Making Me Work Weekend Duty? Perfect Cover!

It was a little past three on Thursday afternoon, and the office was filled with the sound of typing. Zhou Bin wandered over to Lin Fan's desk with a printed sheet in hand.

"Xiao Lin, I need to talk to you about something." He set the paper on the desk. It was this weekend's duty roster. "I put you down for Saturday and Sunday."

Lin Fan glanced at it. Zhou Bin's name had originally been printed in the duty column, but it had been crossed out in pen, with Lin Fan's name handwritten beside it.

"Brother Bin, isn't it your turn this weekend?"

"That's why I'm discussing it with you." Zhou Bin pulled over a chair and sat down, lowering his voice in a friendly manner. "I've got dinner with two major merchants on Saturday night. It's relationship maintenance, it's work for the team too. You think I can get away?"

He paused, then patted the sheet again.

"Besides, duty shifts are good for newcomers. You'll get calls from every category, which is more useful than reading reports for a month. Back when I first started, people fought over these shifts."

"Alright, Brother Bin. I'll cover it."

"That's more like it." Zhou Bin got to his feet, then turned back after taking two steps. "Oh, and that shipping-origin figure. Since you'll be free while on duty this weekend, work it out while you're at it. Give it to me on Monday, and I'll present it at next week's meeting."

Then he left.

Lin Fan stared at the amended duty roster for two seconds.

He knew this routine well. In his previous life, Zhou Bin had ordered him around the same way—duty shifts, errands, checking figures. It was a newcomer's duty. Back then, Lin Fan had silently taken on everything for a full two years. Yet whenever the figures were ready, the person presenting them at meetings was never him.

The next step was easy. The troublesome part was the timing.

He had originally planned to head to Yiwu early Saturday morning.

Over the past two weeks, he had figured out the rules for duty shifts. An old Nokia served as the duty phone and had to stay on twenty-four hours a day. Merchants' urgent calls and backend alert messages all went to that number. No one was required to sit in the office, but if anything happened, the person on duty had to handle it immediately.

Zhou Bin's move had landed right on top of his plans.

Agree first. He could figure out a way tonight.

He folded the roster and tucked it beneath his keyboard, then went back to work.

Someone at the neighboring desk muttered quietly, "Newcomers all have to tough it out like this."

When he got home that night, he started shipping orders.

There were eighteen orders today, four more than yesterday. He squatted on the floor, opening packages and matching sizes, winding strip after strip of tape around them. Halfway through, Ma Le shuffled past the door in slippers.

"Well, look at you, working late again, Boss."

"Yeah. Hard work, Boss Ma. Make sure the rent comes in on time."

"Smart mouth." Ma Le laughed and swayed back into his room.

Once the packages were stacked by the door, Lin Fan washed his face and returned to his desk, opening a notebook where he kept his accounts.

Time to settle the full balance.

His entire fortune was five thousand yuan. Two thousand had gone into the trial-stock purchase, leaving three thousand in cash, untouched.

He had bought over four hundred pairs of leggings and sold a little over thirty. The money from those sales was sitting in Alipay. Between buyers confirming receipt and withdrawals clearing, it would take nearly half a month. The money also had to go into Ma Le's card first before being transferred to him. It was too far away to solve his immediate problem.

His month-end salary was around four thousand yuan. After rent and enough money for food, there would not be much left to squeeze out.

No matter how he looked at it, the only money he could use was these three thousand yuan.

In his previous life, the payments he signed off on had run into seven figures each. In this life, he had three thousand yuan in his pocket and had to count every bill before spending it.

But these three thousand had to be spent this weekend.

There was a small knitting factory in Yiwu whose owner was named He Guangfu. During the years when Lin Fan had built blockbuster products in his previous life, he had sourced goods from that factory. Their products had solid quality, their prices were fair, and the owner was straightforward. He only accepted one thing: cash.

Late August was the hardest time for knitting factories. Summer goods sat in warehouses, unable to turn into cash, while autumn and winter orders had yet to pick up. Workers needed paying, rent was due, and at a time like this, customers carrying cash to the door were lifesavers.

A pair of leggings cost him four yuan fifty at the wholesale market. If he bought directly from Old He's factory, he could negotiate it down to just over three yuan.

That extra yuan or so was no small matter. On a thousand pairs, it meant over a thousand yuan. More importantly, it would let him move volume.

The big sellers were all clearing summer stock and hoarding big-ticket autumn and winter items. None of them gave little things like leggings a second glance. By the time the weather turned cooler in mid-September and the data surged, they would rush back into the market. By then, he would already have sales, reviews, and rankings built up, along with rock-bottom costs. What would they have to compete with him?

Besides, once he established this connection with Old He, he would have a direct channel for whatever seasonal goods he needed in the future.

This bargain was sitting right there, waiting for him this weekend.

If he delayed another week, it would be September. There would not be enough time to build up reviews, and once Old He's autumn and winter orders started coming in, his prices would rise again. Neither side could wait.

He had to go. The only remaining problem was duty.

He ran through the duty phone he had yet to collect in his mind. It was a China Mobile number, and Yiwu was not some mountain backwater—the signal would be full. If a merchant called, answering from the bus station would sound no different from answering at his desk. If the backend really sent an alert, Yiwu had internet cafés everywhere.

There was only one real risk: Zheng Haifeng or Zhou Bin might suddenly decide to have him return to the office and show his face. That kind of thing did not happen once in ten weekends. He would gamble on it.

Thinking one layer deeper, this duty shift had come at exactly the right time.

Everyone in the team would know he was on duty over the weekend, so no one would ask where he was. Zhou Bin had arranged the shift himself, personally giving him a perfect alibi for his weekend whereabouts.

At that thought, Lin Fan laughed to himself.

He'd remember this favor from Brother Bin.

In his notebook, he listed everything out one by one: withdraw the money after work on Friday, three thousand yuan exactly; take the first bus to Yiwu on Saturday; keep the duty phone with him; meet Old He; inspect the goods; negotiate the price; finalize it on the spot if possible; ship the goods by logistics directly downstairs.

His pen paused, and he added one final line: get it down to three yuan, starting from one thousand pairs.

His computer chimed again. Another new order.

He closed the notebook and finished taping up the last few packages. Tomorrow, he would go to work as usual. The day after tomorrow, he would head to Yiwu to bring in the first batch of direct-source goods of this life.