Chapter 145 Second Update

Chapter 145: Part 2

Huacai Garment Factory grew faster than Shen Moer had expected.

By the end of 1978, when the state officially decided to shift focus to economic development and implement reform and opening-up, policies loosened across the board, and the factory flourished even more.

By the second semester of her sophomore year, the factory's orders grew even larger, and Shen Moer’s daily workload increased significantly. As a result, she resigned from her position as class monitor and appeared on campus less frequently.

By then, almost everyone in the department knew that she had built a community-run business from scratch in the capital. Though labeled as such, nearly every design from the factory was a hit. While its scale couldn’t compare to that of several large garment factories, it outperformed them by far.

It was said that the factory paid workers as much as state-owned factories, with better benefits—workers got holiday bonuses and gifts.

The only area where it fell short of state-owned factories was getting company housing.

However, the factory rented several courtyards as dormitories for employees. Those who lived in the dorms received half of the housing subsidy, while those who didn't received the full amount—nearly one-third of their wages.

Do the math: for locals in the capital who already had housing, this meant earning an extra one-third of their salary every month.

Calculated this way, the wages were much higher than those of state-owned factories!

While other students were still doing odd jobs at school-run businesses to gain experience, Shen Moer was already leading a company with an excellent reputation and clear potential for growth.

When she came in first in her class at the end of her first semester, earning first-class scholarships and special commendations, many thought she just got lucky.

It was just luck that she saved someone on a train, her father happened to know how to paint, and she just happened to come up with the idea of decorating electric fans.

But as Huacai Garment Factory became famous in the capital, the widening gap finally silenced the jealous comments.

The disparity was too vast—there was simply no room left for jealousy.

The years passed quickly, and soon it was autumn 1980.

"Mom, I don’t want to go to school."

Little Liang Liang, just over three years old, dragged the small backpack her mother had made for her, pouting stubbornly, her chubby cheeks expressing her reluctance, her lips pursed high.

Shen Moer glanced down at her. "Going to school is something every child must do, just like eating and sleeping. It’s not something you can skip just because you don’t want to."

Liang Liang declared, "Then starting today, I won’t eat or sleep."

Shen Moer almost laughed. "Do you think you’re some immortal? Not eating or sleeping? You’d die like a mouse if you did that."

A few days earlier, a mouse had appeared in the courtyard. Fu Mingze managed to find a packet of rat poison, and the next day, the mouse lay dead by the wall.

At first, no one noticed—until little Liang Liang, riding the bamboo horse her grandfather had made for her, discovered it while playing in the yard.

The little girl was naturally fearless. Instead of being scared, she asked her father endless questions about what had happened to the mouse.

Fu Zhiqing, though he usually looked indifferent and often threw sarcastic remarks at his daughter, was a complete pushover when it came to his daughter.

He saw nothing wrong with her curiosity and patiently explained the concepts of rat poison and death—even detailing the ingredients in the poison.

Now, the little one understood what "dead" meant. But when Shen Moer said she’d die like the mouse if she didn’t eat or sleep, she had an answer ready.

"The mouse died from eating poison, not from not eating or sleeping."

Shen Moer was speechless.

She shot a glare at Fu Mingze, who was adjusting the child seat on his bicycle’s crossbar. "Come deal with your daughter."

Little Liang Liang dug in her heels: "Fu Zhiqing, I don't want to go to school."

Fu Mingze turned to look at the mother-daughter pair dressed in identical lightweight knit sweaters and skirts. Their nearly identical eyes were fixed on him, clearly expecting him to mediate.

He couldn’t help but laugh, swept up his daughter, and placed her in the bike's front child seat. Gently smoothing her slightly tousled hair, he said:

"Your mom’s right—everyone has to go to school. You can't just skip it because you don’t want to. Besides, didn’t you make good friends at kindergarten? Don’t you want to see them?"

Little Liang Liang finally grumbled, sulking: "But I want to see Grandpa."

Only then did Shen Moer realize why her little one was acting up about school—she missed her grandfather.

Before coming to the capital, Shen Shaoyuan had planned to find work as an editor or something similar to bring in some money. But plans changed—once in the capital, he realized his daughter and son-in-law were too busy with their studies to spare time for childcare.

When the publishing house began preparing to release comic books, Shen Shaoyuan decided not to seek outside work and instead stayed home to care for his granddaughter while drawing.

Three years passed like this, with the little one spending far more time with her grandfather than with her parents.

This autumn, she was finally old enough for kindergarten. With her parents able to arrange time to take her to and from school—or her grandparents stepping in if needed—Shen Shaoyuan set off with Zhou Ping'an on a field trip organized by the publishing house.

He had been gone for half a month. Their last call had them in a county town in Hexi Province, documenting preserved historic buildings.

At first, the little girl had asked daily where her grandfather was. After the call, she stopped—Shen Moer thought she had accepted his absence, never realizing she was hoping to go find him.

"Grandpa went somewhere way too far, baby. We can’t go there," Shen Moer said softly, stroking her daughter’s head.

The child turned to her father. Fu Mingze’s gaze was tender as he agreed, "Your mom’s right. Grandpa’s place is too far for you now. When you’re older, you can go. But if you’re good at school, you can call Grandpa tonight."

Little Liang Liang pouted, finally relenting: "Okay."

Miles away, Shen Shaoyuan, exploring historic sites under the Hexi sun, sneezed twice. When someone asked if he’d caught a chill, he smiled and said, "Probably my granddaughter missing me."

They chuckled, unaware that as Shen Shaoyuan studied the old pagoda before him, his thoughts had already turned to going home.

After raising the little one for over three years, this was the longest he’d ever been apart from her. He felt her absence.

Meanwhile, after dropping their daughter at kindergarten, Shen Moer and Fu Mingze biked to campus together.

Shen Moer had two morning classes; Fu Mingze had none but usually spent his free time helping out in his professor’s lab.

After her lectures, Shen Moer walked to the cafeteria with Yuan Lan, who brought up as they walked:

"By the way, next month, overseas Chinese entrepreneurs are returning to explore investment opportunities. The department secured several helper positions—working alongside foreign language students to serve the overseas Chinese businessmen. Want to sign up?"

After resigning as class monitor, Yuan Lan had successfully campaigned to become Political Economy Class 1’s new leader.

Shen Moer thought it over. "I'll sit this one out. It’s a rare chance—let others gain experience."

She had plenty of opportunities to meet foreign and overseas Chinese investors. Even if Huacai Garment Factory wasn’t yet eligible for the Canton Fair, she could always go with other companies if she wanted to visit Guangzhou.

Yuan Lan nodded. "That makes sense."

She’d guessed Shen Moer wouldn’t join but felt obliged to mention it.

Unbeknownst to them, the department was simultaneously holding a meeting about the matter. After discussion, they decided on ten slots: six filled through open selection, four assigned by the department.

Since this involved serving overseas Chinese businessmen, they needed to present their best—at minimum, our top students had to participate, showcasing the caliber of China’s contemporary university students.

"From the Political Economy Class of '77, send Shen Moer! She runs that garment factory, right? Maybe the overseas Chinese businessmen will invest in her," the white-haired, mischievous Dean suggested cheerfully.