Chapter Forty-Seven: A Warning

"Stop chopping, stop chopping... Oh my... Li Ye, have you ever cooked a meal in your life?"

Inside the small backroom of the No. 2 Grain Store, Li Ye was wielding a thick-backed bone-cleaving knife, furiously hacking away at half a rack of pork ribs with loud *clack-clack-clack* sounds.

The weather outside was already freezing. Jin Peng and the others had bought the ribs from a rural market, and by the time they carried them all the way back, the meat had frozen solid as rock. Even Li Ye, who fancied himself a martial arts brawler, found the chopping rather strenuous.

Perhaps the blade wasn't sharp enough, or perhaps Li Ye's swinging speed wasn't fast enough. After executing a flurry of wild, wind-slashing chops, numerous bits of minced meat and bone shards were sent flying onto the floor by the edge of the knife.

It wasn't just Jiang Xiaoyan who felt the heartache; Hu Man and the others also muttered under their breath, complaining that Li Ye was being far too wasteful.

Yet this really wasn't Li Ye's fault.

Originally, it had been agreed that Jiang Xiaoyan would be in charge of cooking. Furthermore, Jiang Xiaoyan was nimble-handed, and she refused to let anyone else muscle in on chores like chopping ribs.

To protect Jiang Xiaoyan's self-esteem, Li Ye had purposely assigned the others to set up tables and chairs, intending to keep his hands to himself.

However, after watching Jiang Xiaoyan slice up a small basin of radishes while only chopping three or four taels of ribs to go with them, Li Ye could no longer hold his tongue.

Why did Li Ye have Jin Peng and the others buy groceries and start their own private cooking fire?

Was it truly because eating in the canteen wasted time?

Absolute nonsense! Wasn't it purely because he was craving good food?

Ever since transmigrating to this era, Li Ye had harbored a deep aversion to the cooking habits of the people around him.

Canteen meals cost just a few fen per portion, making it hard to find even a trace of oil. Meat dishes cost twelve fen and could barely be counted as having actual meat.

Even when he occasionally went home and his grandmother muttered, "My big grandson is back, we're having good food today," it merely meant a few extra slices of fatty pork in Li Ye's bowl.

And that was in a family like Li Ye's. In this day and age, households without a steady wage earner would measure cooking oil with chopsticks; it was completely common. (The author's father had experienced it firsthand—the grandmother would dip a chopstick into the oil bottle and flick the oil droplets from the stick into the wok before starting to stir-fry.)

So despite Li Ye having three dishes per meal these days, the genetically engraved foodie gene of a great descendant of the Central Plains had been hoisting protest banners in his soul a hundred and eighty times over.

In the past, conditions didn't permit it. But now that conditions allowed for it, why should he continue to suffer grievances?

At the end of 1981, private meat vendors were already selling meat at rural markets. A few days ago, Li Ye had instructed Hao Jian and Jin Peng to stop by the markets to purchase goods on their way back from selling malt sugar in the provincial capital. Chickens, ducks, fish, or pork—it didn't matter, they should buy whatever was available.

Besides, it was winter now, acting as a natural refrigerator where food wouldn't spoil for days. With several markets scattered across villages and towns, as long as you had money, you wouldn't lack food.

Since food wasn't in short supply, why bother counting tiny cubes of meat when tossing them into the wok?

Moreover, in this era, pork ribs were less valuable than lean meat, and lean meat was less valuable than fatty meat, costing only several dozen fen per catty. What was the point of pinching pennies?

Therefore, Li Ye chased Jiang Xiaoyan away, picked up the bone-cleaving knife himself, and didn't stop until he had chopped two or three catties of ribs in one breath.

"From now on, cook meals according to this standard of ingredients. A meal costs a dime! We have to let the boys know what getting your money's worth really means."

Li Ye wasn't going to step down and do the physical cooking himself, but he would direct the process according to his recipe.

"Blanch them in hot water first, then stir-fry them in oil, add water, and let it stew—it's simple..."

"Did you use oil from your own house? With so little oil, the ribs are going to burn! We can't shortchange people, can we?"

"Not bad, not bad. Toss in the star anise and spices, get ready to dish it out."

Li Ye directed Jiang Xiaoyan step-by-step through the cooking, aiming to break her stingy habits at every turn. Once the large wok began to bubble and burble, everyone gathered around the edge of the pot, staring with wide eyes, lips pursed, and swallowing hard.

Damn it, a dime a meal, and you're letting us eat *this*?

Ah, Li Ye, you truly are a great philanthropist.

...

Li Ye had underestimated his classmates' appetites. By the time the giant pot of braised ribs and radishes was finished, there was nothing left except some flavored broth.

Girls like Hu Man, Han Xue, and even Jiang Xiaoyan had been shy and bashful at first.

But once the rich, savory flavor of animal fat bloomed on their tastebuds, even the most demure young ladies could no longer maintain their poise. Just like Jin Peng, Li Dayout, and the others, the girls opened their mouths and wolfed down the food with gusto.

Only Wen Leyu was the exception. She wasn't embarrassed, but her little mouth chewed at a rapid pace like a rabbit eating grass, yet it somehow retained an air of refined elegance.

Li Ye had stated long ago that the royalty fees included a share for her as the proofreader.

She hadn't taken the cash, requesting only to be fed. Ever since, Li Ye had brought a share for her whenever he went to the canteen.

Slow and steady wins the race. By hitching her wagon to Li Ye, she believed she would earn much more in the end.

Li Ye stood up, finished off the last piece of radish, and then went out for a stroll with Hao Jian to digest their meal.

In the crisp, chilly night, two cigarette tips glowed brightly and faded alternately. After a long while, Hao Jian finally broke the silence.

"The sales volume for the past half month has exceeded our estimates once again. Do you think... something might go wrong?"

Li Ye took a puff of his cigarette, tossed the half-finished butt onto the ground, and ground it out with his shoe.

"What kind of trouble do you think will happen?"

Hao Jian stared at the half-cigarette butt crushed by Li Ye, feeling a pang of heartache that lasted for a fraction of a second before he retrieved a "brick wrapped in newspaper" from inside his coat.

It was tightly wrapped in newspaper, looking just like a brick. Inside, naturally, was the cash share that belonged to Li Ye for this period.

Hao Jian handed the money over to Li Ye and said in a deep voice, "The money we're making... is simply too much."

"Pfft—"

Li Ye chuckled, weighed the "brick" in his hand, and asked, "How much is there? Is it enough to be a ten-thousand-yuan household yet?"

Hao Jian nodded and said in a low voice, "Soon. If not this year, definitely next year."

Li Ye smiled again. "Don't you read the newspaper all day long? Tell me, is being a ten-thousand-yuan household a crime?"

A "ten-thousand-yuan household," in an era where the average monthly wage was thirty or forty yuan, was absolute shorthand for "immense wealth." While such a household might not quite equate to achieving a modern billionaire status, it certainly rivaled a multi-millionaire.

Yet the first publicly reported ten-thousand-yuan household had appeared in 1979, and it was already 1981. Even melon-seed vendors had millions in assets by now—what was there to fear?

Therefore, Li Ye believed that by the present year of 1981, the status of a ten-thousand-yuan household no longer crossed any political lines or triggered ideological taboos; it wasn't worth panicking over.

However, Hao Jian stared intently at Li Ye and slowly said, "Being a ten-thousand-yuan household isn't a crime, but what about a hundred-thousand-yuan household? And if a hundred-thousand-yuan household isn't a crime... what about a million-yuan household?"

Li Ye was stunned. Looking at the agitated Hao Jian, he couldn't help but reassess him.

When he first met Hao Jian, Li Ye had held a high opinion of him.

Yet Li Ye truly hadn't expected that in just a few short days, this crafty merchant would possess such daring and ambition.

In 1981, anyone who dared to set their sights on becoming a millionaire was either delusional or an exceptional talent.

As long as the latter didn't capsize, they were bound to become a prominent figure in the future.

Li Ye pulled out a cigarette, wanted to light it, but then placed it back into the pack.

Like an interviewer evaluating a senior executive, he asked Hao Jian, "The malt sugar business doesn't have a very high barrier to entry. Do you really think we'll earn that much?"

Hao Jian replied as if he had been preparing for this all along, "We will. Maybe the malt sugar won't make that much, but the distribution channels will—the very channels you talked about."

Li Ye smiled. "You've finally figured out what a channel is?"

Hao Jian became thoroughly worked up. "I've thought it through these past few days. Those people who distribute goods for us can not only sell malt sugar, they can sell anything! We just need to give them a little bit of support..."

"A few days ago, I ran into some southerners in the provincial capital who were secretly selling clothes at night. They can sell them, and so can we. Only, they sell retail, while we can do wholesale..."

Li Ye looked at Hao Jian, unable to withhold his admiration for this talent who only possessed a junior high school education.

Although his grasp of distribution channels was somewhat vague, his mind was unquestionably flexible, and his commercial instincts were sharp enough.

In the past, a lack of capital had limited his mobility. Now, watching the funds in his hands steadily increase and his horizons gradually broaden, the ambition buried deep in his heart had naturally swelled.

Hao Jian spoke nonstop for a long while before finally pausing.

Li Ye smiled and nodded, approvingly saying, "Well said. But some things shouldn't be rushed either. Until the malt sugar business hits a bottleneck, you should honestly focus on developing your retailers for now."

With that, Li Ye turned around and began walking back. But Hao Jian urgently called out, "Li Ye, our business is getting bigger and bigger. Can you let me... meet your grandfather?"

"Hmm?"

Li Ye slowly turned back around, looking at the anxious Hao Jian without a trace of a smile, his expression cold.

"I helped you secure the rural cooperative processing household registration. Do you still feel that's not enough?"

"No, no... It's just that there are some things I'd like to... report to Bureau Chief Li."

Hao Jian took several steps backward before managing to blurt out his explanation.

He didn't yet understand what an "aura" was, but suddenly, he felt that Li Ye's "kindness and warmth" had vanished, replaced entirely by "indifference and sharpness."

Li Ye was indeed angry.

Hao Jian wasn't looking to make any sort of "report" to his grandfather; he wanted to bind himself completely to the Li family so they would share the risks together.

Just as Hao Jian had said, as long as ten-thousand-yuan or hundred-thousand-yuan households kept a low profile in this day and age, there wasn't much danger.

But a million-yuan household was hard to guarantee, especially since Qingshui County was a relatively closed-off northern small town rather than the open, fertile soil of the south.

Even if the malt sugar business became immensely profitable, Li Ye would never allow Hao Jian—his outer protective shell—to have deep contact with his grandfather, Li Zhongfa.

Li Ye finally lit his cigarette, exhaled a thin wisp of smoke into the winter night, and asked Hao Jian, "As an ordinary cooperative processing household, what could you possibly have to report to my grandfather?"

Hao Jian felt his mouth go dry. Swallowing hard, he said, "The money we're earning is too much, and we'll make even more in the future. I want to hear Bureau Chief Li's opinion."

"Hah—"

*[You probably just want a guarantee!]*

Li Ye smiled, exhaled a puff of smoke, spat a bit of cigarette tar onto the ground, and jerked his chin toward the small backroom of the No. 2 Grain Store.

"Fine, I get it. Go on inside, and send Jin Peng out to me alone."

".........."

Hao Jian's feet seemed nailed to the ground, unable to move a single step.

Moreover, in the freezing depths of winter, sweat was actually beading on his forehead.

*[What is he going to do? Why is he calling Jin Peng out... Is he going to replace me? I knew it, I just knew it...]*

Jin Peng had been running to the provincial capital with Hao Jian all these days. When delivering goods to the petty peddlers who distributed them, Jin Peng didn't say much, but he knew and recognized every single small merchant.

Now, Li Ye was sending Hao Jian inside and having Jin Peng come out—what for?

Hao Jian didn't dare to gamble.

Once he lost the bet, his status as a ten-thousand-yuan household, his hundred-thousand-yuan household... would all vanish into thin air.

These days, watching money pour in like running water that couldn't be stopped, Hao Jian had started to think he was invincible.

Yet now, a single careless sentence from Li Ye had knocked him back down to earth, making him understand what "ending up with nothing" truly meant.

Li Ye watched Hao Jian standing frozen for a long time and asked with a grin, "What's the matter? Is it too nice out here, or are you reluctant to go inside?"

Struggling and twisting internally, Hao Jian finally forced a smile.

"I actually aren't all that scared, but... I have a wife and kids."

Li Ye looked at Hao Jian in silence for a long time before saying, "Are you familiar with the enterprise contracting documents issued by the authorities this year?"

Hao Jian's mind spun rapidly. "I've heard of such a thing, but what does that have to do with us?"

Li Ye replied, "It doesn't have anything to do with us right now, but it might in the future. When that time comes, you can contract a small collective enterprise, and won't all your problems be solved?"

A heavy sweat broke out all over Hao Jian's body, and suddenly, he felt a wave of relief.

*[You little rascal, you had it all planned out long ago—why didn't you say so earlier?]*

Contracting a small collective enterprise would still require the help of the Li family. Only when Hao Jian was certain he wasn't about to be discarded at any moment did he finally feel at ease.

...

Li Ye led Hao Jian back to the backyard of the No. 2 Grain Store, where he found Wen Leyu, Hu Man, and the other girls using leftover bones to feed a dog.

However, the massive yellowish dog didn't even look at the pile of bones; it simply let out low whimpers facing the girls.

Li Ye asked, "What are you girls doing?"

Wen Leyu replied, "This dog is so fierce. We wanted to give it some good food so it won't bite us in the future, but it won't even eat the bones, ugh."

"Damn it—"

Li Ye muttered under his breath and said, "You girls gnawed those bones cleaner than a dog ever could; how is it supposed to eat them? Dogs have dignity, too, you know."

Hao Jian, following right behind Li Ye, almost stumbled and fell flat on his face.

At that moment, he experienced a total awakening, waking up as if from a dream.

The malt sugar business he ran in partnership with Li Ye operated on a 60-40 profit split, and he, Hao Jian, had grown plenty fat off it.

"I should be content. I should be content. Damn it, why wasn't I content? What a complete fool."

Hao Jian was filled with deep regret and an overwhelming sense of relief.