Chapter 41: Embarking on the Fashion Industry

“How much is the distributor price?” Jiang Butong asked.

“What do you think it’s worth?” Zhou Jianliang replied.

“Thirty?” Wang Yun picked up the tape recorder and inquired.

“If you take on the distributorship for our factory’s tape recorders, we could offer you a distributor price of around twenty-five yuan, with the market price controlled at about thirty-five,” Zhou Jianliang said.

Wang Yun glanced at Jiang Butong, as if seeking his opinion.

“Could you keep it under twenty? Thirty-five isn’t tempting enough right now.” Jiang Butong understood that as these small, cassette-inserting tape recorders became more widespread, the price would likely drop to around a dozen yuan within a few years, and tapes themselves would fall to just two or three yuan.

Zhou Jianliang fell silent. Twenty yuan was really too low, and his boss wouldn’t be eager to make the deal, thinking the future market wouldn’t favor this kind of tape recorder.

“I’ll need to discuss this with my boss back at the factory,” Zhou Jianliang said. He couldn’t disclose the production cost on the spot—after all, it was a core secret, and without the director’s approval, he dared not quote freely.

After that, Jiang Butong offered suggestions for improvements, drawing on his knowledge of future tape recorders: color design, more rounded shapes for comfortable grip, and more ergonomic buttons.

Zhou Jianliang nodded repeatedly, his admiration for Jiang Butong growing.

“Brother, are you interested in joining our factory as a product manager?” Zhou Jianliang asked, testing the waters.

Wang Yun, hearing Zhou Jianliang trying to poach Jiang Butong, couldn’t help but smile.

“I’ll pass on being a product manager. I’m just offering advice from a consumer’s perspective,” Jiang Butong replied.

Soon after, Zhou Jianliang made his farewells, promising to return in a few days after discussing the proposal with the factory director.

Once Zhou Jianliang had left, Wang Yun turned to Jiang Butong.

“Do you really think there’s a market for these small tape recorders?”

“How are those bigger tape recorders selling these days?” Jiang Butong asked in return.

Wang Yun thought for a moment. “The large ones are selling decently. Most people who buy tapes will get a recorder too—partly to let customers listen, partly for sales—but the numbers are still pretty small.”

“You have to realize, the large ones are expensive and inconvenient to carry, so their function is too limited.”

Wang Yun found this reasonable and decided to trust Jiang Butong’s judgment; he always seemed to have the bigger picture in mind.

“Go close that four-thousand-yuan order as soon as you can. Tell them we’re planning to place a ten-thousand-yuan order next. If the price doesn’t come down, we’ll find another factory to handle it,” Jiang Butong instructed.

Wang Yun understood: if the customer tried to cut her price, she’d have to negotiate with the factory in turn.

Jiang Butong stayed a little while longer, and seeing it was getting late, decided to check how Chen Pan’er’s tapes were selling.

When he arrived, Chen Pan’er was just getting ready to pack up.

“Did you sell out all your tapes?” Jiang Butong asked.

“Yes! I got rid of the last ones by doing a buy-two-get-one-free deal,” Chen Pan’er replied, beaming at him.

The money from these two rounds of tape sales was enough for Chen Pan’er to pay her rent for the next half-year.

“How much did you make today?” Jiang Butong asked.

“Nine yuan a tape this time. Altogether, I made over eight hundred yuan, and with that tape recorder you gave me, it’s over nine hundred,” Chen Pan’er recounted with pride.

Jiang Butong noticed the smile on her face and the empty stall—she’d even managed to sell the pricey tape recorder. What a genius, he thought. Even with his past-life experience to draw on, he was impressed she could outdo him in salesmanship.

“With the money from these two days, you’ve covered the rent, haven’t you?” Jiang Butong teased, pinching her nose.

“Let’s just say you’ve prepaid my rent for the next half-year, so I’ll let you off the hook,” Chen Pan’er replied, playfully feigning grievance even as she enjoyed her good fortune.

“How much is your rent, anyway? Not even a hundred a month—and I’m just sleeping on the floor. When will you let me use the bed?” Jiang Butong said with mock seriousness.

“Keep dreaming,” Chen Pan’er shot him a glance, so innocent and pure, just like this warm summer.

With everything sold, Chen Pan’er had nothing left but a single backpack.

“Come on, I’ll treat you to a feast!” she said, feeling flush with cash and brimming with confidence.

“No need for a feast. Let me take you somewhere,” Jiang Butong replied, taking her hand and leading her toward the parking lot.

By now, Jiang Yuan’s crew recognized Jiang Butong. They all greeted them—calling him “Brother Tong” and her “Sister-in-law.” Jiang Butong, thick-skinned, joked right back; Chen Pan’er, shy, kept her head down, blushing, but with a subtle smile on her lips.

“Where’s Brother Yuan?” Jiang Butong noticed Jiang Yuan wasn’t there.

“He went to the video hall. I hear that’s going to be one of our businesses from now on,” one of the boys replied.

“Alright, got it. You guys carry on.”

Jiang Butong understood that Jiang Yuan was in the process of taking over Black Dog’s operations. It had cost Black Dog dearly, but at least he got off relatively lightly; anyone else in his shoes would have come to a far worse end.

Starting the van, Jiang Butong drove off with Chen Pan’er.

“Where are you taking me?” Chen Pan’er asked from the passenger seat, curiosity written all over her face.

“You’ll see when we get there,” Jiang Butong replied with a mysterious smile.

The van sped along the road. It was only 1994, and the streets were still rough and uneven. There were few cars—the main traffic was buses and bicycles.

After half an hour, the van stopped on Xuefu Road.

Chen Pan’er looked around at the familiar surroundings, puzzled.

This was University Town, home to two universities: the University of Science and Technology and the Medical University. Nearby were the sports stadium and the library—a prime location with plenty of foot traffic.

Best of all, it was close to where Chen Pan’er rented her room—only a twenty-minute walk away.

Jiang Butong got out and opened the door for her.

“Miss Chen, your carriage awaits,” he said, performing a gallant bow.

Chen Pan’er burst out laughing, feigning haughtiness as she extended her delicate hand for him to hold.

At a corner storefront, they paused. The place was under renovation, painted in a light green that felt fresh and tranquil. Workers bustled about inside, and judging by the décor and layout, this was clearly a clothing store.

“What is this…” Chen Pan’er looked at Jiang Butong.

“From now on, this will be the Metebon Clothing Store, and you’ll be the boss,” Jiang Butong said, handing her a set of keys from his pocket.

Chen Pan’er was stunned. She stared at him, speechless. For all her sharp mind, right now she felt dizzy, question marks swirling in her head.

“Surprised?” Jiang Butong pressed the keys into her hand.

“Why?” she asked, looking at him intently.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Running a street stall isn’t a long-term plan, so I quietly rented a shop. I’m the owner, but since I’m busy with other things, I want to hire you as my store manager,” Jiang Butong finally explained.

“You’re the owner, and I’m the manager?” Chen Pan’er began to understand.

“Yes. I’ll take care of stocking the store; you’ll handle daily operations and the cash register. What do you think?” Jiang Butong said.

Chen Pan’er tilted her head, thinking. Being a store manager wasn’t bad—at least she wouldn’t have to brave the elements selling on the street. Plus, the shop was conveniently close to her school and home.

“How much are you paying me? If it’s too low, I’m not interested,” Chen Pan’er teased.

“There’s no salary,” Jiang Butong said, shaking his head.

“No salary? Free labor?” Chen Pan’er’s eyes widened. She thought to herself: Even the stingiest boss isn’t this ruthless.

“But you get forty percent of the shares,” Jiang Butong said with a smile.

“Forty percent? You’re giving that to me for free?” Chen Pan’er gasped, covering her mouth in shock.

“Yes, forty percent, a gift of friendship. The lease is for a year. If we make it work within a year, I’ll rent the two shops next door as well. If we fail, then…”

“Then what?” Chen Pan’er pressed, worried she might ruin things with her lack of experience.

“Then we’ll try something else,” Jiang Butong replied with a laugh.