Chapter 60: Boss Zhu, Strictly Managed by His Wife (End of the Third Update—Please Add to Favorites and Recommend)

Last night, he had been too tired to think. Today, seeing how quickly the portable music players had sold, Wang Qiang immediately realized that electronics were the real money-makers. If you wanted to earn big, you had to target the youth; this wasn’t just making money—it was almost like robbing people blind.

Even later on, electronics remained in high demand; the only difference was the influx of brands, the leveling of information, and increased choices, which made it all seem ordinary. But at this point in time, things were different. Electronic products were scarce, information between the south and here was not equal, and just transporting them over yielded several times the profit.

He understood that it wasn’t just about the portable music players. If he could get his hands on game consoles—like the Nintendo NES, the Game Boy, or the Super Famicom—even if the prices were high, there would still be buyers. Even tapes and game cartridges would probably sell better than jeans.

Thinking of this, Wang Qiang could no longer contain his excitement. He jumped up and tossed the remaining jeans into a woven sack.

The elderly man beside him was startled. “Wang, what are you doing? Not setting up your stall anymore?”

A stall? What stall? When mountains of gold and silver are right before your eyes, why cling to dead wood like it’s a treasure? If he kept selling jeans, he’d truly be a fool. Still, he said aloud, “I just remembered I have something urgent to take care of.”

The old man was kind and said with concern, “If you have something to do, you should go.”

“Alright.” Wang Qiang finished packing and grabbed his things. “See you, Uncle.”

The old man waved. “See you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, you won’t see me—if all goes well, I’ll be on the train by then.

As Wang Qiang walked, he mulled over what to do with the hundred or so pairs of jeans he had left. After all, he had paid good money for them. He couldn’t just throw them away, could he? But clearly, selling jeans from a stall wouldn’t be a quick process. It would take at least two days to clear them out, and in that time, he could have sold dozens more portable music players. The difference in speed made it obvious: he couldn’t afford to waste time selling jeans.

Still, Wang Qiang hadn’t come up with a better plan. The only thing he was certain of was that, even if the jeans didn’t sell, he had to hurry to Shenzhen, restock on electronics, and return. That was the true path to wealth.

…

Friendship Guesthouse.

He had barely stepped inside when the landlady looked up and greeted him, “Back so early?”

It was hot, and Wang Qiang had been lugging around a heavy load. He was drenched in sweat, panting as he dropped onto a chair. “Yeah, I’ve got something urgent.”

Boss Zhu came out, yawning, and asked with concern, “What happened? Did someone give you trouble? Just say the word and your old Zhu here will handle it. I have some sway around here—I’ll make sure you get justice.”

After Wang Qiang left that morning, the couple had discussed his idea and decided to try it out. They mentioned it to their tenants, and to their surprise, many booked lunch. Following Wang Qiang’s advice, they priced it just a little higher than what was sold outside, and by midday, they’d already made forty or fifty yuan. They were delighted.

So now, hearing that their lucky star was troubled, Boss Zhu was quick to offer his help.

“No, no,” Wang Qiang waved his hand.

The landlady took a bottle of Pepsi from under the counter. “You look exhausted. Here, have a drink.”

He really was thirsty, so he didn’t stand on ceremony. He unscrewed the cap, tilted his head back, and drank over half the bottle in one go, then let out a belch as the gas escaped his mouth.

Boss Zhu leaned on the counter and asked, “So what’s the matter? Tell us, maybe we can help you think of something.”

Since he couldn’t come up with a solution, Wang Qiang explained, “I need to go out of town for a bit, but I still have over a hundred pairs of jeans that I haven’t sold. I’m not sure what to do.”

“A hundred pairs of jeans?” The landlady repeated, then said, “Oh my, that’s quite an investment. You really need to think this through.”

Wang Qiang forced a smile. “Exactly. I just don’t know what else to do.”

Boss Zhu propped his chin on his hand, frowning in thought.

The landlady kept chatting with Wang Qiang, but her suggestions were all off the mark—none of them useful.

“I’ve got it,” Boss Zhu suddenly exclaimed.

Wang Qiang looked up eagerly. “What is it?”

Boss Zhu smiled. “The jeans haven’t been opened, right?”

Wang Qiang pulled a pristine pair out of the sack. “Here, brand new.”

Boss Zhu nodded. “Since they’re new, why not sell them at a discount to a clothing store?”

Wang Qiang had considered this, but it wasn’t that simple. Clothing stores usually had their own supply chains. If you suddenly showed up offering to sell them jeans, would they agree? Frankly, he didn’t care about making a profit anymore; he just wanted to recoup his costs.

“What nonsense,” the landlady scoffed. “Why would a store buy Wang’s jeans? You think it’s your store? Even if it were yours, would you buy a hundred pairs from some random guy?”

She had voiced the very doubts in Wang Qiang’s mind.

But Boss Zhu wasn’t convinced. “Why not? If you price them lower than their wholesale cost, why wouldn’t they buy? Besides, I may not run a clothing store, but I have friends who do. I can take Wang to ask them. Unlike you, I actually have connections.”

The landlady glared. “Are you calling me talkative?”

Boss Zhu lost a bit of nerve but, not wanting to lose face in front of Wang Qiang, braced himself and said, “Watch your mouth. Three days without a beating and you’re climbing onto the roof, huh?” He winked at the landlady, hoping she’d let it slide in front of company.

But she wasn’t having it. She slammed the counter. “Zhu Rongxing, say that again!”

Boss Zhu’s neck shrank, and he dared not speak further.

Wang Qiang couldn’t help but break into a sweat. What a henpecked husband. He didn’t want to be the reason for their quarrel and quickly tried to smooth things over. “Sister, Zhu is just trying to help. Let’s just drop it.”

“Fine, I’ll let it go for your sake, Wang. Otherwise I’d deal with him right now,” the landlady said forcefully.

Boss Zhu gave Wang Qiang a sheepish smile and ignored his wife. “Here’s what we’ll do, Wang: you take a few sample pairs and I’ll go with you. Let’s see if any of my friends are interested.”

“Thank you, Zhu,” Wang Qiang replied, feeling a bit emotional. That morning, he had helped them, and now Boss Zhu was helping him. The old saying was right: kindness begets kindness.

He picked a few samples and left with Boss Zhu.

…

Outside.

Boss Zhu got on his motorcycle and patted the seat. “Hop on.”

To be honest, Wang Qiang was a little nervous about riding a motorcycle. There had been too many news stories about accidents involving motorcycles. But he was in a hurry to get rid of the jeans, so he steeled himself and climbed aboard.

Boss Zhu stepped on the clutch, and the Chongqing 80 coughed out black smoke as it started up.

He drove steadily, slowly moving forward.

Wang Qiang finally relaxed. He had been worried Boss Zhu was one of those reckless drivers.

“Did you see that earlier? That wife of mine needs to be put in her place,” Boss Zhu grumbled as he drove.

Wang Qiang made a noncommittal sound.

Boss Zhu boasted, “I let her off because you were there. Otherwise, I’d have smacked some sense into her.”

Wang Qiang said awkwardly, “Hitting women isn’t good, though, is it?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Boss Zhu continued, “If a woman doesn’t behave, she needs to be disciplined. Don’t be fooled by how fierce she was just now—wait until we’re alone, I’ll have her crying and begging for mercy.”

Wang Qiang could only laugh to himself. Sure, keep boasting—when she slammed the counter just now, you nearly wet yourself.

Still, he wouldn’t expose him. “Of course, Zhu. You’re the head of the household, after all.”

Boss Zhu swelled with pride. “You’re sharp, Wang. Hold on tight, here we go!”

The motorcycle suddenly sped up.

Wang Qiang was already eager to meet Boss Zhu’s friends, hoping he could sell the jeans and recoup his investment.