The Stunningly Beautiful and Delicate Darling in the 1980s Military Compound - Chapter 54

If there was one field Song Mingyue excelled in, it was fashion. She had once founded her own clothing brand; although it hadn’t become a global empire, her years of experience remained intact.

However, she knew that building a brand from scratch was no easy feat. Success wasn’t as simple as selling what people around her liked to wear. It required market data, a vision for future trends, and—most importantly—capital.

This was their immediate hurdle. While wages in the military compound were higher than elsewhere, the “Economic base determines the superstructure.” Aside from Zhao Xing, none of them had formal jobs. They relied on their partners for support, which made it hard to be truly assertive about risky financial ventures.

“Should I talk to Old Yu and see if we can withdraw our savings?” Zhang Jingjing suggested with a sigh.

Zhao Xing was also full of regret. She had a stable, decent job at the Art Troupe, but her salary usually vanished into thin air due to her love for trendy clothes and snacks. She was now considering whether she had anything worth taking to a pawnshop.

Mingyue didn’t have much cash either, and like Jingjing, she didn’t want to ask her husband for money to fund an uncertain business. If they didn’t have money, they would just have to earn it.

The next afternoon, Mingyue and Jingjing rode their bicycles back to the Honghe Commune to find Pei Xiaoyu. Summer was fading, and the current crop of watermelons was the last of the season.

They met Xiaoyu outside her school. The security guard, much friendlier this time, invited them inside to wait in the shade. When the bell rang, Xiaoyu rushed out, her face lighting up at the sight of them.

Jingjing took Xiaoyu’s heavy backpack. “You’re only in middle school; why is this so heavy?”

Xiaoyu blushed. Aside from books, the bag was filled with scraps and recyclables she had scavenged to sell for extra household money. Compared to her classmates, Xiaoyu’s clothes were tattered and faded, covered in patches.

“Xiaoyu,” Jingjing said, her heart aching. “I told you to use the money from last time to buy some new clothes.”

Xiaoyu looked down, her voice small. “My mother’s health isn’t great. I used it for her medicine.”

Mingyue patted the girl’s head. “You’re a good daughter, Xiaoyu.”

On the way back, Mingyue surveyed the fields. “Xiaoyu, are there still melons in your family’s plot?”

“Yes! Sister Mingyue, are we going to sell them?”

“We are,” Mingyue said firmly. “But your plot isn’t enough. Do you know how much the other villagers are selling their melons for?”

“About eight cents a catty,” Xiaoyu replied. Farmers usually sold them for whatever they could get at the end of the season.

“We’re tight on cash right now. Go ask them if they’ll sell to us for seven cents a catty. We’ll come to their door to collect them.” Mingyue calculated that while seven cents was lower than the market rate, the convenience of not having to haul the heavy melons to the city would appeal to most villagers.

“Xiaoyu,” Mingyue added, “start by offering six cents. If they won’t budge, move to seven.”

Xiaoyu caught on quickly. Half an hour later, she returned beaming. “They all agreed to seven cents!”

Mingyue’s plan was to target state-owned factories and schools. The four women split into two teams: Jingjing and Xiaoyu took the schools, while Mingyue and Zhao Xing targeted the steel plant.

It was grueling physical labor. Mingyue, who usually avoided the sun at all costs, was now fully “armored” in a wide-brimmed hat, long blue pants, a white shirt, and protective arm sleeves.

The state-owned steel plant was a short ride from the compound. Mingyue arrived and began spreading a blue cloth on the ground to display her melons.

Suddenly, a middle-aged, slightly plump man in a factory leadership uniform approached her. “Comrade Mingyue! Why are you here so early?”

Mingyue searched her memory but couldn’t place him. The man was enthusiastic, fanning himself with a paper fan. “Commander Chen already spoke to me. Weren’t you supposed to start next week? It was hard to squeeze out a spot in the current quota. Are you here for a site visit?”

Through his rambling, Mingyue realized what had happened. Chen Che had gone behind her back to pull favors and secure her a “iron rice bowl” job at the steel plant. He had never mentioned it, likely remembering her complaints about being bored at home.

In this era, a job at the steel plant was highly coveted—it was the ultimate security. Even the principled Chen Che had bent the rules for her.

However, Mingyue’s heart wasn’t in a factory job. She knew the “layoff wave” was coming in a few years. But rejecting the man now would be like slapping Chen Che in the face. Moreover, she needed to stay on good terms with the factory leadership to sell her wares.

She picked out a prime melon and handed it to him with a smile. “I’ll discuss it with Chen Che tonight. I actually came today to sell some watermelons. Please, take this one as a gift.”

“Selling watermelons?” The man was surprised. Private trading was becoming common, but it wasn’t a “real” job. He tried to decline, but Mingyue insisted. Having accepted the gift, the man felt he couldn’t chase her away. “I’ll follow up on your paperwork tomorrow. See you next week!”

As the shift ended, a tide of workers poured out of the gates. Zhao Xing arrived just in time.

The heat was stifling, and the sweaty workers were desperate for something cold. The watermelons were a hit. In less than thirty minutes, they were sold out. No one even haggled; they just handed over the money and started eating.

As they were packing up, the plump man returned. He had already taken his melon home. “How many more of these do you have?” he asked Mingyue.

“A fair amount. Why?”

“Don’t bother selling them on the street. It’s too hot. How many do you have? Our factory canteen wants to buy them in bulk to improve the workers’ meals during this heatwave. I can give you the same price we paid last month—twelve cents a catty.”

Mingyue’s eyes lit up. A factory with thousands of workers meant an enormous supply volume. This could clear out their entire inventory in one go.

“Ten cents is fine,” Mingyue offered graciously. “These are fresh from the village and taste great.”

“Ten cents it is! Bring as many as you have tomorrow morning. Our canteen can handle it.”

After he left, Zhao Xing stood there in a daze. “Is… is business really this easy?”

Mingyue smiled. “Business isn’t easy, Xingxing. We just got very lucky today.”