Xia Xiaolan didn’t believe she had the right to choose Chen Xiliang’s destiny.
Though Chen Xiliang wasn’t exactly her friend, he was her business partner. They had known each other for over a year, and he wasn’t just the cold “Boss Chen” from legal news programs. Xia Xiaolan didn’t have the heart to do anything and watch him slide toward a tragic future.
But preventing Chen Xiliang’s divorce and forcing him to stay with his current wife?
Just thinking about it made Xia Xiaolan’s scalp tingle.
If she were in Chen Xiliang’s position, full of ambition and ready to build a career, while family members not only failed to understand and support her but hindered her progress – Xia Xiaolan knew she couldn’t tolerate it.
“Which do you think is more important – freedom or life?”
Xia Xiaolan’s sudden question caught Chen Xiliang off guard.
Weren’t they just discussing his family troubles? Why had it suddenly become so serious, involving freedom and life?
As Chen Xiliang was carefully considering his response, Xia Xiaolan waved it off: “Never mind, I was just joking. Handle your family matters as you see fit, as long as it doesn’t affect our partnership. You’ve found an office space in Yangcheng, right? Install a phone quickly, so next time I won’t need to call your home.”
Clean-cut divorces like her mother Liu Fen and Xia Dajun’s were rare. With a child involved, Chen Xiliang’s divorce wouldn’t be easy. Perhaps after family intervention, Chen Xiliang might change his mind.
Xia Xiaolan had gotten caught up in negative emotions earlier. Even if Chen Xiliang divorced, it would still be more than a decade before his future wife had him kidnapped and killed. Xia Xiaolan would have many opportunities to save poor Boss Chen – there was no use worrying now.
Problems should be solved as they arise. If Chen Xiliang’s wife was being difficult, Xia Xiaolan would simply avoid dealing with her.
As long as Chen Xiliang maintained his capabilities and their cooperation wasn’t affected, that was enough.
Chen Xiliang also breathed a sigh of relief, “I’ve found a place, just needs some wall painting before we can move in.”
Decoration wasn’t important – building the “Luna” brand would require significant investment. The office space could be basic; better to spend money on store decoration to boost brand recognition immediately.
For store decoration, it would go to ‘Yuan Hui’, both professionally and personally – that’s how Chen Xiliang would handle it.
Xia Xiaolan told Chen Xiliang to go directly to Manager Wu.
Around noon, Chen Xiliang returned to the school, “It’s settled, good location, reasonable price.”
Rent was a necessary investment.
Chen Xiliang primarily considered the port location; the building’s condition didn’t matter since it would need renovation anyway.
Having built his fortune by wholesaling clothing, making just one or two yuan per piece, he’d negotiated a yearly rent of only 1,800 yuan – even cheaper than what Xia Xiaolan paid for her clothing store.
Chen Xiliang signed a ten-year lease outright.
Seeing his smugness, Xia Xiaolan asked, “How’s your search for a designer going?”
Chen Xiliang immediately sighed:
“Could I work as the designer part-time for now?”
China in 1980 did have fashion designers.
The prestigious Central Academy of Arts and Crafts, established in 1956, had departments for textile arts, ceramic arts, and decorative design.
The academy had many research studios covering everything from clothing and embroidery to furniture, offering not just the fashion design talent Chen Xiliang needed, but also the interior design expertise Liu Yong required… However, graduates wouldn’t look twice at their small companies. Why abandon state-assigned jobs to work for private employers? The companies might fail any day – the salary might be higher, but unstable!
Even thirty years later, some would consider a public service position paying a few thousand per month “stable.” This mindset was even more prevalent in the 1980s.
Now during Reform and Opening Up, if national policies changed and private business became forbidden again, what would happen to these college graduates who gave up their iron rice bowls?
Except for the desperately poor like Gong Yang, neither Chen Xiliang nor Liu Yong could easily recruit educated talent until their companies grew larger. With limited university enrollment, college graduates weren’t common, and with guaranteed state job assignments, why would they join small private companies?
“You can’t handle both design and business development. Occasional design work is fine, but besides you, the company needs dedicated designers… What about poaching from Yangcheng’s garment factories?”
Poaching was the simplest solution – they were skilled workers who could be trained quickly.
As for styles, even with limited design ability, they could copy patterns, right?
In fashion, they called it “drawing inspiration.”
Fashion had continuity – there were conventional ways to make pants and clothes.
No one made shirts with three sleeves or pants with one leg – how would those sell?
Such extreme designs only appeared on catwalks.
Yangcheng had many garment factories. Even if the poached workers had outdated design concepts, they could assist Chen Xiliang and free him from trivial matters.
Chen Xiliang’s dream of being a designer wasn’t wrong, but if he focused solely on design, who would handle everything else?
Chen Xiliang sighed, “That’s our only option for now. Once our brand is established, others will be begging to join!”
With the store secured, the processing factory arranged, and various procedures completed, “Luna” just needed clothes. Chen Xiliang wanted to test the market with a spring collection, though summer wear would be safer, allowing more preparation time for a more refined brand launch.
However, Xia Xiaolan agreed with Chen Xiliang’s suggestion.
A small-scale market test could gauge consumer response.
“Then we need to start store renovation quickly. Have you asked my uncle? Can Yuan Hui take this project?”
Liu Yong would need to visit Beijing. Besides “Luna’s” renovation, Blue Phoenix’s branch also needed work. Xia Xiaolan couldn’t ignore everything – she still had much to do before the Spring Festival.
…
There was no need to worry whether Yuan Hui could take the renovation project – Liu Yong would prioritize Xia Xiaolan’s work.
Meanwhile, in Shangdu, Li Fengmei was the one who couldn’t accept the situation.
After Liu Fen and Grandmother Yu visited Beijing, they returned saying they’d found and secured a store location, signed the contract, and paid the rent.
However, when Liu Fen proposed separate operations, giving the Shangdu clothing store directly to Li Fengmei, with future Beijing and Shangdu stores being “cooperative” rather than “partnership,” Li Fengmei disagreed:
“How could I face others?!”
Li Fengmei wasn’t worried about Xia Xiaolan and Liu Fen cutting her out, but rather that she was getting too good a deal!
The Shangdu clothing store had earned nearly 200,000 yuan in one year.
Now that the business was thriving, she would get all the benefits while Xia Xiaolan and Liu Fen had to pioneer the Beijing market alone.
No one could guarantee whether the new store would be profitable!
When Xia Xiaolan brought her in as a partner for the Shangdu store, it was to share profits with her. Now they wanted to hand over the entire store? Li Fengmei felt uncomfortable taking such advantage – how could anyone do business this way? Without her niece Xiaolan, she’d still be watching children and farming in Qijing Village. She couldn’t just burn bridges after crossing the river!