Chapter 222: Fishing

Before the winter vacation, Lin Guicheng personally came to pick up the goods and went directly to Yiping Village. In addition to settling the previous accounts, he also paid Lin Yuanmin in one lump sum the funds needed for the two months around the Spring Festival.

According to Lin Guicheng himself, after switching to the Lin family’s chili sauce, the product’s flavor improved significantly. Not only did sales increase substantially, but the product’s price also rose. The revenue from spicy products in these two months was nearly 50% higher than in previous years. With the Spring Festival approaching, past experience suggested that sales would be even higher during this period, so he prepaid double the usual amount.

After operating for this period, the Lin family restaurant had gained many regular customers. Coupled with the chili sauce production, Lin Yuanmin and Dong Huixin were already overwhelmed with work. Even Lin Yong, who had separated from the family, was swamped—managing his own mushroom business while helping with physical labor, especially since his parents were getting older and lacked energy.

Lin Tuo was even busier, running the store, selling diesel, and assisting with chili sauce production. With the New Year approaching, he was also planning to stock up on more goods to capitalize on the holiday season for extra profit.

The elderly couple had thought they could rest for a few days during the New Year, assuming fewer people would dine at the restaurant. However, they were taken aback when Lin Guicheng requested double the amount of chili sauce. Though troubled, they couldn’t refuse—after all, they had signed a contract and couldn’t back out now.

Moreover, Lin Guicheng had already paid a year’s worth of technical fees upfront and even helped them purchase land in the county. They couldn’t bring themselves to negotiate.

Lin Guicheng noticed their dilemma and knew that even if they worked nonstop during the holiday, they wouldn’t be able to meet his demands. He proactively suggested, “Brother, sister-in-law, I know this is difficult for you. Let me propose a solution.

During the New Year period, I’ll send people to help with the labor—physical tasks and low-skill work. They’ll handle those, while you two focus on the technical aspects. You won’t need to worry about management; our employees are professionally trained and adhere to strict work ethics.

Their wages will be covered by me, not you. And since the sudden increase in demand is my doing, I’ll double the technical fees for these two months. The processing fees will still be calculated as before—I won’t deduct them just because my employees are helping. After all, this arrangement benefits my company, and I won’t shortchange my partners.”

Hearing this, Lin Yuanmin and Dong Huixin’s worry turned into unease. How could they accept payment while others did the work, with the technical fees even doubled? They repeatedly said this wouldn’t do. Lin Guicheng laughed, “You two are so honest—hard to believe you raised a clever girl like Lin Fang. If she were in this situation, she wouldn’t hesitate like you.”

“Haha, it’s because she’s been frail since childhood, so we’ve always indulged her. She’s been spoiled by us,” Lin Yuanmin and Dong Huixin replied with proud smiles, their tone full of affection when mentioning their precious daughter.

Seeing them relax, Lin Guicheng returned to the topic: “Our company will be working with you for a long time. Situations like this will arise again. If you’re always this hesitant, it won’t help with development. Your three children are ambitious—you should support them, not hold them back.”

Lin Yuanmin sighed, “We’re old and overthink things. From now on, just discuss matters with our second son, Lin Tuo. We’ll follow his lead.”

After discussing plans for developing new flavors next year, the goods were loaded. Lin Guicheng had the truck detour through the county’s outskirts—he wanted to check on his bookstore. Lin Fang had called, asking him to visit, and he was curious about the “small business” she mentioned.

Before reaching the bookstore, he saw several people pointing at two signs by the entrance. Intrigued, Lin Guicheng walked over and nearly burst out laughing—the contrast between the two signs was stark. He wondered what trick Lin Fang was up to now.

Inside, he found Rouqiu (Meatball) with a pained expression, meticulously writing characters with a brush as if it were his mortal enemy. His calligraphy was, to put it mildly, atrocious. Opposite him, Lin Fang was also practicing calligraphy, surrounded by a mix of adults and children who alternated between watching her write and glancing at Rouqiu’s work.

Despite the obstructed view, Lin Guicheng caught glimpses of Lin Fang’s writing—bold yet elegant, in various styles like regular script, running script, clerical script, and seal script, some familiar and others new to him.

“What are you all doing here?” he asked.

“Uncle Cheng! You must be cold—let me get you some hot tea!”

Seeing Lin Guicheng, Rouqiu acted as if rescued, hastily dropping his brush and darting to the back room, as though escaping a trap. His frantic exit amused everyone, including the onlookers.

Lin Fang set down her brush and addressed the crowd with a smile, “Everyone, this is our boss. As for pricing, I’ll need to discuss it with him first. Only after he approves can we proceed.”

The adults immediately swarmed Lin Guicheng, bombarding him with questions: “Boss, how much will this cost? When does it start? How many days? Will classes continue after the school term begins?”

Overwhelmed, Lin Guicheng replied vaguely, “Let us discuss this first, and we’ll get back to you.”

Once the crowd dispersed, he asked Lin Fang, “What are you up to?”

“Fishing.”

“For what kind of fish?”

“Any kind. You, the big fish, have already taken the bait. Haha!”

“Heh, what scheme have you come up with now?”

After the banter, she got serious: “Uncle Cheng, I have an idea. Since your bookstore sells refurbished ancient books with a traditional cultural vibe, why not also sell calligraphy supplies like brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones? They’d complement each other and add variety.”

“Oh?” Lin Guicheng glanced around. “Isn’t that what you’re already doing?”

Then he raised a doubt: “But how? The Xinhua Bookstore across the street sells those supplies. I’ve checked a few times—hardly anyone buys them.”

Lin Fang explained, “That’s because their selection is limited and poorly maintained. Some items have been sitting there for years, discolored and unappealing. If we offer high-quality, diverse products, they’ll sell.”

“Fine. As I’ve said, as long as you don’t tear down my store, do whatever you want. If you need capital, I can advance you a few months’ salary.”

“Hehe, I already have some funds—not much, but if you agree to my next proposal, the money will grow, and you can share the profits.” She dangled the bait.

“What proposal?” Lin Guicheng sensed a trap.

“I want to teach calligraphy during the winter break.” That was her real goal.

“Go ahead. My stance remains—just don’t wreck the store.”

“Uncle Cheng, I need your help.”

“Help? Your calligraphy is excellent. What more do you need?”

“I want to borrow your reputation. As a kid, no matter how good my writing is, people will doubt me. It’s like with doctors—the older, the more trusted. Calligraphy’s the same.”

Lin Guicheng understood. “Alright, I’ll stay longer. When more people come, I’ll write a few pieces in front of them, then say I taught you—that your skills match mine, even surpass them in some ways. We’ll compare our works. How’s that?”

“Uh… thank you, Uncle Cheng.” Lin Fang was touched. She hadn’t expected a company chairman to go this far for her small venture.

“Perfect! You’re amazing, Uncle Cheng! So… can I take back my chicken-scratch writing now?”

Rouqiu, who had fled earlier under the pretense of fetching tea, seized the moment to plead his case.

Lin Fang vetoed him: “No, it stays a while longer—at least until the class starts. And even then, there’s a condition: you’d better practice hard so your writing improves by then. Otherwise, that sign stays forever.”

Defeated, Rouqiu turned to Lin Guicheng: “Uncle Cheng, save me! Lin Fang’s determined to humiliate me!”

Lin Guicheng chuckled, “Then do as she says. Practice hard, and once your writing improves, the sign comes down. No more embarrassment.”

“Life’s not worth living,” Rouqiu grumbled theatrically, wiping imaginary tears before stomping off to fetch tea. He returned shortly, sulking, “Fine, I won’t hold a grudge against my elders. Here’s your tea, Uncle Cheng.”

His antics made Lin Guicheng and Lin Fang burst into laughter. Even Rouqiu joined in before grudgingly returning to his calligraphy struggle.

Thanks to the “dual performance” by Lin Guicheng and Lin Fang (or a “sandwich performance,” if counting Rouqiu’s role), Lin Fang enrolled three students that very day, earning 240 yuan. Parents even offered higher fees if Lin Guicheng taught personally, despite his assurances that Lin Fang’s skills were on par with his.

Lin Fang was content—having students at all was a win. She wasn’t bothered by skepticism; time would prove her ability.

She offered Lin Guicheng a 30% cut, but he waved it off—such small earnings meant little to him.

Rouqiu had passed all his final exams, even scoring over 70 in two subjects. Overjoyed, he splurged half a month’s allowance on a celebratory chicken and mushroom stew.

By the time the winter break calligraphy class began, Lin Fang had only eight students—but that was enough to delight her. Better than nothing.