Xia Xiaolan knew Zhou Cheng was wealthy.

But she hadn’t expected him to be this wealthy—seven or eight bankbooks totaling 470,000 yuan.

“How many small courtyards did you have Kang Wei buy?”

Zhou Cheng nodded, “Just one courtyard was somewhat expensive, the others were cheap.”

Only one small courtyard was in an excellent location, which Zhou Cheng wanted to keep as their future marital home—the tenants had already been asked to leave. As for the other houses, whether they were in good locations or poor condition, Zhou Cheng didn’t worry about it. They could just hold onto them. His girlfriend said house prices would rise significantly in the future, but Zhou Cheng’s imagination couldn’t grasp that this “significant rise” meant from tens of thousands to millions.

Rich Zhou spoke so casually, but holding these bankbooks, Xia Xiaolan felt the weight of his trust.

She’d heard of couples sharing ATM cards while dating, but sharing bankbooks—regardless of how common it was—depended on the amount of savings.

470,000 yuan in 1984 was an astronomical figure unimaginable to working-class families.

Zhou Cheng had just handed it over to her. Now that withdrawals could be made with just a password, if Xia Xiaolan took the money and denied it, Zhou Cheng’s 470,000 would be gone. Of course, she wouldn’t do that—Zhou Cheng showing her his entire savings demonstrated his trust in her.

Xia Xiaolan needed to communicate her plans for this money with Zhou Cheng:

“Chen Xiliang is quite capable in business, but he likes to act on his own. I won’t invest all of this money with him.”

It wouldn’t make sense to put all their eggs in one basket—diversifying investments would reduce risk.

Zhou Cheng had been considering this too. “If you want me to trust others, I trust you even more. I preliminarily agree with your assessment of Chen Xiliang, but if you want to do something else, you can freely use the remaining money.”

If he could do business with others, why couldn’t he partner with his girlfriend?

Zhou Cheng hadn’t convinced Xia Xiaolan. While she was willing to help manage his money, she couldn’t mix it with her own. This wasn’t about being distant—it was about truly considering a future with Zhou Cheng… Xia Xiaolan wasn’t unmoved; with Zhou Cheng’s 470,000, she would have 500,000 in hand. With such capital nowadays, in just a few short years, she might surpass her peers.

But could Xia Xiaolan do that?

When the Zhou family eventually asked where her material wealth came from, she wouldn’t have a leg to stand on!

Xia Xiaolan stayed at Zhou Cheng’s workplace until 4 PM before reluctantly saying goodbye. While Zhou Cheng was escorting her downstairs, they met a leader’s wife. This sister had led the group urging Xia Xiaolan to apologize last time. After returning from military training, Zhou Cheng hadn’t apologized to Gao Fei, insisting he wasn’t wrong, but his approach had changed. Previously, he had been too proud to explain; now he felt that speaking up wouldn’t hurt, and most people at work had come to believe him.

After that unpleasant incident, the leader’s wife thought Xia Xiaolan wouldn’t return.

Unexpectedly, the young couple’s relationship seemed fine, showing no signs of strain. Xia Xiaolan appeared to have forgotten the unpleasantness, naturally greeting her as “Sister.”

The leader’s wife couldn’t maintain her aloofness and stopped to chat with Xia Xiaolan.

“When watching the Tiananmen celebration on TV, I saw someone who looked just like you…”

“That must have been me—the camera probably caught me. I was in the university’s parade guard.”

The leader’s wife slapped her forehead, “Oh, my memory! You’re from Huaqing University, aren’t you?”

The leader’s wife felt quite emotional.

The family members living at the work unit surely didn’t have good jobs—otherwise, they wouldn’t be there. But Xia Xiaolan was from Huaqing University, a top student. How could her future possibly align with a bunch of housewives?

It wasn’t that the young comrade disrespected them—they naturally had nothing in common.

The leader’s wife felt complicated emotions, not from jealousy, but from reflection.

Recently, Gao Fei stopped coming to the unit, finally settling into her doctor position and staying busy. Today, Fang Shizhong had also taken leave to visit his wife in the city. With both troublemakers absent, Xia Xiaolan’s visit to Zhou Cheng’s workplace had been peaceful.

She had brought Zhou Cheng some shrimp and chocolate, yet left with bankbooks containing 470,000 yuan in deposits.

On her way back, Xia Xiaolan imagined scenarios of being robbed, though the road regularly had vehicles from Zhou Cheng’s unit passing by and was quite safe—she was just letting her imagination run wild.

Returning to school around 6 PM, she called Chen Xiliang at his guesthouse, inviting him to dinner at Huaqing.

Comrade Chen Xiliang had been waiting for such a summons and arrived quickly!

Business discussions naturally took place at a small restaurant outside.

Chen Xiliang immediately ordered good dishes. Seeing his eagerness, Xia Xiaolan discussed matters with him while waiting for the food.

“How much initial capital do you think is needed to get things running?”

Chen Xiliang had given this deep thought over the past couple of days. To produce their brand, they didn’t necessarily need their factory. Opening a factory meant supporting a large workforce—whether there were orders or not, whether clothes sold well or not, fixed expenses like wages and rent couldn’t be reduced. Chen Xiliang wanted to test the waters first.

After all, with Chenyu Garment Factory backing him, quality could be guaranteed.

“200,000?”

Chen Xiliang tentatively suggested an amount.

“What about positioning? For this clothing brand you want to create, are you going for the high-volume low-price model, or focusing on style and quality in the mid-range market? No need to discuss high-end—it definitely won’t sell now. Also, what about sales channels? Where will we sell our brand’s clothes?”

Sending them to department store counters or wholesaling to others would mean only feeling like they had a brand while still just wholesaling.

Look at real clothing brands—whether high-end or more down-to-earth like Pink Aiyilian—which one didn’t have its specialty stores?

Fashionwear and sportswear were distinct markets.

Which age group would be the main target? What type of consumer group were they aiming for?

Xia Xiaolan’s series of questions left Chen Xiliang speechless.

Was creating their brand this complicated?

Maybe it would be better to continue as a wholesale dealer—it wouldn’t prevent Chen Xiliang from making money.

The stir-fried tenderloin arrived at the table, but Manager Chen had lost his appetite. He thought he had considered many things these past few days, but now Xia Xiaolan raised many questions he hadn’t even thought about, naturally leaving him unable to answer. For a moment, Chen Xiliang seriously doubted whether his idea was correct.

Xia Xiaolan couldn’t be too harsh in her criticism. She picked up some hot tenderloin with her chopsticks before setting them down:

“Think about these questions first. When you’ve figured them out, we can discuss cooperation again. No need to rush.”

If Chen Xiliang couldn’t figure these out, it meant he wasn’t ready for this step.

As the old saying goes, he was trying to run before learning to walk. Although Xia Xiaolan knew Chen Xiliang would achieve success in the future, pushing growth too quickly might result in him losing all of Zhou Cheng’s money. Then this unpaid financial manager would have only herself to offer Zhou Cheng as compensation.