Not only Yu Xiao’an was concerned about Zhang Chahua’s condition; upon hearing Yu Xiang’an’s account, everyone immediately pitched in with various suggestions.
Yu Changcun’s emotions were complex. Among his siblings, only he remained after his eldest brother’s passing. If they could locate the other two, as his brother had said, it wouldn’t matter whether they were doing well or not—just knowing their whereabouts would suffice.
If they were thriving, he wouldn’t seek any benefit from them. If they were struggling, they could lend a hand now.
Previously, they had relied on acquaintances to inquire, but those connections were limited to the local area. If the siblings had moved elsewhere, it would have been beyond their reach. Now, Yu Xiang’an proposed placing a newspaper advertisement, which struck him as an excellent idea.
Why hadn’t he thought of it before?
With so many people reading newspapers, someone was bound to notice. Even if the siblings themselves didn’t see it, others might and could alert them. He and Zhang Chahua sat together, trying to recall any distinctive features about their third brother and younger sister.
The younger sister was easier to remember—she had been sent away as a child bride before turning ten and likely had faint memories of home. If she had moved far away, she might have forgotten entirely. As for their third brother, however, he held little hope.
By the time he disappeared, he was already in his teens, old enough to marry. Surely, he would remember where his family was?
Their village’s name had changed to “Red Star Brigade,” but everything else remained the same. If he ever returned, a simple inquiry would lead him back to them and his eldest brother.
What could have happened to him?
A perfectly healthy person vanishing without a trace, impossible to find no matter how hard they searched.
Perhaps because of this lingering concern, Zhang Chahua’s expression grew more animated. The children she had previously neglected now received her full attention and affection, especially Yu Xiangyan’s three kids, whom she had cared for while they attended university. The bond between them was deep.
Yu Xiyi, in particular, was closest to her great-grandmother. With her grandfather gone, she clung to Zhang Chahua, worried about her condition. Knowing she would soon return to the capital with her parents, she followed the elderly woman everywhere during their stay.
Once the funeral concluded, the family began parting ways again.
Yu Xiangyan prepared to leave, urged by Zhang Chahua to return promptly since he was on official business. The journey was long, and delays were unacceptable.
Before heading back to Shanghai, Yu Manwu had a conversation with Yu Xiang’an.
The two hadn’t seen each other in years—Yu Manwu had been studying in Shanghai, returning only during holidays, while Yu Xiang’an had visited just once during his first year. Their schedules never aligned.
Now graduated, Yu Manwu had been assigned to teach at a technical school, with decent benefits. The only trouble was his unresolved relationship with Ruan Chenxi.
“It’s still unclear between us,” Yu Manwu said bitterly. “We’ve graduated, started working, and are no longer young. If she’d fallen for someone else, I’d step aside. But she hasn’t. What is she thinking?”
Yu Xiang’an asked, “What do you think is on her mind?”
Yu Manwu shook his head. “I don’t know. Truly, I don’t. You’ve spent time with her before, so I wanted to ask—what do you think she’s doing?”
From his weary expression, Yu Xiang’an could only sigh. “I don’t know her thoughts, but do you know what you want? Is this how you want things to continue? At this age, most people are settling down. If both parties were willing, things would naturally progress.”
Yu Manwu froze. “Yes… if both were willing.” The problem was, he was willing—but she wasn’t.
He gave a bitter laugh. Many things he had planned to say now seemed pointless.
If Ruan Chenxi had feelings for him, why would she delay for so long?
Her lack of outright rejection likely stemmed from hesitation—she simply didn’t love him. Realizing this, Yu Manwu felt disheartened.
When he got into university, he truly believed they would end up together. Back then, he had confessed, and her response should have told him everything.
“I have nothing more to say. Thank you, Sister Xiao’an. I understand now. I’ll return to Shanghai and put an end to this. It’s been too long, and I’m tired.”
Yu Xiang’an patted his shoulder in comfort. “As long as you’ve figured it out.”
Yu Manwu asked, “When are you returning to the capital?”
Yu Xiang’an replied, “Not yet. I plan to visit the Special Economic Zone first.”
Yu Manwu frowned. “Alone? What about the kids? And your husband?”
Yu Xiang’an explained, “After he finishes his visits, he’ll take the children back to the capital. They all have their own commitments.”
Yu Manwu pressed, “So when you return from the Special Zone, you’ll be traveling alone?”
Yu Xiang’an chuckled. “I’m not a child. You don’t need to worry about me on the train. Besides, I might stay there for a while.” If anything unexpected happened, she had her space for protection.
Yu Manwu persisted, “So you and your husband will be apart for some time?”
Yu Xiang’an nodded. “Yes, but we have a telephone at home. We can call whenever we miss each other.”
Separation was unavoidable, and Yu Xiang’an could only sigh.
The capital was still strict in certain areas, forcing her to come here.
Lin Chuanbai couldn’t leave, and the children had school. She had to make the trip south alone.
Yu Manwu was impressed. “Your leave is that long?”
They didn’t yet know about Yu Xiang’an’s resignation.
Yu Xiang’an clarified, “This trip is official business—a work assignment.”
Well, an assignment for herself.
Yu Manwu returned to Shanghai, while the others stayed behind. Yu Qingshan had taken leave to spend more time with Zhang Chahua.
He was diligent, having accumulated unused vacation days that now came in handy.
Back in the county, Lin Chuanbai kept busy. They checked their old house, which remained in good condition despite being unoccupied. Yu Qingshan had regularly cleaned and maintained it, leaving it almost new.
Lin Chuanbai also visited Lin Jiqing’s family—his uncle’s household. Given the distance, it was rare for him to return, so showing face was necessary.
Xu Haili’s attitude toward them had shifted dramatically, generously offering the best hospitality.
Lin Chuanqiong and Lin Nanxing, now married with jobs, were warm and welcoming. However, housing was tight, especially after having children.
Lin Chuanqiong’s two-story house was spacious enough for his family, but Lin Nanxing’s small dormitory was cramped.
They no longer sought favors from Lin Chuanbai—it was too far. Instead, they eyed the neighboring house, which belonged to Lin Houpu and remained vacant.
When the topic arose, Lin Chuanbai refused to engage. If pressed, he insisted he had no authority—the house belonged to Lin Houpu and would eventually go to his eldest brother, Lin Guangbai.
He couldn’t understand why space was an issue. The two-story house had enough rooms, even if Lin Nanxing moved in. But if he allowed it, over time, the house might unofficially become Lin Nanxing’s. That door couldn’t be opened.
Without Lin Chuanbai’s approval, Xu Haili didn’t dare force the lock and move Lin Nanxing’s family in. She knew her brother-in-law was difficult to deal with, and the consequences of angering him were unpredictable—and undesirable.
Yu Xiang’an also spent a few days with her grandparents in the Qin family before Lin Chuanbai took the twins back to the capital.
Yu Mansheng waited to accompany Yu Xiang’an to the Special Zone.
Yu Qingshan prepared newspaper ads for Bai County, the city, and the province. Yu Mansheng would handle matters in the Special Zone, while Yu Xiang’an and Yu Xiangyan covered the capital. Yu Xiang’an asked Lin Chuanbai to keep an eye on things after returning.
Yu Mansheng could have left earlier but delayed his departure to travel with Yu Xiang’an. Though he knew his cousin was capable, he worried about the train’s unpredictability—stories of thefts and kidnappings were rampant.
He couldn’t assist with her work, but he could ensure her safety during the journey.
The trip to the Special Zone was short, just a few hours. The area still had many low-rise buildings, but they contrasted sharply with the rising modern constructions—stylish, attractive, and expensive.
Numerous hotels dotted the area. Yu Xiang’an chose a decent one near Yu Mansheng’s lodgings.
With so many buildings under construction, it was no wonder Yu Mansheng’s construction team found work easily. Labor was in high demand, and the industry’s low entry barrier meant even unskilled workers could earn decent wages—better than farming back home.
Yu Xiang’an noticed Yu Mansheng’s living conditions were rough. The rented courtyard was crowded, and without women to clean, the smell was overwhelming.
Yu Mansheng scratched his head sheepishly. “We’ll tidy up later. When we’re busy, we just make do.”
Yu Xiang’an sighed. “How do you tolerate this? It’s like a gas attack. Come outside—I need to discuss something with you.”
Yu Mansheng followed without suspicion.
“What’s this about? You’ve been here a few days, looking around. Is this work assignment some kind of research?”
Yu Xiang’an led him to a secluded spot and confessed, “Actually, I’m not here for work.”
Yu Mansheng blinked. “Not for work? Then what about your job?”
Being absent this long would surely upset her superiors.
He frowned. “You…”
Yu Xiang’an nodded. “I resigned.”
Yu Mansheng choked. “Cough—what? You resigned?!”
She waited for him to recover before continuing, “I quit before the New Year. No one knows yet, so keep it quiet.”
Yu Mansheng patted his chest, stunned. “You—you resigned last year? Then what have you been doing?”
Yu Xiang’an said calmly, “Starting a business. The policies favor the Special Zone now, so I came here. The capital isn’t as open yet.”
Yu Mansheng was speechless.
His cousin had guts.
After a pause, he asked, “Sister Xiao’an, what’s your plan?”
“Next, I’ll buy land here. I’ll need your help building on it—I’ll pay you, of course.”
She had brought her savings. If funds ran low, Lin Chuanbai in the capital would continue providing startup capital.
Land in less central areas was still affordable.
The money she could openly access wasn’t enough for factories or equipment, but it sufficed for other investments.
“Don’t tell the family yet—it might shock the elders. Just between us. Later, I’ll write saying I’ve returned. When I call to confirm, back me up. Say I finished my assignment. If no one asks, don’t mention it. If they do, say I’m still on extended business here.”
Yu Mansheng felt exhausted.
If not for this, would she have kept him in the dark too?
He almost wished she had.
“Sister Xiao’an, does Brother-in-law know? Does Brother Yan know?”
“They know. They’re helping me keep it quiet. As long as no one slips up, the family won’t find out.”
Yu Mansheng rubbed his face. So the capital folks were all in on it, hiding the truth during this visit. Had she not spoken up, no one would have guessed.
Yu Mansheng also thought it was better to keep it a secret. He considered himself quite modern, but if he were in Xiao’an’s position, he wasn’t sure he could be so decisive, let alone the older folks in the family. They had an extraordinary attachment to the idea of a “secure job.”
“Let’s keep it under wraps for now. But Xiao’an, you can’t hide it forever.”
Yu Xiang’an: “I know. I’ll wait for the right moment.” This was something that gave her a headache too.
“Living under all those constraints is exhausting. I don’t want to spend my whole life like that.”
“Neither can I. Since I’m still young and don’t have family burdens, I might as well take a shot. If I succeed, I’ll return in glory. If not, I’ll just go back to manual labor—it won’t kill me.”
Yu Xiang’an laughed—this was literal manual labor.
After scouting around, Yu Xiang’an first bought two properties. One was in a central location, about 200-300 square meters, ideal for a restaurant with guaranteed foot traffic. The other was in what was now the suburbs, intended for a factory. Though it was currently on the outskirts, given the rapid development, it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
Yu Mansheng helped her build the restaurant first—a two-story building would suffice.
Watching this, he felt a spark of ambition too. They were currently renting their place. Wouldn’t it be better to build something permanent? As Xiao’an said, development was happening at breakneck speed. Even if he didn’t need it later, he could always sell it without losing money.
He kept this thought to himself and continued observing Xiao’an’s moves.
He watched her rent an office space, register a company, and name it “Wu Wei” (Five Flavors).
Setting up a company in the capital was still a sensitive matter, but in the Special Economic Zone, it was common, and the procedures were fast.
But Yu Mansheng didn’t understand—why set up a company? He didn’t ask aloud but pondered it silently.
He saw Xiao’an deck herself out, hire a local girl as an assistant, and start networking. Most of the office spaces were rented out to various industries, and with some effort, she could connect with people in the same field.
Soon, she linked up with a Hong Kong-based middleman.
This middleman mostly dealt with clients from Hong Kong and Taiwan, so her approach surprised him—but not too much. After all, she just wanted help sourcing some simple, secondhand equipment.
Easy enough.
The equipment Yu Xiang’an needed wasn’t particularly rare. She could use old machinery phased out by soy sauce or canned food factories.
The middleman took a deposit upfront, another payment upon delivery, and the final installment after the deal was done. If things fell through, he wouldn’t refund.
That was just the reality of supply and demand imbalance.
But even secondhand equipment wasn’t cheap. Add factory construction costs, and it was a significant investment—not just small change.
Yu Xiang’an: “Did you think the old equipment would arrive so quickly? It’ll take at least six months.”
“That’s enough time to take things slow.” If necessary, she could sell a few of her self-developed recipes to raise funds.
Yu Manwu: “…”
Soon, he helped her finish the two-story restaurant.
Gu Nanfeng also arrived.
Unmarried and without family ties, he came immediately when offered a monthly salary of 50 yuan plus bonuses.
By the time the restaurant was simply furnished and other preparations were nearly complete, everything was falling into place.
Opening a restaurant required more than just permits—staff, ingredients, and logistics all needed attention.
While she was busy here, Lin Chuanbai was swamped on his end.
He was already busy, but now, with the two shops relying mainly on his broth and marinade recipes, his daily workload was manageable. Still, with their mother away, the kids kept asking, “When is Mom coming back?”
At first, they struggled, but gradually, they stopped pressing. If they missed her, they’d just call.
Once the rented space had a phone line installed, communication became easier.
It wasn’t until the end-of-month accounting that Lin Chuanbai truly grasped how profitable the two shops were—especially the wholesale marinated goods.
They’d already built a reputation.
The volume of ingredients delivered daily to their courtyard was staggering.
Lin Chuanbai reckoned that given a little more time, these two shops alone could recoup the startup capital.
Many came to the Special Economic Zone seeking opportunities, but at this stage, most were men.
Yu Xiang’an posted job notices and soon hired two people.
One was Sun Dongsheng, a male educated youth from another province. He’d been sent to a nearby village during the Down to the Countryside Movement and, after returning to the city with no prospects, borrowed money to try his luck here. He’d graduated from junior high, was literate, good with numbers, and sociable.
The other was Zeng Wang, a local young man familiar with the area, responsible for procurement.
There was also Liu Erjie, a server in her thirties—clean, efficient, and quick.
With Gu Nanfeng, Yu Xiang’an’s assistant, and herself, the team of six was enough to run the operation.
Gu Nanfeng, having worked in the capital, adapted quickly to the new location.
Yu Xiang’an and her assistant handled the kitchen, Zeng Wang managed ingredients, and Sun Dongsheng took charge of takeout.
Since most of their clientele were white-collar workers, Yu Xiang’an opted for a more upscale decor.
But such an ambiance might deter budget-conscious customers.
Would they just ignore the working-class diners?
No. Like Yu Mansheng and his construction crew, they needed meals too. If affordable, tasty food could be delivered to their workplaces during lunch breaks, it’d be their top choice.
Thus, takeout was born.
Back then, grand openings weren’t as flashy. Yu Xiang’an offered a 20% discount and a lottery—any purchase over 10 cents qualified for a draw.
Every draw guaranteed a prize.
The smallest was a free drink; the grand prize was a bicycle!
The bicycle, displayed prominently at the entrance, drew countless stares.
Yu Mansheng couldn’t help but gaze at it longingly, wincing. “You’re really giving this away?”
Yu Xiang’an: “Of course!”
If someone won it, they’d get it. Without such incentives, how else would they attract crowds?
Thanks to the bicycle, opening day was packed.
Yu Xiang’an had to send Zeng Wang to restock—she’d underestimated the allure of a bicycle in those days.
By noon, the bike remained unclaimed, but a customer won a thermos—no small prize either. The elderly woman walked away in disbelief, having spent just 10 cents on a snack for her grandson and leaving with a thermos worth over ten yuan.
Word spread like wildfire.
The bicycle was still there, and the lottery ran for the first three days—who would be the lucky one?
Instantly, the restaurant’s reputation soared.
“Have you heard about the new ‘Wu Wei’ restaurant on West Avenue? Spend 10 cents, get a lottery ticket—grand prize is a brand-new bicycle!”
“What’d you win? I got unlucky—just a plate of spicy chicken feet.”
“I did alright—a towel.”
“Hey, not bad! I got a free scarf!”
“I’ve always had good luck—I’ll check it out too…”
Ten cents? Anyone could afford that.
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