Chapter Sixty-Two: Throwing Caution to the Wind

After wrapping things up at the food factory, they headed straight to the First Textile Mill. Along the way, the sight of those fresh-faced young women nearly dazzled the two of them. They couldn't help but feel as though they'd walked into a land of women.

There was an old rhyme everyone in the capital knew: "First Mill is big, Second Mill is small, Third Mill doesn’t even have a canteen!" The "First Mill" referred to this very textile mill, which, like the Red Star Steel Mill, was a key unit under the Ministry of Industry—top-tier in both workforce size and employee benefits.

As for the "Second Mill is small," that meant the Second Textile Mill, where outdated machinery and a smaller staff meant lagging far behind the first in every aspect. The Third Textile Mill was little more than a joke—a tiny collective workshop run by the neighborhood committee.

When they arrived at the administrative building of the First Textile Mill, Li Yuanchao took Chen Liang straight to the director’s office. The moment Chen Liang greeted the director as "Uncle," he knew the deal was as good as done. Sure enough, as soon as Li Yuanchao explained their purpose, the director immediately agreed and even volunteered to take the rest of the goods off their hands.

Little did Chen Liang know just how much he was helping the textile mill; their warehouses were already bursting with surplus cloth they could do nothing with. Like the steel mill, the textile mill was labor-intensive, but here, the assembly line never stopped—machines ran around the clock, and workers rotated in three shifts. Every month, surplus production piled up in the warehouse, but the factory dared not sell it off privately, so the cloth just sat there and rotted. Now, they could finally exchange all that excess fabric for logs to distribute as employee benefits.

Leaving the administrative building, the two old-timers squatted by the roadside, smoking and watching the endless stream of young women and matrons passing in and out. They could hardly keep their mouths from watering. This was far more exciting than anything they'd seen on the street.

In those days, major factories like these all had their own residential compounds—complete with hospitals, schools, cinemas, supply stores—everything you’d find outside, you’d find inside. Each was a self-contained little kingdom where most daily needs could be met without ever stepping outside.

"Little Mengchang, I owe you one for this," Chen Liang said, eyes glued to a particularly long-legged beauty who’d just walked by. "If you ever need anything, just say the word!"

"Enough with the formalities," Li Yuanchao replied. "If we’re friends, don’t talk nonsense. After all I’ve helped you with today, how about treating me to a meal at Lao Mo’s?"

Chen Liang grinned. "No problem! But not tonight—I’ve got to let the others know about the deal. Or better yet, why don’t you stick around and later we’ll go feast at Donglaishun together?"

"Absolutely," Li Yuanchao replied. "I’d love to meet this Northeastern friend who’s managed to get you so worked up!"

"That’s why you’re my friend, Little Mengchang! But fair warning, my two buddies are legendary drinkers. Don’t blame me if you end up being carried home!"

Li Yuanchao shot him a look. "What, you think I can’t hold my liquor? Whoever chickens out is the grandson!"

"Glad to hear it!" Chen Liang snickered inwardly. Tonight, he’d show them what a true master of the bottle was.

The two of them rode their bicycles to the city guesthouse, where Chen Liang introduced Li Yuanchao to Zhang Cheng and Zhang Yi.

"Cheng, let me introduce my friend, Li Yuanchao."

Once everyone was acquainted, things quickly became friendly. Chen Liang handed Zhang Cheng a list. "Here are the goods I managed to exchange for you this afternoon. Take a look—if you’re not satisfied, we can keep working on it."

Zhang Cheng, still a bit groggy from his midday drinking, glanced at the list and immediately felt a surge of emotion. He’d hoped for a ten-to-one trade at best; he never dreamed that Zhang Yi’s offhand request would yield a full exchange.

Overcome, Zhang Cheng clutched Chen Liang’s hand. "Brother, I can’t thank you enough. On behalf of the tens of thousands of workers and their families at the forestry station, I owe you a debt of gratitude!"

"Don’t flatter me, Cheng. I couldn’t have done this alone. My friend here is our own Mengchang of the capital—he did the heavy lifting. Tonight, you’d better make sure to thank him properly!" Chen Liang laughed heartily. After that bit of bravado, if he didn’t have to help carry them out tonight, he’d eat his words.

"Of course, of course—tonight’s dinner is on me, and I insist you let me thank you both!"

Chen Liang frowned. "What are you talking about? You want to treat us in our own city? Not on your life! Tonight at Donglaishun, everything goes according to my plan!"

Zhang Cheng could only smile sheepishly. "Forgive me for overstepping. Tonight, I’ll be sure to show my appreciation."

Then he turned to Zhang Yi. "Brother, go send a telegram right away—have the family load the shipment tonight and send it out!"

"Let’s hurry, or the telegraph office will close soon!"

Once Zhang Yi had sent the telegram, the four of them rushed off by bicycle to Donglaishun. It was the perfect season for hotpot, and if they arrived too late, they’d miss out on a private room.

When they reached the restaurant, it was the height of the dinner rush. As soon as they stepped inside, the rich aroma of lamb and sesame paste filled the air, utterly tantalizing.

"Hello, comrade, do you have any private rooms left?"

The waiter glanced at the four of them, smartly dressed. "Yes, right this way."

Once inside, Chen Liang didn’t even wait for an introduction. "Bring us a copper pot, two sets of the classic four sides—bean sprouts, vermicelli, frozen tofu, and baby bok choy—and ten plates of lamb. That’s it." It was the quintessential order for an old hand from the capital.

"Ah, you’re a regular!" the waiter replied knowingly. Any local would recognize that order.

While waiting for the food, Chen Liang slipped out to the supply store next door and bought four bottles of Maotai, a case of Xifeng, and a case of Fenjiu.

"Sorry for the delay—had to pick up the liquor!"

By the time he returned, the food was on the table, but no one had started eating—they were still chatting away. Seeing the mountain of alcohol, Zhang Cheng and Zhang Yi, who’d already each drunk six or seven jin of baijiu at lunch and were only just recovering, both turned pale.

Oh no, this kid is too enthusiastic! Not everyone can keep up with a god of wine like you…

But it was too late for regrets. The brothers exchanged a look. Well, tonight we’ll risk life and limb for the sake of friendship—one of us is definitely going down before the night is over!