Jiang Jianmin put on an air of knowing better. “Scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants—small merchants are the lowest of the low.”
Zhang Xiangping shot back, “Oh please. What status are you talking about? You have any status? Then why aren’t you a factory director?”
The two bickered back and forth.
Afterward, Zhang Xiangping muttered, “If it really makes money, I’ll do it too. Who argues with money?”
“My skills aren’t any worse than those two country folks.”
“If they can make money and wear gold and silver, why can’t I?”
At the hospital, Zhang Ningfu insisted on being discharged. He didn’t want to stay another day or spend another cent.
He packed up while his wife and son were away, telling Xiao Lu to find the doctor and handle the discharge paperwork.
Xiao Lu looked conflicted. “Uncle, you still have a lot of IV drips the doctor prescribed that you haven’t finished.”
“Stay another two weeks.”
“If President Jiang finds out, he’ll blame me.”
“And if you’re discharged, where will you live? The place you stay at the factory can’t compare to a private hospital room like this.”
Zhang Ningfu, dressed in striped hospital pajamas, stood by the bed, bending over to stuff clean clothes into his bag as he spoke. “I eat in the cafeteria anyway. If I live at the factory, I can get my own meals. No need for you to keep arranging people to come back and forth every day.”
He added, “Didn’t President Jiang set up a clinic at the factory? I can take the IV meds back and have them administered there. Same thing.”
Xiao Lu watched his back and sighed quietly.
After a moment, he asked, “Uncle… are you in such a hurry to be discharged because you don’t want to see Auntie and the others?”
Zhang Ningfu’s hands paused mid-pack. He said nothing, lowered his head again, and continued in silence.
After a long while, he finally muttered, “I’m going back to work. I have to run the factory. It can’t be left without anyone.”
At Haimen County People’s Hospital, Chen Xianlong lay on his bed, holding a brick-sized cell phone, crying as he spoke in Malay to the person on the other end.
“It’s too savage. Completely unreasonable.”
“They said I never bought shares in their factory, wouldn’t let me in, even let dogs loose on me and chased me out.”
“I got hit by a car from the underworld, and a man slapped me twice.” Sob, sob.
“Boss, you really should come see this yourself.”
………………………………………..
The factory’s expansion and investment were already showing results.
All the equipment on every production line had been replaced, and workers were continuously being recruited and trained.
The workshops ran day and night. In addition to producing clothes for the four Vilannido counters, they also began manufacturing affordable garments according to Jiang Luo’s original plan—clothes meant for places like small markets. The factory arranged for these items to be shipped across Haicheng, especially to neighborhood markets, where small shop owners could pick and choose. All of these garments bore the same label and tag: Shengfei Apparel.
The small shop owners were delighted as they browsed. “These are really nice.” “I’ve never seen styles like this before.”
“Aren’t these the kinds of designs you only see in department stores?”
Boss Wang Chuang personally sat in, a cigarette in his mouth, sounding worldly and seasoned. “Grab them while you can. That’s all there is.”
Then he added, “Budget goods. Ten, twenty, thirty yuan a piece. You taking them or not? If not, I’ll leave them for someone else.”
A few days later, Jiang Luo officially returned to work. His arm was still in a sling when he went back to the factory. Aside from a wound on his forehead that hadn’t fully healed, he looked just like usual—laid-back and cocky.
At the same time, there were now two extra men and an extra car around him. His own vehicle had temporarily been swapped out for Huo Zongzhuo’s BMW, driven by Fourth Brother.
The additional black Volkswagen was driven by a man called Third Brother, with Wang Junqing in the passenger seat. The two followed Jiang Luo’s car closely—personally “appointed” by Huo Zongzhuo to protect him.
Jiang Luo knew it was well intentioned and didn’t refuse. He valued his life too and had no desire to cash out early.
Xiao Lu panicked the moment he saw them.
One, two, three of them—Wang Junqing, then Wang Junqing No. 2 and No. 3. Every one of them was big, tall, and fierce-looking. Just one meal for the three probably meant a whole kilo of rice.
President Jiang… they wouldn’t gang up on me and use me as a punching bag for fun, right? QAQ
Fourth Brother came to the factory and joked to Wang Junqing, who also had his arm in a sling. “Hey, your President Jiang’s secretary is kinda interesting—soft skin, tender-looking, and he won’t even look at us. You bully him before?”
Third Brother, who knew Fourth Brother well, said from the side, “You’re the one noticing how tender he looks. You’re the one who wants to bully him.”
Fourth Brother snorted. “No way. President Jiang’s secretary—he’s not just anybody.”
When Xiao Lu later brought them meals from the cafeteria, he used a washbasin to serve the rice.
Fourth Brother and Third Brother were stunned.
Damn—so we’re pigs now?
Jiang Luo went to inspect the workshops, then checked out the latest Shengfei sample garments from the pattern-making room.
Zhang Ningfu, who had also returned to work, was confused. “We were selling to department stores before. Why aren’t we continuing with that?”
Flipping through the samples, Jiang Luo replied calmly, “How many department stores does Haicheng have? How many nationwide? And how much foot traffic?”
“We bought all that machinery, hired all those people, running three shifts and overtime. Of course we have to sell to more people.”
“Selling one piece at 1,500 yuan takes effort. How many people can afford a 1,500-yuan outfit?”
“Sell at fifty—sell fifty pieces easily. You’ll make more money overall.”
Zhang Ningfu nodded, finding it very reasonable. No wonder Shengfei’s fabrics were affordable and production was fast—that was the point.
Jiang Luo finished reviewing the samples, tossed one casually onto the table, picked up the next, and continued, “Once Haicheng and the surrounding areas know there’s a factory like this, we won’t need to haul clothes out to sell them.”
“No need to open storefronts either. Just clear out a warehouse and let small shop owners come pick for themselves.”
“Once volume picks up, people will come to collect goods and sell them elsewhere.”
“No rush. Step by step.”
A couple of days later, Jiang Luo brought Huo Zongzhuo to Haimen to meet various people.
Huo Zongzhuo sat to the side, watching Jiang Luo talk business about the Hongming garment factory.
Right from the start, Jiang Luo did something that made Huo Zongzhuo smile quietly—impressed by how sharp he was.
Back then, Huo Zongzhuo would only put the briefcase on the table after drinks and dinner.
Jiang Luo didn’t bother with that. The moment he sat down, he placed a thick stack of cash on the table and said with a smile, “Sorry about this—I don’t really drink. How about tea today? Tea instead of alcohol?”
What could the other party say? For the sake of the money, tea it was.
Huo Zongzhuo sat there quietly amused, looking at Jiang Luo the way one looks at a grown child—approval, amusement, a hint of helplessness, and unmistakable admiration and indulgence.
So Huo Zongzhuo accompanied him, watching Jiang Luo negotiate over Hongming.
What were they talking about?
Why bother, when the shares were already bought?
Because the shares Huo Zongzhuo had bought to replace Chen Xianlong—on Jiang Luo’s behalf—amounted to only 45%.
The remaining shares were split as follows: 20% held by the original factory director and several managers, 20% jointly held by the Haimen County government and the local power bureau, and the small remaining portion pooled together by more than fifty original factory workers.
In other words, Hongming’s situation was complicated.
If Jiang Luo wanted full operational control without being constrained by the other shareholders, he had to secure their support.
How?
Not complicated at all.
Huo Zongzhuo had already demonstrated—throw money at it. Money makes even ghosts push the millstone.
So that day became Huo Zongzhuo watching from the side as Jiang Luo opened his briefcase, smiling as he slid it forward, then calmly and steadily negotiated.
Huo Zongzhuo found it immensely pleasing to watch. His child—someone he had taught—was bound to surpass him. Excellent.
But soon, Jiang Luo ran into an “obstruction.”
The workers holding 15% of Hongming’s shares, along with several ringleaders among them, refused to meet him.
Jiang Luo asked the former factory director, the management, and even local town connections to help—but the workers still wouldn’t budge.
New to the situation, Jiang Luo knew there had to be a reason. He spent some money to have people investigate.
He didn’t leave, staying at the county government guesthouse in Haimen.
Huo Zongzhuo wasn’t there—he was busy with work in Haicheng—but he called Jiang Luo. After hearing the situation, he said slowly, “If you don’t settle things with the workers, any attempt to reform the factory’s operations will fail.”
“They’re shareholders, but they’re also workers.”
“I’m more inclined to think they’re refusing to meet you from a worker’s standpoint.”
Standing by the guesthouse window, holding the brick phone to his ear, Jiang Luo laughed. “I knew it wouldn’t be that easy.”
“Running a factory you acquired through shares is way harder than starting your own.”
He sighed, half-joking. “I’m not exactly short on money. If I’m going to waste time like this, I might as well build a new factory.”
“With this much effort, the signboard for a new one would already be up.”
“Who even named it Hongming? Terrible name.”
Huo Zongzhuo immediately said, “Sounds like you already have a solution.”
Jiang Luo’s tone was casual, almost flippant. “What solution? A factory that hasn’t reopened, where everyone’s about to starve together—after spending a lot of money buying shares—you think those workers can hold out for long?”
“They don’t need to eat? Starve together?”
“Once the factory shuts down, no money, wages stop. Even if I don’t go to them, they’ll come to me.”
Huo Zongzhuo laughed. “That may be true, but I know you won’t do that.”
“At Juxiang Town, you took over all the workers from the oil factory.”
“You’re a boss with a conscience when it comes to workers.”
Jiang Luo replied, “Not even half as good as you.”
Huo Zongzhuo said, “Is that a compliment—or an insult?”