What a Scoundrel

A dozen minutes later, the valves were unloaded, and the driver drove back.

Fang Bai discussed the processing price for the three-inch gate valve with his father-in-law again.

Fourteen yuan per piece, leaving himself eleven yuan in profit margin. After deducting the rebate to Hua Feng, he actually only got nine yuan in hand.

The larger the valve specification, the bigger the profit margin.

"Boss Qin, you need to figure out a way to work overtime and hire more people. The order volume from Boli Company is huge—the first batch of two hundred pieces is just a trial run.

I can still get orders from other companies. You can't keep doing all the work yourself; you need to learn how to manage."

"Alright, I'll write up a hiring poster and recruit people right away." Seeing Fang Bai land an order from a second company, Qin Donghai was pumped full of adrenaline, brimming with fighting spirit.

Fang Bai took out a caliper on the spot to measure the dimensions of the three-inch gate valve and started designing specialized fixtures and drill jigs for this type of valve.

By noon, Fang Bai handed the design drawings to his father-in-law, and the rest was out of his hands.

Qin Donghai felt this kind of cooperation was pretty good—one person handled external affairs and key technology, while he just focused on the work, and he was making much more money than before.

That evening, Qin Donghai wanted to drink with Fang Bai.

Fang Bai wanted to decline, but it was hard to refuse such enthusiasm, so he agreed, knowing his father-in-law wanted to tie him tightly to the same chariot to keep the cooperation going.

Fang Bai went back to school for afternoon classes and told his younger sister to handle dinner herself—he had a banquet to attend.

The dinner venue was at a relatively upscale restaurant nearby, just Fang Bai and his father-in-law.

Qin Donghai ordered a few premium seafood dishes and brought two bottles of Maotai. This meal would probably cost over a hundred yuan.

At the time, a bottle of Feitian Maotai had a market price of several dozen yuan. If you could stash it away for thirty years, it could sell for ten to twenty thousand.

Fang Bai's alcohol tolerance now was nowhere near what it was in his past life. Back then, he'd built it up through practice. At first, the liquor went down smoothly, but the aftereffects hit hard. After drinking two ounces, he started feeling dizzy within minutes.

He tried to keep his mind clear to avoid saying anything wrong.

His father-in-law wasn't much of a drinker either, usually not drinking much. After they finished one bottle, both of them were slurring their words. Just like in his past life, they ended up calling each other brothers.

How it all went down was hard to describe, and Fang Bai couldn't remember. Anyway, they nearly swore brotherhood like the Peach Garden Oath, biting their fingers and drawing blood.

He'd started off with good intentions, but who knew his alcohol tolerance was so poor? His father-in-law kept plying him with drinks, almost as if on purpose.

"Old brother, let me tell you, as long as you can keep up on your end, I can get you as many orders as you want. If we brothers work well together, we'll be rolling in money in a year or two—have everything we want."

"That's what I admire about you, little brother. I can hold my liquor, but finding orders? No, I don't have that skill!

Come on, let's keep drinking—good cooperation, getting rich together."

"I can't drink anymore. If I keep going, I won't be able to find the bathroom."

"What's there to worry about? I'll help you find it later."

"Alright, let's keep going."

"Two good brothers! Five leaders, six-six smooth!"

"Good brothers! Eight horses, five fists! Old brother, you lost—drink up!"

Fang Bai had no idea how much he drank. He wanted to avoid getting drunk, but he was forced into it anyway. When they left the restaurant, he slapped two hundred-yuan bills on the counter blindly. The restaurant owner said the bill was already paid and stuffed the money back into his pocket.

When he woke up, he checked his watch—it was the dead of night. He looked around and realized he was sleeping in a hotel.

The hotel was decent, with a private bathroom and toiletries. It looked like his father-in-law had splurged again.

Fang Bai's head still ached, and his mouth was dry. Luckily, the hotel kettle had warm water, so he gulped down two big glasses.

He splashed some water on his face in the bathroom, then looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't seem like he'd made a fool of himself while drunk.

But who the hell knew? He couldn't remember anyway.

He tried hard to recall for a long time, but only had a vague impression. Aside from the scene of his father-in-law taking him to check in, he couldn't remember a single thing!

Damn it, alcohol really was gut-rotting poison!

"Good thing they didn't set me up with a girl. If Shuyu found out, she'd gut both me and her old man!"

Fang Bai laughed at himself, wondering what he'd said to his father-in-law last night, and whether he'd brought up Qin Shuyu at all.

He tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. He barely closed his eyes for the rest of the night—every time he did, he saw his father-in-law chasing him with a sledgehammer!

Just before dawn, he finally couldn't hold out any longer and dozed off for a bit.

At a little past seven in the morning, Fang Bai woke up, left the hotel, and nervously made his way to the Jiayu Processing Plant.

By then, Qin Donghai was already working.

Seeing Fang Bai arrive, he greeted him with a grin: "Little brother, you're here! Why not rest a bit longer?"

Hearing his father-in-law call him that, Fang Bai knew he hadn't said anything he shouldn't have. But that form of address—it looked like he'd become a "sinful" brother again in this life, huh.

He still remembered how in his past life, when his father-in-law found out about him and his daughter, his face went from red to green to purple—a total Sichuan opera master! He'd chased Fang Bai with a sledgehammer, moving like he had wind-fire wheels under his feet!

Now hearing his father-in-law call him "little brother" felt really weird.

Whatever. He'd just pretend he didn't know Qin Donghai was Qin Shuyu's father.

"I've slept enough. I came to check things out. You should take a break—don't operate the machinery after drinking." Fang Bai said with concern.

Qin Donghai waved his hand with a smile: "Don't worry, I know my own body best. If I felt off, I wouldn't push it."

"Then get on with your work."

Fang Bai confirmed that he hadn't been exposed last night, and left the Jiayu Processing Plant with peace of mind.

He planned to head to T City—not for valve orders, but for foreign waste.

Scavenging for secondhand equipment wasn't as easy as Fang Bai had initially imagined. Even with his Golden Finger, it was tough to land machinery with decent profit margins. It was time-consuming and labor-intensive, so he simply gave up on that money-making path.

Instead of messing with used equipment, he might as well go for electronic foreign waste.

Electronic foreign waste required a high level of technical skill to repair. For foreigners, hiring a dedicated repair technician was no cheap affair—it was easier to just toss it and buy new.

To Fang Bai, electronic foreign waste was treasure.

Where ordinary people struggled to pinpoint the root of a problem, Fang Bai only needed to touch it with his Golden Finger to know exactly where the issue lay, saving even the need for a testing instrument!

Jiangzhe Province also had a port for importing foreign waste—that was the Jiaojiang Port Terminal in T City, a well-known distribution hub for "foreign waste" in the country.

As far as Fang Bai knew, hundreds of ships carrying electronic waste from the Island Nation, Korea, and the USA arrived at the port every day.

Massive amounts of foreign waste were unloaded at T City's port, spawning dozens of dismantling enterprises in the process.

It had to be said that industries like recycling various waste resources accounted for a third of the total industrial output of T City's Luqiao and Jiaojiang districts, and generated more than half of T City Customs' total tariff revenue.

Of course, it also brought severe garbage pollution to T City. Many low-level workers often suffered from skin issues like redness, itching, and small bumps, along with a fair number of more serious illnesses.

What Fang Bai recycled were products already sorted by dismantling enterprises, with less pollution, so it wouldn't affect his health much.

After making up his mind, he decided to go to T City.

Wen City was just over a hundred kilometers from T City, but there was no expressway between them yet, so taking a bus took over two hours.

Fang Bai hurried back to his rental, packed his bags, slung his backpack on, and headed out.

In his backpack were his English review materials, a change of clothes, and all his cash.

Pressed for time, he quickly walked to the nearby Oubei Bus Station to buy a ticket to T City.

While waiting for the bus, Fang Bai started reviewing his English.

Around ten in the morning, Fang Bai arrived at T City station, then took a taxi from the station to the Jiaojiang Port Terminal.

The moment he reached his destination, he felt like fleeing the place!

Holy crap!

The several-hundred-meter-long dock was nothing but piles of garbage, stinking to high heaven.

Many workers on-site didn't even wear gloves, sorting the trash with their bare hands. Whatever had no value was tossed aside, or even burned on the spot.

But there was no helping it—for the domestic situation at this time, these foreign wastes really were treasures. The country was too short on raw materials.

Fang Bai hailed a rickshaw and asked the driver to take him around, while inquiring about the local situation.

For the sake of the fare and the cigarettes, the driver held nothing back. Fang Bai learned a lot from him.

Of course, Fang Bai also asked plenty of locals.

By noon, Fang Bai had gathered the information he wanted and zeroed in on his electronic product targets.