Chapter 65 The Sixty-Fifth Day of Not Running Away The Sixty-Fifth Day of Not Running Away...
When they got outside, Liu Yan and Wen Chan saw an old man with a dusty face, carrying a faux leather bag and a bag of urea.
Calling him an old man isn't quite accurate, because he doesn't seem that old.
The old man was drinking water, holding a bowl and pouring it down his throat one bowl at a time.
It's even more exaggerated than how the fat man looked a few days ago.
"Grandpa, you were looking for me?" Liu Yan greeted him.
The old man quickly put down his teacup and stood up, but for some reason, he swayed and rolled on the ground, landing right in front of Liu Yan and Wen Chan.
"Oh dear, it's not a holiday, why are you giving such a big bow to the swallows?" A neighbor passing by teased jokingly.
The children around them all giggled.
Liu Yan rolled her eyes at the neighbor and said, "Go to hell, go do what you're supposed to do."
She and Wen Chan came over and helped the person up.
The man trembled, stammering, "I...I...I..."
Seeing his dusty face twitching uncontrollably, Wen Chan hesitated and asked, "Are you hungry?"
A blush rose on the man's dark face, and he froze, unsure whether to nod or shake his head.
Clang clang clang—
Clang clang clang—
When the neighbors heard that Liu Yan and Wen Chan had picked up a beggar, they all came to see what was going on.
What a sight! The beggar actually ate three bowls of rice in one go. Every time he got a bowl of rice, he would shovel it into his mouth like a pig rooting for food, and finish it in just a few bites.
Liu Yan quickly asked someone to go to the restaurant and get another pot of rice.
Judging by their appearance, they haven't been starving for just a day or two.
"This isn't a factory manager, he's clearly a beggar!" The monk's mother, watching the commotion, gossiped, "I bet some disaster struck somewhere. Remember back in the 70s, when people from out of town came to Beijing begging for food, they looked just like this."
Seeing that the man was about to continue eating, Wen Chan quickly pressed down on his bowl, saying, "Director Zhang, you can't eat anymore. You've drunk a lot of water and eaten so much rice. You need to take a break, or your stomach might burst."
Upon hearing Wen Chan's words, Liu Yan also realized, "Yes, we can't eat anymore. Eating so much in one meal will make us sick."
Factory Director Zhang glanced at the two of them, then put down his chopsticks, feeling embarrassed.
Wen Chan called Jiang Zihan to fetch a basin of water so that Director Zhang could wash his face and wipe his hands. After washing his face and hands, the water in the basin was as black as ink.
Jiang Zihan clicked her tongue in amazement and took the bowl down.
"What's going on? Why are so many people gathered here?" Chen Bozheng and the others had just returned when they saw a crowd gathered in front of their house. His heart skipped a beat, thinking that something had happened to Wen Chan, so he quickly squeezed through the crowd.
Upon entering, she saw a middle-aged man with a simple and honest face sitting on the sofa in her living room.
When Wen Chan saw Chen Bozheng return, she gave him a look, signaling him to chase away these neighbors who loved to watch the commotion.
Chen Bozheng understood and said to everyone, "Go home, everyone. Uncle Lin, Aunt Wang, it's almost dinnertime. If you don't go home and cook, you'll be angry when the people at work come back."
His words reminded everyone, and they finally realized what he meant.
"Oh dear, it's all because of this commotion. I was just about to buy some pork, so please don't close the pork stall."
"Hey, there's a pot sitting on the stove in my house."
Only then did these elderly men, women, brothers, and sisters leave.
Factory Director Zhang was very flustered, clutching his leather bag, with urea bags at his feet. "I...I really am the factory director, I have proof."
He pulled a crumpled certificate from the pocket of his cotton-padded coat.
The certificate does indeed bear an official seal and proves that he is the factory director of the Hongqiao Town Weaving Factory in Anhui Province.
"You're the factory manager, how did you end up like this?" Liu Yan asked in surprise.
This is the factory director, a leader after all, but the way Director Zhang looked just now, he was almost as bad as a beggar.
Speaking of this, Director Zhang felt heartbroken. "Our factory placed an order with a foreigner. Our Party Secretary, seeing that he was a foreigner, didn't ask for a deposit and just signed the contract with him. We treated him to good food and drinks for half a month. Then the foreigner suddenly had something to do and left. After that, we couldn't reach him by phone. The Party Secretary kept this from us until all the orders in the factory were completed. When I asked the Party Secretary for his phone number, he finally told me. I immediately panicked. I was afraid he was a scammer. The Party Secretary said no, that the foreigner had a liaison office in Beijing and told me to come to Beijing to look for him. I've been here for half a month, but I still haven't found him."
It is said that men do not easily shed tears, unless they are truly heartbroken.
At this point, Director Zhang burst into tears, which etched deep lines down his face.
"I didn't expect that you people in Beijing have to pay for everything, from food and drink to even the toilet. A bowl of tea costs 30 cents, a cup of water costs 20 cents, two steamed buns cost 50 cents, and a hotel costs 50 yuan a night, and you have to pull strings to stay. I really can't afford to eat or stay. It was only this morning that I saw in the newspaper that you were looking for denim, so I came here to try my luck and see if you wanted any."
He shook a large pile of rags out of the urea bag.
He was covered in dust and dirt, but these scraps of cloth were quite clean.
Factory Director Zhang looked at Liu Yan and Wen Chan with expectant eyes, "Our factory produces denim. If you want some, I'll call right now and have the factory send the fabric over."
After hearing what Director Zhang had said, Liu Yan felt a little sympathetic. She gave Wen Chan a look, meaning that regardless of whether the fabric was what they wanted, they should at least give them some money so they could go home with cash.
Wen Chan nodded slightly.
Seeing them exchanging glances, Director Zhang assumed they didn't like the fabric. He got anxious, quickly squatted down, picked up a few pieces of fabric, and showed them to them, saying, "Look at this, this fabric is really the best. It's different from ordinary denim; this material is so soft."
"Wait a minute, you said the fabric is soft?" Liu Yan's eyes suddenly lit up, and she squatted down as well.
Factory Manager Zhang quickly handed her the fabric scraps, saying, "Feel it yourself, what great fabric! This is something our factory figured out on its own. Some foreigners came to us wanting a kind of stretchy, good-feeling denim. When I first heard that, I knew something was wrong. If they were experts, they wouldn't say that. Our factory has produced denim before, but they were all talking about the yarn count, usually 10-count. Denim is actually pure cotton. The higher the yarn count, the finer and softer the fabric. What the foreigners wanted was at least 40-count yarn to achieve that feel. We racked our brains and finally managed to make it, but this batch of goods is now stuck in our hands. When I tried to sell it to other people, they complained that our material was too expensive and said that denim should be stiff, not this soft. They don't want it."
Factory Director Zhang clearly suffered a lot of grievances during this trip to Beijing.
As she spoke, her nose turned red again.
Liu Yan and the others could understand Director Zhang to some extent. There are more and more people in Beijing now, especially after the Spring Festival this year. For some reason, it seems that people from all over the country have suddenly flocked to Beijing, and Beijing has become more and more complicated.
Locals arguing with outsiders, outsiders fighting with outsiders—these kinds of things happen all the time. As for being sarcastic or looked down upon, those are minor issues. There are far more scams and swindles out of people than anything else.
Liu Yan touched the cloth; it was indeed soft and elastic. Looking at the colors, she saw dark blue, light gray, and pure black.
There are even red, orange, and purple ones.
She couldn't help but ask in surprise, "How much did the foreigners order from you?"
Factory Director Zhang sniffed and held up a hand. "Fifty tons."
"Fifty tons of denim?" Liu Yan gasped.
With so much fabric, no wonder Factory Director Zhang had to make a special trip to Beijing to find someone.
This is worth at least 100,000 yuan. If it can't be sold, it might be investigated by higher authorities.
"What's the price range for your fabrics?" Liu Yan asked. "Where's the factory? Can we come over and take a look?"
Factory Director Zhang was overjoyed and looked up: "You really want it?"
“If you haven’t falsified the materials, we’ll take them all.” Liu Yan looked at Wen Chan, who nodded subtly before she spoke.
Factory Director Zhang opened his mouth wide and frantically searched his body. Then he saw the leather bag on the ground, quickly opened it, and found a small notebook. "We have a total of 50 tons of denim, 14 tons are navy blue, 10 tons are... The colors are different, and the prices are different. I'll give you the cheapest price. This is the price for the whole lot."
He wrote down a series of numbers: 120,000.
“This price is too high,” Chen Bozheng said. “Now you don’t need cloth coupons to buy cloth, it’s only 80 cents a foot.”
Factory Manager Zhang blushed and explained, "I really didn't ask for a high price. Our fabric has a high thread count, which requires more spindles, and the process is different from ordinary denim. Otherwise, I wouldn't dare to ask for such a high price."
"Director Zhang, please don't get agitated. How about this, we'll go to your factory with you tomorrow and discuss it further then. What do you think?"
Liu Yan thought for a moment and then said.
Factory Director Zhang nodded without much thought.
Liu Yan entrusted Director Zhang to Fatty, and asked Fatty to take him to the bathhouse for a bath. Since she was serious about doing business with people, she had to pay attention to the details.
Sometimes, if you treat someone well, that favor can come in handy at a crucial moment.
"Are you really going to go to Anhui with him to look at fabrics?" Wen Chan looked at Liu Yan: "We're not familiar with that place, and we don't know anyone there."
Liu Yan said, "I know. I'll call my cousins later and offer to cover all the food and fun so they can come with me. If anything happens, at least there will be more people."
Wen Chan said, "How about I lend you my mobile phone? If anything happens, just call the office. I'll keep watch over there for you. Those female workers aren't pushovers; they've been a bit uneasy these past few days. With you gone, I'll keep things under control, at least they won't run away."
Liu Yan looked at Wen Chan and nodded.
We've helped you this much, so saying anything else would be too polite.
Liu Yan was truly decisive. That very night, she asked someone to buy her train tickets, and the next afternoon, she led a group of cousins and went straight to Anhui with the factory director.
Wen Chan thought she wouldn't be able to call back until tomorrow morning, but the phone rang in the middle of the night.
On the other end of the phone, Liu Yan's voice was excited, "It's done, it's done, we really have fifty tons of denim!"
Wen Chan checked the time; it was already past 3 a.m.
Liu Yan is such a hard worker; she probably went straight to the textile factory as soon as she arrived.
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