“Was it tough?”
“Did you feel pressured?”
Jiang Luo replied calmly, “If you feel wronged, or don’t want to do it, then don’t go anymore. The market can be developed later. At least we’ve already opened a small gap in Haicheng’s market and department stores.”
Wang Chuang clicked his tongue and turned to Jiang Luo. “I’ve been thinking about it… now I get it. I used to wonder—if business can succeed in small markets, why didn’t we start there instead of going straight for department stores? Why bother with managers at Pacific Department Store only to switch to Manager Yu at Yong’an Department Store?”
“Turns out your real goal was the department stores all along—to push our own brand into them.”
Jiang Luo smiled. “You’ve figured it out?”
“Damn.” Wang Chuang gave a thumbs-up. “Legendary! But you’re the one who’s truly legendary—you’d been planning all along.”
Jiang Luo steered the conversation back. “So, are we still going to Jinling? Still expanding the market?”
Wang Chuang leaned back, hands behind his head. “Of course. I’ve already taken the first step.” He clicked his tongue and sighed. “When I went to Wencheng, I thought trading goods from one place to another was business. Then I messed up Pacific Department Store, switched to small markets, thinking selling products people didn’t have was business. But going to Jinling… damn.”
“Those guys aren’t human,” Wang Chuang cursed. “They treat baijiu like water. Every night, I was hugging the toilet in the hotel. Out there, I acted like the boss, thinking they’d call me Boss Wang, but they called me Little Wang. ‘Little Wang, Little Wang’—someone who didn’t know might think they were calling a dog. Damn.”
Jiang Luo understood exactly—he had seen it all before, especially at business dinners. Wang Chuang was experiencing the same grind he once had.
Was it hard? Of course.
For business and money, one could be treated worse than a servant—or worse than a dog. Pride and face mean nothing in the climb upward.
But now, having been reborn, Jiang Luo had a clear, steadfast direction. His mindset had shifted; his vision broadened and matured. Many social obligations were no longer necessary.
If Wang Chuang wanted to take risks, fine. If it got tough, he could quit—no harm done. Jiang Luo didn’t want his close friend to be humiliated at dinners anymore.
But fate is subtle; everyone experiences things differently.
Wang Chuang had gone to Jinling, endured some hardship, returned enlightened. He finally realized the business world isn’t easy. Past successes weren’t just his own skill—they were Jiang Luo’s foresight. Could he always rely on Jiang Luo? Could he accomplish anything alone?
Wang Chuang refused to accept it.
So in Jinling, he forced himself to persevere, thinking hard, learning how to succeed on his own.
He said, “Though being humiliated at dinners made me miserable, when I finally closed a deal and saw them nod, I felt damn good. Damn satisfying.”
“I’ll go to Jinling again, and the other two big department stores. Then Beijing, Xi’an, all the major cities. I’ll make our brand national!”
Jiang Luo asked calmly, “You’re willing to be humiliated at dinners?”
“Sure! If it makes money and gets our brand nationwide, being humiliated for a few days is nothing.”
Wang Chuang wasn’t foolish: “Once we make money, we’ll flip the situation. Before, we served others; next, they’ll serve us. Fate always changes!”
Jiang Luo smiled quietly. Yes, fortune swings both ways—they would rise eventually.
But even a boss planning a triumphant comeback still returned home to his modest apartment and had to wash up with a basin.
Wang Chuang, holding the basin, muttered silently: Damn, before we rise, maybe I should get a new place with a proper bathroom and shower first.
After confirming the department store in Jinling that would carry the Shengfei brand, Wang Chuang, with two colleagues and the company seal, returned to sign the official contract and inspect the counters and spaces assigned to them.
Jiang Luo grew even busier—either in the office or at the workshop in Juxiang Town. He needed to teach employees to use new machines, discuss garment designs, stitching, fabrics with Zhang Ningfu, and coordinate with factories for labels and tags.
At the second silk factory, another employee meeting was held to address production adjustments.
With supervisors and workers all present, everyone had their own thoughts and attitudes. The factory manager explained the changes in detail, and the workers listened quietly.
At Yong’an Department Store’s third-floor counter for hair accessories, Mo Wanzhen assisted a female customer trying out high-end rhinestone hairpins. She creatively styled hair to match the accessories, and almost every woman who tried them bought multiple pieces. Her counter consistently had the best sales among nearby counters.
Meanwhile, students like Zhao Mingshi lived busy, fulfilling campus lives, attending classes, clubs, and occasionally student government.
In Pudong’s development office, Zhao Guangyuan was running nonstop, while Su Lan at a state-owned factory was tied up with adjustments and had no time to chat with colleagues.
On the streets, Zhao Shuo drove, calling on projects via his cell phone.
The small market behind the building had now turned into a supply hub with You Junyu and his team delivering goods to stall owners. Business was good, but You Junyu’s team was shrewd, rarely accommodating stall owners’ requests or exchanging goods as Jiang Luo once had—they sold strictly, “no returns once sold.”
Time moved on; people moved forward, unknowingly swept by the tides of the era.
Recently, Jiang Luo, with Zhang Ningfu, searched for fabric factories. They visited several in Haicheng and surrounding towns but were unsatisfied with the material quality or equipment. These factories couldn’t produce the fabrics Jiang Luo needed.
Originally planning another trip to Wencheng, Jiang Luo heard about a newly built large textile factory in Tongcheng, Northern Jiangsu, and immediately drove there with Zhang Ningfu.
The factory was huge and new, the gate grander than most others. Jiang Luo’s Mercedes added to his presence; the security guard immediately let them in and called the director.
Like Zhang Zhigang before, the director treated them with utmost respect, warmly showing them around the factory.
Inside, the workshop was spacious with brand-new machines—German imports Jiang Luo recognized. He knew he’d come to the right place.
In the office, the director handed over a sample booklet. Jiang Luo and Zhang Ningfu reviewed and selected the fabrics they wanted.
The director, sipping tea across the table, noticed Jiang Luo’s watch—Rolex. Wealthy. Driving a Mercedes. From Haicheng. Definitely a big spender. Not to be underestimated.
With that, the fabric supply issue was effectively resolved.
Jiang Luo then made several trips between Tongcheng and Jiading.
Huo Zongzhuo later remarked on the phone, “I didn’t realize Tongcheng had such a large factory.”