Xia Xiaolan had no intention of building a second Jinshachi on the newly acquired land for 7 million.

Prime locations with excellent feng shui weren’t available every year, and she wasn’t tired of the old approach, but homebuyers would become weary of repetitive advertising. While this would still be residential, its positioning would be different from Jinshachi:

“I want to build housing for basic needs, to build Qihang’s reputation.”

Basic needs housing?

Both Tang Hongen and Zhou Cheng weren’t familiar with this concept.

One was a government official, the other a classified unit officer – neither knew as much about real estate as Xia Xiaolan.

“Basic needs housing means homes that meet people’s fundamental housing requirements… In other words, it can’t sell at Jinshachi’s prices. While we’ll still target Hong Kong buyers, we want mainland citizens to afford it too. With homes, these early prosperous individuals can settle down and put down roots in Pengcheng, right?”

Her words made Tang Hongen laugh.

“Are you thinking on behalf of the government now?”

Xia Xiaolan wasn’t embarrassed at all. “Not exactly – it’s win-win. Qihang needs a reputation, not just for high-end properties. I’ll still make money, but I want to control profits within certain limits, not as much as Jinshachi.”

Her words drew strange looks from Tang Hongen and Zhou Cheng.

Is a money-grubber suddenly changing character?

When Xiaolan said she didn’t want to make as much money and would give buyers a break – Zhou Cheng couldn’t help looking up at the sky. The sun was still there, and no red rain falling, so what was up with his wife?

Had American capitalism elevated her thinking?

“Why are you looking at me like that? I said reduce the profit margin on residential buildings, not stop making money entirely.”

You needed people to discuss anything else.

While profit per unit would decrease, the total number of units would increase. Xia Xiaolan was quite optimistic about her “basic needs housing.” Why couldn’t there be basic needs housing in ’86? Jinshachi’s over 100 units were frantically snapped up, showing huge potential among home buyers.

Some couldn’t get one, others found Jinshachi too expensive.

Tang Hongen only knew that Xia Xiaolan wanted to lower prices for Qihang’s new project:

“Lowering prices is fine. I’d be happy to see individual businesspeople afford your homes, not just Hong Kong buyers. But if you’re lowering prices while maintaining profits by sacrificing quality…”

“Uncle Tang, we won’t sacrifice quality. I can increase the plot ratio.”

For basic needs housing, build taller with less courtyard space – it wasn’t high-end housing like Jinshachi after all. Ground space needed efficient use, with parking underground.

Xia Xiaolan wasn’t worried that no one was buying parking spaces now – they could be rented to those who needed them.

In ’86, anyone who could buy commercial housing, even Xia Xiaolan’s “basic needs” units, was paying much more than work-unit welfare housing. Those who could afford homes weren’t far from affording cars.

She decided to hold the parking spaces for several years before selling.

This idea was too merchantlike – for the sake of her image, Xia Xiaolan held back from telling Tang Hongen and Zhou Cheng.

Having returned after half a year abroad, those who came to receive her were waiting to welcome her back and were close to her. The group dispersed only after dining together, and Xia Xiaolan distributed gifts to everyone.

Those who worked for her couldn’t help but like such a generous boss.

That evening, she went directly to rest at the government officials’ apartments. Tang Hongen’s home was also Xia Xiaolan’s home.

There were three rooms – one for Tang Hongen and Liu Fen, one for Xia Xiaolan, and a study… Zhou Cheng was allowed to sleep on the sofa, with Tang Hongen warning him with a look to behave himself.

Tang Hongen was overthinking – how could Zhou Cheng dare to make any moves under his future father-in-law’s watch?

Xia Xiaolan winked at him before going to her room. Zhou Cheng sat properly on the sofa, determined to be well-behaved before his future father-in-law, though his eyes lingered on his wife’s retreating figure, reluctant to look away.

Tang Hongen coughed once, and Zhou Cheng immediately straightened his gaze.

Tang Hongen didn’t bother exposing him:

“Is it alright to take leave so frequently? I know young couples are clingy, but you’re on a good trajectory now, considered exemplary among young cadres. I don’t want your relationship with Xiaolan to affect your promotion.”

It was fine for Xiaolan’s partner to be clingy.

But Zhou Cheng wasn’t just Xiaolan’s partner – he was also the Zhou family’s son with his responsibilities.

Tang Hongen wasn’t concerned about Zhou Cheng; he worried Zhou Cheng might harm his career prospects and the Zhou family would blame Xiaolan instead of their thoughtless son.

Tang Hongen’s blatant favoritism was clear to Zhou Cheng.

Facing his father-in-law’s “test,” he immediately straightened his back further: “My leave comes from my annual vacation days, it won’t affect my promotion at work. Don’t worry about that. If Xiaolan influences me, it’s only positive… Because of her, I’ve never stopped actively learning. My family is very satisfied with Xiaolan.”

One must listen for the underlying meaning.

Zhou Cheng could understand the subtext, and Tang Hongen was somewhat satisfied.

He feared they’d be unable to communicate – if Zhou Cheng was just a crude unit worker, married life would be long. Once physical attraction faded, if he couldn’t share common ground with Xiaolan or understand her career ambitions, it would be over!

Tang Hongen had suffered from this himself.

Back then, he and Ji Ya married out of mutual affection – wasn’t he proud and happy to marry the Ji family’s pearl?

Only after years of marriage did he realize this pearl was meant to be treasured, not suited for ordinary married life.

Later, when Tang Hongen firmly supported Old Song’s exile to the cowshed, Ji Ya directly asked for divorce… He wasn’t saying Ji Ya was wrong, just that two people with completely different mindsets would make different choices in the same situation.

Zhou Cheng studied his future father-in-law’s expression – was that approval?

He wasn’t just saying nice things to please Tang Hongen; the Zhou family truly did like Xiaolan.

Even his difficult aunt-in-law had been won over by Xiaolan – Zhou Cheng truly admired his wife for that.

“Continuing active learning is good, keep it up. Xiaolan is very popular at Cornell University, professors want her to stay in America for further studies. She’s only returning after one year because she can’t bear to leave her career here and you, her boyfriend…

In short, support her studies and work more, both now and in the future. A girl’s marriage doesn’t mean she should sacrifice everything for her husband without compensation.”

After this lecture to Zhou Cheng, Tang Hongen went to bed.

What could Zhou Cheng say?

How could he not listen carefully to his future father-in-law’s words?

Zhou Cheng had hoped to share some sweet moments with Xiaolan on their way to Shangdu, but the bad news was that Tang Hongen would join them. Zhou Cheng could already sense he’d be watched closely the whole way, with Tang Hongen guarding against him like a thief – this was truly a double standard, Old Tang was clearly going to Shangdu to see his own wife, yet wouldn’t let Zhou Cheng and Xiaolan get too close.

A big “miserable” was written across Zhou Cheng’s forehead.