When the buck-toothed man heard that she was coming, he drove a Volkswagen to pick her up. This car was not yet available in mainland China, but the buck-toothed man was driving it, so it was most likely a smuggled car.
Bucktooth Hu sent a telegram to Chu Yu, inviting her to the factory to see the styles. Bucktooth Hu's stall had limited styles, but the factory had a full range of styles, including some export orders, and the factory kept samples of all of them.
The factory is also making samples for the new styles for the second half of the year and next year. Taking Chu Yu to the factory was to apologize for selling her the red down jacket last year. People in Guangzhou don't watch the Spring Festival Gala, so the buck-toothed guy didn't know that the red clothes were sold out. Chu Yu was his big customer, but he gave her the unsold item. He had to at least make something of it.
Bucktooth Hu's factory is in the suburbs, and it takes more than 20 minutes to drive there.
On the way, the buck-toothed man received a phone call, cursed "bastard," and turned around with a smile: "Ms. Zhou, my relatives abroad asked me to handle some matters, so I have to go there first."
"You go ahead with your work, we're not in a rush. Our main task today is to visit your factory to check on the products."
The car made several turns and finally stopped at the entrance of the alley. Chu Yu and Shu Lan sat in the car and waited. The buck-toothed man ran upstairs and soon directed the workers to move a pile of old goods downstairs.
"Mr. Hu, are you moving?" Chu Yu asked.
“It wasn’t me moving. It was an elder relative of mine whose son went abroad in the 1960s, leaving the elderly couple to live in China. A few years ago, the elderly couple passed away one after the other, leaving this house behind. I called their son, but he was abroad and refused to come back, so he asked me to help him sell the house.”
The buck-toothed bear was covered in sweat and poured out his grievances to her.
"I can sell the house, but there's so much stuff in the house—the old lady's diary, letters to her son, clothes she made for her grandson, and so on. I can't just sell it all, can I? It's all her heartfelt gift. And that scoundrel actually told me to pack it all up and sell it to the scrap collector. Can you believe how angry I am?"
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