Chapter 106:

The people at Changyao Pharmaceutical Factory were unwilling to agree, but the negotiation team had anticipated this.

Who would willingly give up their current status and start over somewhere else? It wasn’t that they couldn’t, but without better options elsewhere, they naturally didn’t want to leave.

However, the other side wasn’t willing to take them all in either. The decline of Changyao Pharmaceutical Factory was at least half the responsibility of its current management.

If they hadn’t been complacent, lining their own pockets and only caring about personal gain, the factory wouldn’t have reached the point of selling equipment just to survive the New Year so quickly. There were also suspicions about the previous raw material fire—someone had likely been trying to cover up financial discrepancies.

For those who had worked honestly, there were no objections. But for those like this, a small temple couldn’t accommodate such grand Buddhas.

Moreover, these managers weren’t without other options. They could be transferred to other positions, and if opportunities arose, they might even get promotions.

This was going to be a long tug-of-war.

The negotiation team wasn’t in a hurry either. The boss had given them six months. They could also visit other factories to apply some pressure.

Yu Xiang’an had never considered handling the negotiations herself. There were too many details to haggle over, and if she took this on, she wouldn’t have much time or energy left for other matters. It was better to leave it to the professionals.

The negotiation team even leveraged public opinion, releasing updates on their progress.

The management was in the minority. For ordinary workers, the proposed changes wouldn’t have much impact—except for one thing: currently, there was no concept of layoffs, but if the factory became a foreign-funded enterprise, underperforming workers could be dismissed. What would they do then?

The entire Changyao Pharmaceutical Factory was embroiled in debate. Some supported the change, confident that as long as they worked hard and didn’t slack off, they wouldn’t be easily fired. Their wages would increase, and life would become more stable.

Others disagreed. Why should they be fired for minor mistakes or laziness? That wasn’t fair. They’d rather continue muddling along—there had to be other solutions.

Besides, if one foreign investor showed interest, others might follow. If competition arose later, the terms might become more favorable.

Qian San was in favor. The factory was already surviving by selling equipment. If things continued, what else could they sell?

Moreover, the factory was burdened with debt, unpaid wages, and unsold inventory in the warehouse. Having someone willing to take over was a blessing.

If the factory did become foreign-funded, workers would receive a one-time compensation. With that money, even if the factory eventually failed, they’d have a financial cushion. Maybe they could even use it as capital to start small businesses.

From time to time, Yu Xiang’an received updates from the negotiation team.

She wasn’t in a hurry. If this deal fell through, there were other options. But based on her research, Changyao Pharmaceutical Factory was the first among the struggling factories likely to collapse soon. The chances of success were still high.

Lin Chuanbai’s mood fluctuated with the progress.

If they acquired the pharmaceutical factory, his private research institute could finally be established. He had already identified colleagues who might be willing to join him.

Yu Xiang’an curled her hand into a fist, pretending it was a microphone, and held it up to him like an interviewer. “Your research lab will be established soon. You just placed an order—your equipment will arrive within six months. How do you feel?”

Lin Chuanbai grinned. “Good. Very good. I can hardly wait.”

Yu Xiang’an smiled. “It won’t be long now.”

***

*Bang! Bang! Bang!*

The lively sound of firecrackers filled the air—it was a housewarming celebration. Gu Nanfeng’s newly renovated home was ready. As a reward for his years of hard work, he had been allocated a three-bedroom, two-living-room apartment.

His salary was high enough that he could have bought one himself, but this was free. He spared no expense on the renovation, and the result was a comfortable, well-furnished home with excellent ventilation and natural light. His wife and daughter were thrilled with the outcome.

They currently had only one daughter, but Gu Nanfeng had already decorated the spare room, planning for another child.

He had no intention of reserving the room for his father. After his father remarried, Gu Nanfeng felt like he’d lost his dad. His stepmother’s family lived happily together, and he didn’t want to intrude.

Others were also moving into new homes, but Gu Nanfeng’s was the largest—a reflection of his contributions.

Hearing the distant sounds of celebration, factory workers couldn’t help but envy them. They had visited the construction site earlier—even the smallest one-bedroom apartments were enviable.

These homes were truly free. If they performed well in annual evaluations, they too could earn one.

With such an incentive, everyone worked with renewed vigor. Laziness? Think of the house. Cutting corners? Think of the house.

Morale had risen across the board.

This wasn’t limited to local employees. Those transferred elsewhere were equally motivated. Take Sun Dongsheng, for example—he had been in Shanghai for over half a year.

The Wuwei Restaurant now had three branches, and he was the general manager in Shanghai, overseeing operations and profits. Business was good—very good, in fact.

He was determined to excel in Shanghai. He wanted a house too. The opportunity was in his hands—it was up to him to seize it.

Yu Qingshan watched everyone’s performance, and his initial reluctance eased. After all, these were houses—not just any ordinary reward.

***

Lei Ming’s orders had grown significantly. This time, the transaction amounted to millions. Unwilling to take risks, he personally came to confirm the details.

Yu Xiang’an reassured him, “We’ll deliver on time. Make sure your warehouse and personnel are ready.”

Lei Ming nodded. “Everything’s prepared. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I’ve signed contracts. If this falls through, finding another buyer won’t be easy.”

Lei Ming now led a team of former soldiers. He was planning to retire after this—his final deal, hence the caution. “Everyone wants a more stable life. The money’s good now, but the risks are high.”

Yu Xiang’an agreed. Lei Ming’s face bore a new scar, and his demeanor had grown fiercer.

She nodded. “Quit while you’re ahead. You’ve made enough to start a legitimate business. Stability is worth it.”

Lei Ming chuckled. “True. I’m thinking of opening a supermarket. I’ll still need your products, though the orders won’t be as big. You’ll still take smaller ones, right?”

Yu Xiang’an smiled. “Congratulations in advance on your retirement. A peaceful life is priceless. And don’t downplay your future orders—I don’t buy that ‘small’ talk.”

Lei Ming had profited handsomely. Yu Xiang’an didn’t interfere with his resale prices—even if he bought goods from her for ten yuan and sold them for a hundred, it was none of her concern. His shell company regularly purchased clothing, accessories, food, and more, with each order in the hundreds of thousands. This time, the amount had multiplied tenfold, and Yu Xiang’an had mobilized all resources to fulfill it.

If he hadn’t mentioned retiring, she would have advised him to do so soon. The Soviet Union had dissolved in 1992, and the risks in this line of work were too high.

She knew other international traders dealing with the former Soviet Union. Their operations were smaller, and injuries were common. Some who had promised to return for more goods simply vanished without a trace.

Yu Xiang’an preferred to believe they had quit rather than met a grim fate.

Lei Ming’s decision to retire at his peak was rare. She hoped to maintain a long-term business relationship with him.

“I bought some gemstones over there. Want to take a look?”

They never made one-way trips. Fur, gemstones, jewelry, raw stones, carpets—all were lucrative. Yu Xiang’an nodded. “What do you have?”

She occasionally bought high-quality pieces.

Lei Ming produced a blue gemstone.

Yu Xiang’an’s eyes widened. It was exquisite—but she couldn’t afford it. The stone likely cost millions. Processed, it could sell for tens of millions. In a decade or two, its value might reach hundreds of millions.

Regretfully, she said, “I’ll have to pass. Funds are tight. Are you looking to sell soon? If so, I have a friend interested in blue gemstones.”

Acquiring the pharmaceutical factory and establishing the research institute were draining her resources.

Lei Ming grinned, his scar twisting. “Yes, I’d like to sell it soon.”

Yu Xiang’an nodded. “I’ll ask her. By the way, did you not use the scar cream I gave you?”

Lei Ming shrugged. “I’ll use it after I retire.”

For now, his intimidating appearance served him well.

Yu Xiang’an sighed in relief. “At least it wasn’t the cream’s fault.”

Lin Chuanbai had developed it with spiritual spring water, and the test results had been impressive.

Yu Xiang’an contacted Liang Yuan, who arrived with Lu Anran in tow—the latter just to spectate.

Liang Yuan had mentioned wanting a blue gemstone before. Now, staring at the massive stone, she was already envisioning jewelry designs.

She had the money—and the willingness to spend it.

Lu Anran watched as the gemstone went to Liang Yuan and sighed, patting her chest.

She was wealthy too, but spending millions on a gemstone? Her accounts couldn’t handle it.

More effort was needed.

***

Yu Mingfeng and Yu Mingyao were now attending college in Guangzhou. Their grades hadn’t been stellar, but they’d secured spots in a junior college—still an achievement. Yu Xianghai and Ye Qijia were proud.

Though not as prestigious as Yu Mingjie’s university, it was still commendable.

With all three children in Guangzhou, Yu Xianghai and Ye Qijia visited often. Ye Qijia had repeatedly urged Yu Xianghai to retire, but he refused.

Selling clothes was profitable, but he wasn’t sure how long it would last. His stable job was a safety net.

Unable to persuade him, Ye Qijia relented.

She was grateful they’d bought two properties in Guangzhou earlier, registered under their sons’ names. Now, they could visit anytime and stay wherever they pleased.

Their homes were in the same neighborhood as Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an’s, just a short walk away. Visits were frequent.

Yu Mingjie and Meng Yuhong usually stayed in the power plant’s assigned housing for convenience.

Yu Mingfeng and Yu Mingyao lived in dorms during the week but stayed at the family home on weekends.

When they visited, Lin Yihong and Lin Yining loved playing with their cousins.

Now in college, Yu Mingfeng and Yu Mingyao had more free time and broader social circles. Yu Mingfeng often tinkered with computers alongside Lin Yihong, while Yu Mingyao and Lin Yining experimented with makeup.

Yu Mingyao didn’t dare wear makeup outside—she was still learning. The results, as beginners, were… imaginative. Yu Mingfeng and Lin Yihong could barely look.

Their attempts bore little resemblance to the movie stars they emulated.

“Did you apply that with your feet?”

Every time they made such blunt remarks, Yu Mingyao would retaliate.

This time was no different. Yu Mingfeng dodged her punch but continued, “I’m not trying to discourage you, but look at that lipstick—are you planning to eat children? And those eyebrows—one thick, one thin, like Crayon Shin-chan. Thank goodness you don’t wear this outside. You’d scare kids.”

Yu Mingyao kicked his shin. “Shut up!”

She then quickly wiped off her makeup.

Lin Yining, hearing this, studied her own reflection—her cheeks were overly flushed. She sighed.

Makeup was harder than she’d thought.

She’d only wanted a natural blush, but balancing it was impossible.

She’d previously stuck to skincare, occasionally using primer. Actual makeup was new territory.

Yu Mingyao, now makeup-free, asked, “Doesn’t your mom wear makeup? Have you seen how she does it?”

Lin Yining shook her head. “Her skin’s great, so she usually just uses primer, fills in her brows, and adds lipstick for color. That’s it.”

She touched her own brows. “Mine aren’t as nice as hers. I need to shape them.”

Yu Mingyao’s brows were worse—uneven, with one resembling Crayon Shin-chan’s after her attempts to fix them.

Her skin had tanned, so she’d applied foundation too liberally, leaving her pale as a ghost. Adding blush had only made her cheeks resemble a monkey’s rear.

Yu Mingfeng and Lin Yihong were studying computer machine models, which Yu Xianghai didn’t mind. However, when it came to Yu Mingyao and Lin Yining experimenting with makeup, Yu Xianghai disapproved. “You can play around at home all you want, but don’t go outside with that on. Why turn perfectly good faces into such a mess? Especially you, Yining—you’re still young. You can learn this when you’re in college; it’s not too late then.”

Lin Yining stuck out her tongue. “Uncle, I’m just practicing at home. I don’t usually wear makeup, and school doesn’t allow it anyway.”

Yu Mingyao shrugged. “Dad, you’re so old-fashioned. Makeup makes people look beautiful. Everyone has the desire to look good—what’s wrong with wanting to enhance your appearance?”

Lin Yining added seriously, “Some professions require makeup. If you don’t learn now, you’ll have to rush later. Look at hotel front desk staff—they all wear makeup. Salespeople too—it makes them look more professional and polished.”

Yu Xianghai thought for a moment and realized she had a point. He waved his hand dismissively. “Fine, practice at home then. Just don’t go out looking like you just painted your face like a ghost, especially at night—you’ll scare people.”

Yu Mingyao smirked—this was her biological father, always quick with the cutting remarks.

Later, when the topic came up again, Yu Xiang’an couldn’t help but laugh. Yu Mingyao gave her aunt a reproachful look. “Auntie, why are you laughing too? Teach me instead! There’s a girl in my dorm who knows how to do makeup, but we don’t get along. She looks down on me for not knowing. I want to learn too.”

Yu Xiang’an coughed twice, suppressing her laughter, though her smile remained. “Alright, since you’re in college now, it’s a good time to learn. Wait a moment.”

She went into her room and brought out two sets of unused makeup. “These are backups I’ve kept. You don’t need anything too complicated—a simple look is just fine.”

“Come here, your eyebrows have grown out a bit. Let me adjust them so they look neater. Yours are too light—don’t apply too much brow powder, just a light brush will do.”

“Did you remove your makeup properly last time? Not cleansing properly damages your skin.”

“Don’t forget to use face masks. Skip the whitening or anti-aging ones—just stick to hydration. Use one every few days.”

After shaping her brows, Yu Xiang’an touched her face. “Since you’ve already done skincare, let’s start with primer.”

Lin Yining watched from the side, as did Ye Qijia.

A light makeup routine didn’t take long—primer, concealer, a touch of eyeliner to accentuate the eyes, a light sweep of blush, setting powder, and a natural lipstick shade. If she was a six before, now she was an eight.

Seeing her daughter’s transformation, Ye Qijia touched her own face. “Can you do mine too? I want to see how I’d look with makeup.”

Yu Xiang’an nodded. “Sure. First, go wash your face.”

Yu Xianghai glanced at Ye Qijia’s enthusiasm but didn’t dare say anything.

Yu Xiang’an gave Ye Qijia a full makeup routine—brows, primer, foundation, concealer, eyeliner, eyeshadow, highlighter, blush, setting spray… By the time she finished, Yu Xianghai gasped in disbelief. “Is this some kind of magic?!”

She looked ten years younger—far more beautiful than before! The fine lines, acne scars, and post-pregnancy spots were all concealed. With deepened eyeliner and rosy lips, Yu Xianghai couldn’t believe his eyes, staring in amazement.

The difference on his daughter was noticeable but not drastic, but on Ye Qijia, the change was striking—unmistakable!

Ye Qijia stared at her reflection, hardly recognizing herself. Unlike the professional makeup at photo studios, which made her feel like a different person, this was her—just enhanced. If she practiced, she could do it herself.

Lin Chuanbai watched silently, amused. This was nothing—in the future, there’d be the so-called “Four Great Asian Sorceries” of makeup, where people could completely transform genders with cosmetics.

Yu Mingfeng rubbed his eyes. Was this really his mother, not her younger sister?!

Yu Mingyao laughed at her father’s reaction. “Dad, doesn’t Mom look beautiful?”

Yu Xianghai coughed awkwardly. “What nonsense are you spouting?”

He couldn’t bring himself to outright praise her, but he nodded vaguely. “Yeah… it’s amazing.”

An indirect admission.

Ye Qijia blushed, suddenly self-conscious. “At my age, won’t people laugh if I go out like this?”

Yu Xiang’an reassured her. “Sis, we’re the same generation. Plenty of women my age wear makeup. Walk down the street—you’ll see it’s not just for girls in their teens or twenties. You haven’t even seen men wearing makeup yet.”

Ye Qijia gasped. “Men wear makeup too?”

Yu Xiang’an nodded. “Yes. Once you get used to it, pair it with the right clothes, and you’ll look radiant. Take one of these sets home—I’ve had them stored for too long; they’ll expire soon.”

Lin Yining couldn’t hold back anymore. “Mom, what about me? I want to try too! Makeup makes you look so pretty.”

Yu Xiang’an turned to her. “Alright, but at your age, just some primer and sunscreen will do. You’re already naturally beautiful.”

She gave Lin Yining a light makeup application.

Ye Qijia couldn’t put the mirror down, suddenly understanding why Yu Xiang’an’s skincare and cosmetics sold so well. She had received gift sets before but only used the lipstick. Now she regretted not trying sooner—if she had known how transformative it could be, she would’ve practiced earlier.

Halfway through watching, she realized she still didn’t know how to do it herself, so she focused on Yu Xiang’an’s demonstration with Lin Yining.

This was just a snapshot of a larger trend—more and more women were embracing makeup alongside vibrant fashion to express themselves.

Too embarrassed to keep staring at Ye Qijia, Yu Xianghai turned to Lin Chuanbai. “You’re the one behind all this, right?” The realization struck him, and he looked at Lin Chuanbai with newfound admiration.

Lin Chuanbai confirmed without hesitation. “Yes, I researched it. Since Xiao’an needed it, I put in the effort to develop these products.”

Yu Xianghai: “……”

Feeling Ye Qijia’s exasperated gaze, he rubbed his nose awkwardly.

His brother-in-law was truly impressive. While it was great that he treated his sister so well, the downside was that he set an impossibly high standard, making Yu Xianghai look bad in comparison.

Yu Xiang’an smiled at Lin Chuanbai, their eyes meeting. Lin Yihong and Lin Yining tactfully looked away.

Yu Mingfeng and Yu Mingyao: “……”

They wondered if they’d ever find partners with such a strong bond.

Yu Xianghai asked, “Aren’t you busy with pharmaceutical research? How do you have time for this?” Where did he find the hours?

Lin Chuanbai replied simply, “Time is what you make of it.”

Under Ye Qijia’s increasingly intense gaze, Yu Xianghai could only laugh dryly.

That night, the couple lay in bed, lights off—seemingly asleep, but in reality, they had entered the farm.

Lin Chuanbai washed a bunch of grapes before heading to the workshop. He was contemplating what to produce once the pharmaceutical factory was secured.

Yu Xiang’an ate a few grapes, watching the fish swim freely in the stream. She couldn’t resist catching one to grill—a late-night snack.

She prepared a portion for Lin Chuanbai, though he often lost track of time when absorbed in work.

Yu Xiang’an didn’t idle either. She headed to the pasture to harvest livestock.

Though most of the farm’s yield was for personal use, maintaining it was necessary for future upgrades.

And she was eager to see what the next level would bring.