Liu Yong didn’t even know what bidding entailed.

It was simple to explain. When Party A (a certain organization) wanted to develop a project, like building a structure, and couldn’t do it themselves, they needed to pay others to do it. But with different industries being worlds apart, and not knowing who would be most suitable, they needed a bidding company (Party B) to organize the bidding activities based on their project requirements. Party B would write these requirements into a ‘tender document’ according to Party A’s specifications and publish it at an appropriate time. Using building construction as an example, many Party C companies in the industry would see the tender announcement, obtain the documents from Party B, take them back to discuss, and consider whether they could bid – essentially determining if their company could profit from this project.

To make a bid, they would write a ‘bid document.’ There would be multiple Party C companies submitting bids – that’s why it’s called ‘competitive bidding’!

Party B would organize a bid opening ceremony, which Party A’s representatives would attend. Multiple Party C companies would compete, and whoever submitted a bid that met the rules and Party A’s interests would win. Then the successful Party C company would sign a contract with Party A, concluding the entire bidding process.

Now there were two issues at hand:

First, was Liu Yong’s company qualified enough to meet the bidding standards?

Second, were the bidding rules in 1984 as well-established as they would be in later years? Xia Xiaolan suspected there weren’t even proper bidding companies yet. Tang Hongen had asked Wang to notify her to prepare but hadn’t specified his position. Was Tang Hongen Party A who needed the project, or was Party B organizing the bidding? The difference between these two positions was significant!

Of course, incomplete regulations had their advantages. If the rules were as strict as they would become later, her Uncle Liu Yong’s shell company wouldn’t even qualify to bid.

Although Xia Xiaolan wasn’t going to Shenzhen, she still helped Liu Yong prepare the bidding materials thoroughly.

Looking at the stack of color photos Liu Yong brought back, Xia Xiaolan was grateful they already had two successful “works” – not just hard decoration but also soft furnishings, all handled by “Yuanhui.” While the final results of these two renovations might not surpass this era, they at least matched the contemporary renovation standards.

The mainland might not have access to renovation materials as much as Hong Kong’s, but these two cases could show Party A the design capabilities of Yuanhui.

“Don’t worry, it doesn’t matter whether we win the bid or not. Let’s first see the specific situation – consider it a learning experience, and you can also check out Shenzhen’s environment.”

Winning the bid would be ideal, but even if they didn’t succeed, her uncle wouldn’t starve.

Xia Xiaolan told Liu Yong not to feel too much pressure.

Compared to two months ago, Liu Yong had not only learned theoretical knowledge but had also gained practical experience, so he naturally felt less insecure. In fact, ‘Yuanhui’ had three successful cases – Kang Wei and Shao Guangrong’s home renovations, plus the ‘Blue Phoenix’ shop renovation.

After returning to Shangdu, Liu Yong didn’t even rest, diving straight into an ocean of knowledge. Xia Xiaolan taught him a lot about office building renovations.

Office spaces and reception halls require different approaches!

Though Liu Yong’s handwriting wasn’t pretty, he filled several thick notebooks with crooked notes about what he’d learned. Li Fengmei teased that if he had shown such enthusiasm in his early years, he wouldn’t have been too poor to marry.

Liu Yong chuckled, “Then we wouldn’t have met, would we?”

Liu Yong truly didn’t mind that his wife had been married before – it wasn’t Li Fengmei’s fault. If she hadn’t left her previous husband, she wouldn’t have met Liu Yong.

Back then, Liu Yong had been so poor that he’d considered himself lucky to find a wife at all. Li Fengmei had given birth to their son within a year of marriage, and Liu Yong had gradually developed a sense of responsibility through family life. If he hadn’t been ambitious, he’d still be wasting time in the countryside. No matter how capable his niece Xia Xiaolan was, she couldn’t drag along an uncle who was just waiting to die.

Though life was busy now, each day had a purpose, and Liu Yong was full of energy.

In early June, Liu Yong headed to Shenzhen with his thick notebooks, various materials, and bank transfer receipts.

Liu Yong’s family had savings of about 25,000 yuan. Xia Xiaolan added her savings and arranged a 70,000 yuan transfer receipt for Liu Yong. Regardless of which project they won, Liu Yong would need to advance money initially. With Tang Hongen’s influence, they weren’t worried about not receiving the final payment.

…

Xia Xiaolan had Li Dongliang accompany Liu Yong to Shenzhen.

Li Dongliang had been there several times and knew how to “clear customs.” Besides, as Yuanhui’s manager, Liu Yong should have at least one assistant to look properly.

In Shenzhen, Liu Yong called the number Xia Xiaolan had given him and left his guesthouse address. Two hours later, a young man drove over and handed Liu Yong a large envelope.

“These are the tender materials.”

Wang carefully observed Liu Yong, noting his resemblance to Xia Xiaolan around the eyebrows – her uncle.

Liu Yong had a crew cut, wore a white short-sleeved shirt and long dress pants, and carried a briefcase, looking quite like a proper businessman. He wasn’t like those nouveau riche who liked wearing gold necklaces and multiple gold rings. Wang had nothing to say about such upstarts.

Liu Yong made a good impression on Wang, and his facial features similar to Xia Xiaolan’s gave Wang a sense of familiarity. Having shared hardships with Xia Xiaolan, Wang offered some extra advice: “Usually, with your qualifications, you wouldn’t even be able to touch this bid, but the leadership suggested giving more opportunities to private companies. They’ve split a large project into several smaller ones. Look at which ones you can handle and focus on those!”

Don’t be too greedy, thinking you can take on any job just because you have leadership backing.

But also don’t be intimidated – with Tang Hongen’s support, any project Liu Yong could handle wouldn’t be snatched away by others!

How to grasp this balance – even if Liu Yong didn’t understand, Wang believed Xia Xiaolan certainly would. He’d never met anyone better at gauging situations than Xia Xiaolan. Young as she was, she operated like a seasoned veteran. Wang couldn’t compare. He reckoned only Secretary Peng, who worked with the leader, could match Xia Xiaolan.

But how old was Secretary Peng? Over thirty – it had taken many years to acquire such skills.

Liu Yong naturally expressed his thanks profusely and invited Wang to dinner, but Wang waved his car keys: “Sorry, I have work back at the office. Another time.”

Back at the guesthouse, Liu Yong opened the large envelope and finally learned why they were doing this “bidding.”

Shenzhen was planning to build its first five-star international hotel in Shekou, called the “Nanhai Hotel.” Construction had barely begun, with even the main structure not yet complete. It seemed too early to discuss decoration, especially considering Liu Yong’s “Yuanhui” essentially consisted of just himself as the sole manager, oh, and the recently recruited amateur designer Gong Yang, plus the external consultant Xia Xiaolan at most.

With their qualifications, even if Tang Hongen could make the decision, if he handed the “Nanhai Hotel” decoration project to ‘Yuanhui,’ he’d be forced to step down immediately afterward.

Tang Hongen’s invitation for Xia Xiaolan to bid was actually for the municipal government guesthouse renovation, a preliminary step before the Nanhai Hotel project.