"Old Xue, you can't take your eyes off him, can you? There are already so many pretty girls in your workplace, you're not enough to look at. Be careful your wife won't be happy if you keep looking like this outside," his companion teased Manager Xue.
"No, I bought the clothes they were wearing from our mall."
"Sure, it would cost several thousand yuan to buy a full set of clothes for this group, which is a year's salary."
"Hmm. What do you think they do? Did you see the tall guy and the shortest woman? They went to buy clothes this afternoon."
“They were filthy, like they’d been pulled out of the mud. None of us sales clerks wanted to sell them clothes.”
"Now that you mention it, I think they're a lot like those people our company organized to go on disaster relief missions, and they came back the same way."
“You’re right,” Manager Xue agreed with his assessment, then asked with a hint of doubt, “What was that woman doing there?”
"They should be boiling water and cooking for them."
"That's pretty impressive."
After finishing his meal and returning home, Manager Xue picked up a newspaper from the coffee table, and the pictures on it caught his eye.
He saw a row of people standing in the floodwaters carrying long logs to plug the breach; he had seen this incredibly moving photo in his office that morning.
But what attracted him this time was a small, thin figure that was only level with the log, while the tall figure next to him and his profile looked familiar.
He looked at it carefully and determined that it was the man who bought clothes that afternoon.
Then he looked at the short figure in disbelief. Could it be that woman?
Suddenly, Manager Xue felt a mix of emotions.
The next morning at the meeting, Manager Xue held up a newspaper and gave Yu Mingfen a severe dressing-down, ordering her to go home and reflect for three days.
Then he took the white dress and found the hotel with the help of a rickshaw driver.
Upon learning that Xia Baozhu and the others had left, Manager Xue felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.
He told his superiors about it and searched for Xia Baozhu and Song Yaoyang in the newspapers.
A week later, a news article titled "A White Dress" searching for flood relief volunteers was published in the country's largest newspaper.
Manager Xue stood in front of the counter with the white dress, holding a photo of the flood relief newspaper in a prominent position.
...
Back in Taicheng, Xia Baozhu threw herself back into her work.
Oh, by the way, she donated all the money she earned as a fashion model.
Money comes quickly, but goes even faster.
When she returned, her regular customers would ask her where she had been for the past month or so.
“I went to another city to study for a while,” Xia Baozhu replied.
"Did you go to learn how to be a model?" someone asked, holding a copy of "Popular Fashion" magazine.
"Yes," Xia Baozhu admitted.
"I think your photos are pretty good. I selected a lot of your pictures. Did you really need to study this for so long?"
"Yes, I will continue to learn in the future."
"If you become the model, what will happen to this store?"
“Being a model is only temporary; the shop will continue to operate.” Xia Baozhu smiled.
"Yes, modeling is a short-lived career, while running a business is a long-term solution."
"If Xia works two jobs, wouldn't she earn even more? She must be a millionaire by now."
After buying their things, people lingered around the counter, chatting with Xia Baozhu.
"Why are you asking about this? Or should I ask you how much you donated recently?" someone asked the person in front.
"I donated two hundred, which is a month's salary," the person in front said proudly, turning his head.
"That's quite a lot. I only donated a hundred. The most people from my workplace donated fifty," someone chimed in, joining in the conversation.
"Boss lady, you earn so much, how much money have you donated?"
"Our store donated 2,650 yuan!" Jia Hongying popped her head out from behind and said loudly and proudly.
"So many! This is truly a conscientious shop. I knew Boss Xia was honest. There's a fried chicken shop near my house, but I'd rather walk two blocks further to buy from here."
"The people in front have already bought their things, so hurry up and move on! Can't you see there's still a line behind you?!"
Newcomers to the queue, seeing no movement in the line for a long time, shouted impatiently.
When the people behind them got to the front of the line, they asked Xia Baozhu a similar question, asking her to write down the answer and put it on the counter.
Because of "Popular Clothing", Xia Baozhu became a celebrity in Taicheng.
According to Jia Hongying, during the time she was away, people came to her every day with magazines asking about her, and others inquired about her and wanted to introduce her to potential partners.
Xia Baozhu smiled and didn't take it seriously, but she didn't expect that on her very first day back, someone would come to her door to introduce her to a potential partner.
It was Aunt Zhang from this street; she came with a picture of a man.
"Xia, you're finally back! I've been waiting for you for so long!" Aunt Zhang shouted as soon as she entered the door.
"What is it, Aunt Zhang?"
"What do you think of this young man?" Aunt Zhang handed a solo photo to Xia Baozhu.
Xia Baozhu glanced at him; he had a square face, single eyelids, and was fairly good-looking. She pretended not to understand and asked, "What's wrong with him?"
“This young man is the same age as you, 25 years old this year. He is not married yet and works in a chemical plant. He asked me to introduce him to you.”
Aunt Zhang stared into Xia Baozhu's eyes, trying to discern whether she was willing to come.
"I'm sorry, Aunt Zhang, I'm not thinking about marriage for the time being." Xia Baozhu returned the photo to Aunt Zhang.
“How can that be? You’re still young, it’s easier to find someone then. In a couple of years, people your age will all be married, and it will be much harder to find a suitable one then,” Aunt Zhang said with a look of disapproval.
"I really don't want to think about it right now. Let's talk about it later," Xia Baozhu still refused.
"I know you can't figure it out yet, so think it over carefully. I've been through this before, so let me tell you, if you meet the right person, just get married quickly and don't overthink it."
After seeing Aunt Zhang off, Sister Song arrived and said the same thing.
Xia Baozhu didn't rest until the store closed.
After the employees finished get off work, Zheng Zhenhao rode his tricycle out to set up his stall.
Xia Baozhu closed the shop door, drank a cup of tea to moisten her throat, and opened a drawer containing a pile of letters.
There were more than a dozen letters from readers, two of which were from Sun Xingyan, and more than a dozen other letters.
She first read Sun Xingyan's letter. As before, he wrote about his experiences abroad and his longing for her.
The second letter described his efforts in organizing disaster relief abroad. He and three partners raised nearly one million yuan through crowdfunding, which, together with his own more than one million yuan, brought the total to two million yuan, which he donated back to China.
In his letter, he also expressed his deep emotions: "For the first time, I truly felt the allure of money."
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