editor-in-chief Lao Feng seized the scene to chat with the factory leaders: “Wei Dong has been driving around several third-tier factories in Jiangzhou, assisting with sales, streamlining products, and accumulating rich market experience. He’s very steady and mature, and only now does he show a bit of youthful flair.”

Indeed, as one of those reform talents so popular with enterprises and official media alike, Wei Dong looked far too young.

Especially now that Dong Xueqing had dressed him up, gone was the rural air—he was the epitome of fashionable youth.

He was accompanied by two young women.

One, slender and delicate in a black turtleneck, always greeted with a smile; the other, tall and elegant in green military attire, maintained a stern and serious demeanor.

Each had her own distinctive charm, drawing everyone’s attention.

They all sat in the conference room, with quite a few factory staff and cadres crowding the doorway, poking their heads in out of curiosity.

It was rather unruly, with little respect for the factory leadership—clearly, everyone relied on their iron rice bowls, never having heard of dismissal or redundancy.

How could such attitudes produce good products?

Wei Dong, who had only seen the products at city meetings before, felt his confidence waver.

Sure enough, when he brought out Dong Xueqing’s recorder and explained his concept: “First, make your model smaller. The cassette compartment on top, speaker below—this way, the size is close to a thick book. Finish it with a plastic cover, so it can be stored like a book on a shelf.”

Madam Shi’s son had such a recorder in junior high, often practicing spoken English at the gatehouse, leaving a deep impression on Wei Dong.

Lao Feng and Yu Songhai nodded in earnest agreement, affirming it was a good idea.

But the factory side immediately shook their heads: impossible, lacking the technical foundation, throwing in a slew of professional jargon to stifle further discussion.

Such a compact device would require different circuit boards and components, possibly needing the world’s most advanced integrated circuits, which Rongdu simply couldn’t produce.

This was typical: not hungry enough yet to feel urgency, still fantasizing about upper-level support and finding every excuse to shirk responsibility.

In later years, private enterprise bosses would have slammed the table and yelled for such people to get out.

This is why state-owned enterprises fell behind private ones.

But since private enterprise wasn’t yet strong, Wei Dong had to compromise: if small isn’t feasible, go big—but their supposed high-end wooden cases would need to be replaced by plastic.

Again came excuses and refusals: “In 1978, our craftsmanship won Sichuan’s second prize for electronics and the first prize for quality nationwide; how could we change so easily? Besides, we don’t manufacture plastic cases.”

Wei Dong’s patience, never robust, was wearing thin—what nonsense!

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Always finding reasons to refuse—no wonder bankruptcy awaits!

It takes looming starvation, as at Xishan Factory or Hongguang Factory, to spark any urgency.

He was ready to leave.

His negotiations with the SLR camera factory had gone much the same way.

Lao Feng and Yu Songhai hurriedly smoothed things over: “The Third Factory does have strength; technological breakthroughs fit the new reform spirit of tackling tough challenges.”

Still, they had to coax.

Unexpectedly, Zhang Lanzhi spoke up: “Our factory can do it; phenolic plastic is already mature.”

Her military uniform shielded her from reproach for interjecting, and the factory folks only dared to ask which factory.

Zhang Lanzhi proudly gave a number, silencing everyone.

Military factories are divided into many systems: aerospace, logistics, armaments, and so on—each distinct. Electronics factories focus on radio, radar, communications; optical instrument factories naturally prioritize durable cases, with one even supplying aerospace.

Each has its own foundation.

Phenolic plastic came from Soviet technology—more robust and cost-effective than European and American polyethylene, though dull and dirty in appearance.

Lao Feng and Yu Songhai quickly agreed: could the case be supplied by that factory, with the Third Factory focusing on circuit boards and speakers?

They still wanted to consolidate local appliance factories.

With the new approach, Wei Dong relented: “Going big is easy. An oversized case and speaker, though the internals stay the same, costs little more but can be sold at a higher price. At the same price point, ours would be bigger and flashier, sure to outsell competitors.”

He sketched a childlike recorder on the conference room blackboard, making Dong Xueqing struggle to suppress a smile.

Emulating Zhang Lanzhi, she solemnly took notes.

But the radio factory again objected—one excuse after another.

Phoenix’s delicate lips soon curled into a frown.

Such a pretty girl, ready to burst into anger!

The meal is at their lips and still they won’t eat.

Wei Dong, exasperated, looked to Lao Feng and Yu Songhai: “We’ve spent considerable money preparing a nationwide advertising campaign to boost sales to 100,000 units, perhaps more. Are you not interested?”

The factory stubbornly insisted: “We have existing products. In '74, we won a national silver medal; in '78, more awards, and people love them. We should refine these products for a brighter future.”

Wei Dong was speechless: “Times have changed, gentlemen. It’s now 1984, ten years on, and we’re striving for modernization. Your main product is radios, but now it’s all about cassette recorders—a huge gap. So modify your imitation recorder as I suggested: bigger and flashier, or you won’t compete with coastal factories.”

The factory kept dodging, wanting only to stick with radios, and the new recorder was just an imitation, with no desire to innovate.

Besides, your proposed changes are just words—if R&D goes wrong, who takes the blame?

If it weren’t for the press bringing them, nobody would bother.

So many concerns and excuses, unwilling to take risks or change the production line, with workers at the door clamoring: why change what we know?

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Finally, Dong Xueqing couldn’t hold back: “If you won’t do it, don’t bother. Brother, let’s go elsewhere—the Telecommunications Equipment Factory is experimenting with electronics. Let’s check it out.”

Wei Dong, throwing a helpless glance at Yu Songhai, set down his chalk and left: “Until hunger drives you, you won’t consider reform. Only when everyone is laid off will you realize reform isn’t a dinner party.”

Lao Feng tried to mediate, but Yu Songhai pulled him away: “It’s good to see various attitudes toward reform firsthand; I’ve observed this around Xishan Factory and Guozhou Daily Chemical Factory. Very representative. Let’s go see somewhere else.”

Their intention was to visit other military factories, fitting the theme of military-civilian integration.

But Wei Dong had already stepped out, listening as Dong Xueqing explained that the Telecommunications Equipment Factory was right on their campus—a school-run enterprise, but sizeable. Many students worked there part-time, assembling radios and experimenting with cassette recorders; her own was borrowed and dismantled, which distressed her, so she made a cloth cover to hide it.

Wei Dong laughed and suggested they head to the Telecommunications School.

Yu Songhai reminded Lao Feng that in February, files had pushed “factory-school collaboration” to drive technological innovation and transformation—a direction worth pursuing.

This made a huge difference.

School-run factories enjoyed simple, skilled, and inexpensive student labor, had grown quickly in just a year or two, and lacked the burden of retirees and rigid production lines.

Their technical foundation was strong; telecommunications majors abounded in radio expertise, but struggled to sell radios and didn’t know where to market cassette recorders.

Dong Xueqing only learned at the radio factory that Wei Dong was there to promote cassette recorder sales.

This was a perfect match; from factory director to school principal, all were eager to convene.

Even the vocational students’ hand-drawn designs were clearer than Wei Dong’s, and on the drive back, he explained to Dong Xueqing his vision for a larger model.

In fact, at Hongguang Factory’s shop, he’d originally bought a Sanyo dual-cassette recorder with foreign exchange vouchers for copying foreign language tapes—now it blared, “Spicy hotpot! Spicy hotpot! Five cents a skewer!”

Dong Xueqing had seen it in Jiangzhou and even helped record.

Wei Dong asked her to use that as a reference: “But make it bigger and more imposing, add colorful lights that flash, the speaker as large as possible, the sound as loud as possible—no dual-cassette copying, just single-cassette with volume.”

So the soon-to-graduate vocational students sketched the design before the principal and factory director.

Wei Dong elaborated: “Two models: the smaller, as compact as possible. If you can add a loop mode—ten seconds, twenty seconds, one minute replay—that would dominate the market for language learners. If not, at least provide fast and slow playback, making a perfect repeat machine for all who study foreign languages.”

Back at the Third Factory, with all their resistance and reluctance to innovate, Wei Dong hadn’t had the chance to discuss such details.

Now Lao Feng had to quietly admit to Yu Songhai: “Xiao Rang’s market sensitivity is truly remarkable; the Telecommunications Equipment Factory fits his vision much better.”

Because his presentation was repeatedly interrupted by applause.

From director to experts, all promised to find ways to realize these ideas, affirming the concept.

“We’ll make both large and small models!”

Zhang Lanzhi, having secured phenolic plastic casing from the factory next to Xishan, was visibly pleased and immediately called her factory with the good news.

Lao Cheng promised to send people to Rongdu at once.

Thus, some are doomed to suffer the pains of reform.

But by pausing for just a day or two, Wei Dong enabled others to seize a small opportunity and transform it into something remarkable.