Chapter 11: Brimming with Opportunities

"Thank you for your consideration, sir."
Chai Jin raised his glass with practiced ease and toasted the leader.
"No need for thanks, we're all easy to talk to."
"Young man, running a distillery is no easy business. You'll need to be patient."
"I wish you prosperity in your enterprise."
Kong Xiangdong was cunning, but not insatiable.
Dao Xiang Distillery was a liability for the city; they'd already tried to get some companies to take it over.
But would any entrepreneur be interested?
With the current wave of enterprise reform swelling, so many prime assets awaited acquisition.
Why would anyone take over a small factory that's been losing money for years?
In such circumstances, what profit could there be?
Liu Qingwen
A carton of cigarettes was enough.
There were many such minor leaders now, holding crucial authority, swept along by the tide, unconcerned with the factory's future.
This led to numerous state assets being sold off at low prices.
Of course, fate comes full circle; those who took advantage would soon cough it up.
Chai Jin had no intention of judging their actions—as long as you don't stand in my way, and if it's within my means, I'll solve it with money whenever possible.
The drinking lasted late into the night.
Past midnight, Zhang Aimin rode the factory’s delivery tricycle to make a run.
Liu Qingwen, drunk beyond measure, lay asleep in the factory kitchen, dreaming of becoming a general manager.
Chai Jin had drunk his share too, but with so many worries, his mind remained unusually clear.
He paced alone through the small distillery, lost in thought.
Over the next several days, director Zhang Aimin completed the necessary procedures with the relevant departments.
They signed a contract for an annual lease fee of twenty thousand yuan.
It was signed in Zhang Aimin’s name.
Chai Jin also made a proxy stock agreement with Zhang Aimin, fully transforming into the distillery’s behind-the-scenes owner.
Yet, strangely, Chai Jin did not become the stormy, energetic figure people might have expected.
For several days he stayed at home, tending to farm work.
Only at night, by the glow of a kerosene lamp, did he scribble and sketch out many plans.
By mid-October, the local rice harvest was complete.
After drying the grain and paying the public levy, only some cotton and cash crops remained, which didn’t require urgent harvesting—time was abundant.

After days of absence, Chai Jin finally began working his connections.
First, he spoke to Zhang Aimin about expanding the workforce.
Zhang Aimin was baffled.
Usually, after someone took over a reformed enterprise, their first move was to cut staff and save on expenses, starting afresh.
Yet Chai Jin was doing the opposite—hiring more people.
Not only that, he asked Zhang Aimin to speed up the production of rice wine now that the second-season rice had just hit the market and prices were low.
He wanted to seize the Spring Festival surge in liquor sales.
Zhang Aimin had plenty to say, but as Chai Jin was now the boss, he could only comply.
Truckloads of rice rolled into the factory.
Within three or four days, over forty new workers were hired.
The once quiet factory suddenly hummed with activity.
Only Zhang Aimin’s heart remained uneasy.
With so many employees, the distillery’s liquor stock kept piling up.
If things continued this way, the factory’s cash flow would soon be in jeopardy.
Xiao Chai was walking a razor’s edge—after all this time, still not a single sign of progress.
Then, by mid-November, a massive story broke internationally.
The socialist elder brother, the Soviet Union, officially declared a state of national emergency.
Anyone who kept up with global affairs understood that this superpower was likely headed for dissolution.
Chai Jin was busy every day.
When he saw the news, he’d just left the Yuanli County Glass Factory and was sitting in a fast-food restaurant.
At Chai Jin’s request, the glass factory had produced ten thousand one-hundred-milliliter mini bottles for liquor.
The bottles were distinctive: flat, comfortable to hold, just the right size.
Chopsticks in hand, he suddenly recalled the legendary man from his past life who traded planes for canned goods in Russia.
Wasn’t that man the one who, after the Soviet collapse, seized the moment and made a fortune?
He was the original master of making something out of nothing.
Now reborn, Chai Jin wondered—could he do the same?
His emotions surged.
Even if the distillery succeeded, money would flow slowly.
Since fate had given him this second chance, he would not let a single opportunity for wealth slip by.
Whatever Mu Qizhong had achieved in his last life, Chai Jin believed he could do as well.
People nearby lamented what was happening on television.
Only Chai Jin remained silent, plotting his own scheme to turn wealth.
After his meal, Chai Jin rushed to the packaging factory.
After paying for custom packaging materials, his funds dwindled to less than two thousand yuan.

The factory’s working capital was on the verge of collapse.
If this gamble failed, the distillery would face disaster paying next month’s wages.
With seventy or eighty employees, their salaries simply couldn’t be met.
Not to mention the lease payments owed to the authorities.
Chai Jin was playing a reckless, high-stakes game.
Standing amid the bustling streets of Yuanli County, he waited for someone to arrive.
He’d never smoked in his previous life, but now, for some reason, he craved a cigarette.
He bought a pack, lit one, and gazed at the city—just emerging from its gray era, a hint of color returning—his heart a raging tide.
Twenty minutes later,
A pleasant voice called out from afar, “Chai Jin, over here.”
He looked up and saw his sister’s friend, Wang Xiaoli.
Today, Wang Xiaoli was dressed in youthful style.
Her twin ponytails danced in the breeze, and her delicate nose was strikingly high.
Her slim pants perfectly outlined her long legs.
From a distance, Chai Jin suddenly understood why Liu Jun was so smitten with this girl.
He also realized why everyone called her the factory beauty.
If she dressed up just a little more, Chai Jin was sure she’d possess a beauty that could topple kingdoms.
She stopped her bicycle in front of him.
Lively, Wang Xiaoli tapped the back seat, “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
Chai Jin smiled and shook his head, “I’d rather ride myself—I don’t like being chauffeured by a woman.”
Her almond-shaped eyes sparkled.
She thought for a moment, “Alright, you ride then.”
“Hurry up, though. I had to beg our factory director to agree to meet you.
Just ten minutes—you’ll have to make the most of it.”
Chai Jin mounted the bicycle, glanced back with a smile, “Thank you, Sister Li.”
“No need to be formal with me,” Wang Xiaoli muttered quietly.
The lighter factory was the final link in Chai Jin’s distillery promotion plan.
It was crucial.
If all went well, Chai Jin believed the distillery would soon revive and enter a period of explosive growth.
If this path was blocked, everything he’d done so far would be wasted.
And he would be forced into an extremely passive situation.