Zhang Hai walked over when he saw Wan Feng and Xiao Dexiang.
"Old Xiao, you're here!"
Zhang Hai and Xiao Dexiang greeted each other.
"Captain Zhang, I've delivered another 300 sets of molds today. Together with the 300 sets delivered last time, we've already delivered 600 sets, and there are still 400 sets to be delivered."
"Haha, thank you, Lao Xiao, you've finally solved our urgent problem. According to our agreement, you can go to our team accountant and withdraw half of the money first. I'll write you a note."
Zhang Hai took out a pen from his jacket pocket, took out a notebook, wrote something quickly, pressed his fingerprint, and handed it to Xiao Dexiang.
Xiao Dexiang took the note, waved goodbye to Wan Feng, and went to the team headquarters to get the money.
"My nephew, even if the shed is built and all the tiles that are being cured in the house are moved into the shed, there still doesn't seem to be enough space in the house. We can only produce 800 sets of molds, and the remaining 400 sets of molds will not be able to be used. It was right to build a bigger house when we built it in the first place."
"The wing of the team headquarters can be used temporarily. It's large enough to hold four hundred sets of molds. The only drawback is that our already limited manpower will be further dispersed."
Zhang Hai sighed heavily. "Looks like for now we can only hire people from outside the team like you did. Oh, and we have a lot of bricks, right? Can't we just take over a few houses?"
"That's fine. We can produce the house here and then build it here. As long as we have all the materials, it will be built in no time."
In an instant, the decadent air on Zhang Hai disappeared, and he became full of energy again.
Fortunately, there was such a caring person who cared about Wan Feng, so Wan Feng was able to live a leisurely life. After Xiao Dexiang received the money and followed the carriage delivering the mold away, Wan Feng also left the brick factory and came to Luan Feng's house.
Luan Feng's mother was chopping wild vegetables in the yard to feed the chickens and ducks.
"Aunt! Are you feeding the chickens and ducks?"
"Wan is here."
After saying hello, Wan Feng walked into Luan Feng's room.
Luan Feng was struggling with a hole in a pair of trousers at this time. The hole was sewn tightly with the needle and thread on the sewing machine.
"Oh! This patch doesn't look good no matter how I do it. It's making me so angry."
Wan Feng glanced at the trousers. It was a pair of blue polyester trousers that were still about 80% new. The hole was right on the front of the thigh. No matter how he sewed it, it would not look good.
"Whose pants?"
"Damn it, this slut must have gone into the woods with someone while watching a movie last night. She scratched a hole in her pants and asked me to sew it up."
Ma Fen is the third daughter of the Ma family and just started working in the team this year.
"She only had this one pair of pants. Seeing her so distressed, I almost cried. I wanted to sew it up for her, but it just didn't look good no matter what I did."
"How much does it cost to sew a patch?" Wan Feng took off the shoulder bag and prepared to take out the hand-drawn children's clothing drawings inside, and asked casually.
"It depends on the size and whether it uses cloth. If it does, it'll cost 1 to 1.5 cents more, depending on the size of the cloth. If it doesn't, you can tie it with needle and thread for 5 cents."
Wan Feng didn't expect that sewing patches would have a clear price tag. He thought it was free.
Although there were fewer people wearing patched clothes in the 1980s than in the 1960s and 1970s, there were still countless people wearing patched clothes.
Wan Feng walked to the sewing machine and saw how big the hole was.
"Can you embroider?"
Embroidery is not a high-tech thing in rural areas. Rural women can embroider handkerchiefs or something more or less since they are in their teens.
"Yes."
"Find a piece of cloth that's the same color as these pants, and embroider a flower on it. It doesn't have to be too big, just about the same size as the hole."
"Then sew it on the hole!" Wan Feng immediately thought of the result.
"It's okay, my head isn't full of corn porridge."
"You have a brain full of corn mush. I'm very smart."
Luan Feng immediately got to work, busy as a wasp, rummaging through boxes and drawers to find an embroidery frame.
Looking at the embroidery frame, Luan Feng was worried: "This embroidery frame is so big, how much cloth will be wasted?"
Five minutes ago, he was praising himself for being smart, but five minutes later, his IQ was zero.
"You wouldn't waste it if you embroidered all the stretched fabric."
"But Muffin's pants only have one hole?"
Wan Feng picked up a ruler and said, "Come here. If I knock on your head, will it make a gong-like sound? Is it made of solid iron inside?"
Luan Feng smiled at Wan Feng.
"So Muffin's pants can only be used by one person, but what if others, like Niufen, Zhufen, and Sheepfen, ask you to sew holes in them?"
Luan Feng stuck out her tongue and said, "Why do I become stupid when I see you?"
How can this be blamed on me? Am I the unlucky star in the rumor?
"You're just stupid."
"Don't let me be stupid, praise me for being smart."
"Praising you for being smart? Teachers have always taught us not to tell lies. Lies will be punished by thunder."
Luan Feng laughed while going to the pile of cloth to look for fabric of the same color as the pants.
"I think you should embroider more of these patterns when you have free time. It doesn't take much time, after all, it covers an area. When young women and wives discover that patches can be a form of beauty, many people will come to sew patches, and this can become an industry."
"I can't embroider them all. If there are too many, how can I have the time to embroider all day long?"
"You can find someone to embroider it. You provide the fabric, not the needle and thread. For a pattern this size, you can pay five cents. This kind of pattern doesn't need to be too precise, as long as the pattern is recognizable. I think there's definitely someone who can do it."
"Ah! Five cents! How much does it cost for me to patch it up?"
Wan Feng was furious: "Can you be any dumber? Do you know how Zhu Bajie died?"
"How did he die?" Luan Feng asked sadly.
"Stupid!"
"I'm stupid again!" Luan Fengsheng complained.
"You can charge more and include the cost of hiring someone to embroider the work. The wool comes from the sheep, right? If you charge one and a half to two wools, the cost will be covered."
Luan Feng blinked a dozen times in succession: "Is anyone willing to spend two cents to sew a patch?"
"Hehe! Women can do anything for beauty. You won't go wrong if you listen to me."
"What kind of patterns are used?"
Wan Feng sighed deeply and said helplessly, "Flowers, branches and leaves, chickens, ducks, geese, dogs, houses, mountains—aren't there patterns everywhere? Wait until I draw you something you haven't seen before. Damn, I'm almost a painter. Okay, enough about the patches. Here's the pattern I drew for the children's clothes. Take a look."
Wan Feng took out the drawings from his bag and threw them on the kang.
He felt that hundreds of thousands of brain cells had died unjustly during this period of time.
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