Harold Wilson.

After all this time, Du Zhaohui, Tang Yuanyue, and others only knew this much information.

The Du family, having built their wealth through questionable means, clearly hadn’t learned certain refinements. While Hong Kong’s wealthy now favored Filipino maids, they hadn’t yet upgraded to British butlers. Mr. Wilson’s background might not matter, but his butler Allen’s British accent was anything but subtle.

Either way, Du Zhaohui was very displeased.

Tang Yuanyue just drank without speaking.

Xia Xiaolan felt a chill – this wasn’t fate, it was more like a poorly written romance novel plot.

She didn’t even like reading such books, and having it happen to her was even more awkward!

After speaking with Secretary Peng, Xia Xiaolan did leave early with Liu Yong.

Liu Yong was confused: “Xiaolan, you know that foreign investor?”

Xia Xiaolan shook her head, “He’s not here for me, he’s here to invest in Pengcheng. Even Ji Jiangyuan was played by him – he’s a shrewd businessman… we’re not of the same kind.”

Such people had their agenda and wouldn’t become anyone’s pawn.

If he were to cause trouble for Xia Xiaolan, it wouldn’t be because of George and Ji Ya’s manipulation, but his own decision.

But why?

Business people without conflicting interests didn’t typically go around making enemies like an overexcited teddy bear.

Liu Yong thought the same.

Their business was too small; even at such gatherings, they had no say.

Except for the scheming Du Zhaohui who actively proposed cooperation, those who offered their business cards tonight wanted to know Xia Xiaolan. Even if Xia Xiaolan spoke sweetly, she might get some cooperation projects, but Liu Yong’s temperament wouldn’t allow him to trade his niece for benefits, even for small orders!

Having left early, Xia Xiaolan and Liu Yong waited quite a while by the road for a taxi.

Those watching her movements thought silently: such a beautiful woman should have nice things, yet she doesn’t even have a private car. If one wanted to curry favor, perhaps this was an angle to consider.

Xia Xiaolan did have a car.

While the Citroën wasn’t luxurious, she’d bought it with her abilities.

She just hadn’t brought it from Beijing.

She hadn’t reached the level where assistants prepared cars for her everywhere she went. What was wrong with taking taxis? Pengcheng’s taxis cost one yuan per kilometer, considered high-end consumption anywhere in China in ’85. If foreign factories hadn’t raised Pengcheng’s wage standards, how many could afford taxis?

Lying in bed after washing up, Xia Xiaolan pondered Secretary Peng’s words about Harold being interested in the vacant land around Xiangmi Lake Resort, wondering what he planned to do.

Having developed in Pengcheng for years in her previous life, she knew Xiangmi Lake was very lively now, but would decline in the late ’90s as facilities aged. What revitalized Xiangmi Lake was the high-end real estate development on the vacant land.

“Could Harold also be planning real estate development there? It seems too early…”

Real estate needed a target market.

Xia Xiaolan’s reluctance to act wasn’t just due to funding limitations, but also the era’s constraints.

Who would buy houses built now?

Xiangmi Lake was perfect for villas, offering tranquility amid bustling surroundings, with an excellent location. But in ’85, who could afford villas? Those who could wouldn’t buy in Pengcheng, with construction noise everywhere – it didn’t meet wealthy people’s residential requirements.

If not villas, then regular commercial housing?

Like what Liu Tianquan previously built in Pengcheng, mainly targeting Hong Kong buyers? Not necessarily just Hong Kong people – foreign businesspeople in Pengcheng also needed property. In ’85, Pengcheng lacked not just high-end properties, but even mid-range ones.

Foreign businesspeople in Pengcheng mostly stayed in hotels.

If prices were reasonable, they might want to buy property in Pengcheng, easy to sell when ending their China business.

Tossing and turning in bed, Xia Xiaolan’s eyes reddened with envy: “Even without selling, fully furnished apartments for rent would work well for these people!”

But envy was useless – even if she could secure land, she couldn’t finance development.

She had to remind herself not to rush; it was only ’85, no need to enter the market yet.

“Or perhaps, while the wealthy play their game, I should focus on smaller investments. With about 2 million, I could practice.”

Two million might barely secure a small plot.

But with land, would money for construction be lacking?

Current mortgage properties had buyers pay in installments – some at booking, some mid-construction, and final payment at handover. This was the ’80s style “mortgage.”

Chinese people only accepted this type of mortgage; the thought of owing banks money for 10-20 years, with that interest, would keep them awake!

Nobody would believe that income levels would surge, making monthly payments of several hundred that now seemed deadly become easy in 10 years.

Xia Xiaolan didn’t want to be a pioneer, causing pressure on Tang Hongen. But if Harold the American businessman wanted to develop property, she thought she could follow and pick up opportunities.

She was wrong – Harold’s actions weren’t unrelated to her.

Even without George and Ji Ya, his investments in Pengcheng would affect Xia Xiaolan!

But she couldn’t actively seek to join his venture; she should wait until he settled things with Pengcheng’s government before making her move.

Once she changed her perspective on this matter, Xia Xiaolan fell asleep immediately, sleeping very sweetly!

…

While Xia Xiaolan slept soundly.

Many couldn’t sleep well tonight.

First among them were the Xia family members.

After the reception, Du Zhaohui suddenly wanted to question Xia Dajun. For Young Master Du it was a whim, but for Xia Dajun, it was his first ‘summons’ since leaving the young master’s side.

The whole Xia family was delighted.

Only Grandmother Xia muttered: “Hong Kong bosses are so inconsiderate, calling you over in the middle of the night!”

Xiaoyu’s face showed joy:

“Mom, you don’t understand, it’s the boss’s freedom to see Dajun whenever he wants. Besides, suddenly thinking of Dajun late at night shows Master Du values him!”

Xiaoyu had experience.

Fan Zhenchuan used to meet his confidants at night too.

Only the most important confidants were called to his home late at night – those not valued enough, hadn’t they been seen enough during the day?

Grandmother Xia wasn’t convinced.

They all came from the countryside, and Xiaoyu talking like this implied she was inexperienced.

What experience did Xiaoyu have? If she had any family background, she wouldn’t be ambiguously following her son!

Xia Dajun naturally preferred Xiaoyu’s interpretation.

He wanted to return to working for the young master and being respected, and he knew what to do. Unlike now in the company, idle every day, getting paid more than others at salary time, making Xia Dajun extremely pressured – even if others didn’t speak ill, their questioning and disapproving looks were unbearable!