Tell Me, Who is Han Li?

Fang Bai lay in bed, missing that silly girl who loved wearing big swing skirts, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

"Since I'm thinking about her, I might as well go tomorrow."

"I'll test the TVs I'm repairing for the next two days tomorrow, then head back the day after—won't mess up business."

"Yeah, and I'll buy that silly girl a pager, so it'll be easier to keep in touch from now on."

He'd originally planned to wait until Qin Shuyu replied with her specific dorm address before going, but that would take days.

Whenever he thought of that big swing skirt, it felt like an invisible force was pulling him, and the longing in his heart grew stronger every day.

Knowing which campus, grade, and major she was in would make finding her a hassle, but it was still better than searching for a needle in a haystack.

With that settled in his mind, he quickly fell asleep.

That night, Fang Bai slept soundly.

But Guangtou Qiang, who'd discovered the money jar under his bed was empty and his chicken was gone, couldn't sleep at all.

"Damn it, who the hell is Han Li?"

"Han Li, do I have some grudge with you? Stealing my money is bad enough, but you take my chicken too? Why not just swipe my underwear while you're at it?"

"Scumbag, you even left shit in the jar!"

A few hours earlier, he and his lackey had slowly pushed a wooden handcart back.

At first, he hadn't noticed anything off.

Just as he was about to lie down on his bed, he spotted a line of writing. His pupils instantly dilated, his mouth slightly open, his whole face a mask of shock.

He immediately pulled out the jar and reached inside.

At first, he touched a stack of bills, but something felt wrong—the money was damp.

Then a stench of chicken shit blasted out of the jar as he yanked the money out.

But what came out wasn't money at all!

It was his own toilet paper—no wonder it felt off.

Shit, and it was covered in crap!

Guangtou Qiang roared, furious, his rage boiling over as he smashed the jar to pieces.

The lackey outside heard the commotion and came in, confused: "Brother Qiang, what's up?"

"Some damn bastard stole my money!"

"Who? You just found out?"

"Fuck, look at the writing on the ground. Damn it, if I ever find this Han Li, I'll kill him."

The lackey noticed the words on the dirt floor, read them, and was stunned too. Then he ran to his own small room, saw his money was still there, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Just as he got back to Brother Qiang's room, he heard him cursing again, like an angry lion, saying the chicken was gone too.

"Brother Qiang, should we call the cops?"

"Call your sister!

Damn it, stealing a chicken too—got no shame at all!"

Guangtou Qiang swore back at him. Calling the cops would mean turning himself in—he'd done plenty of illegal stuff this past year.

The lackey wanted to say that a thief wouldn't have shame in the first place, but he didn't dare. Standing a few meters away, he asked, "So what do we do?"

"Who the hell is this bastard Han Li?"

"No idea. Could be a random thief, or maybe someone messing with you, Brother Qiang."

"If it was a thief, the place would be ransacked, but it's not. That means they knew where I kept the money." Guangtou Qiang turned to the lackey, eyes fixed on him. "Did you ever brag to anyone and leak where my money was?"

He trusted the lackey wouldn't dare steal from him, but the guy liked to shoot his mouth off.

Luckily, he hadn't stashed all his money there.

The lackey felt Guangtou Qiang's gaze boring into him and got flustered, quickly explaining: "Brother Qiang, even if I bragged, I'd never tell anyone where your money was. You've gotta believe me—if I was gonna steal, I'd have done it long ago. Maybe some passerby took it?"

"No way it's a passerby. It's definitely someone familiar, someone who's been here and knew where I hid the cash. They came straight for the jar." Guangtou Qiang furrowed his brow, gritting his teeth as he thought back to the villagers who'd visited him.

With that line of thought, he immediately came up with seven or eight people, and two or three were highly likely.

Hundreds of kilometers away, Fang Bai had no idea what expression Guangtou Qiang made when he found the money missing, but he could guess.

What he didn't know was that after discovering the loss, Guangtou Qiang felt fixing bikes for money was too slow. A month later, he tried to rob a jewelry store, failed to escape, and ended up back in prison.

The next morning, As Fang Bai ate breakfast with his parents, he told them he was going to Shen City to see Qin Shuyu, leaving that afternoon. He'd be back by the day after at the earliest, or the day after that at the latest. If anything came up, they could page him.

If business took a hit, taking a day or two off wouldn't matter.

"Going is a good idea. Spend more time with Xiao Yu. Making all that money is just for finding a wife and having kids anyway, haha." Liu Fengqing was very open-minded; she'd love for her son to stay there a few extra days.

If the university hadn't banned marriage and kids, she'd have wanted grandchildren ages ago.

"Go ahead, leave things at home to me—no problem."

Fang Shi chuckled. He'd never met Qin Shuyu, but his wife said the girl was well-behaved and treated their son well, making her the perfect daughter-in-law. He didn't hold the old-fashioned view that students shouldn't date. Now that his son had a career going and decent grades—enough to get into college—he'd end up starting a business after graduation anyway, so he'd need a wife eventually. Qin Shuyu was a student at a prestigious university and a local girl born and raised here—what more could they ask for? But if it were his daughter dating that early, that'd be a hard no—he'd straighten her out with a belt. Thinking that, Fang Shi figured the girl's parents probably felt the same.

"Son, do that girl's parents approve of you two?"

"They don't know yet. We'll talk about it after I get into college. Don't worry about it."

"Alright, I'm just reminding you—if she treats you well and means it, don't get fickle when you have money."

"I won't. I'm going to study now; I've got to head out later."

Fang Bai didn't want to dwell on this topic. If he did, his parents might start asking about Qin Shuyu's birth date and time, or even get curious enough to sneak a peek at her parents—how awkward would that be? So he didn't tell them where her parents lived exactly, just that they were in business. He went upstairs to the second floor to study for a while, and when the part-time college students arrived for work, Fang Bai told them he'd be away on a business trip for the next two days and had them handle the first step: disassembling the outer shell.

Recently, Fang Bai had made a simple process card, breaking down the TV refurbishment into seven steps.

Step 1 (Disassemble shell): Open the TV casing. Step 2 (Inspect): Fang Bai inspects, marks, and notes what needs repair, what to discard, etc. Step 3 (Disassemble): Take apart components according to the marks. Step 4: Repair. Step 5: Clean the TV. Step 6: Assemble. Step 7: Power-on test.

Each step had specific work content and requirements, cleaning standards, power-on test standards, and final acceptance criteria. Instead of each student doing all six steps, they now all did the first step together, then split up to handle one of steps 3 through 7, forming an assembly line. At the start, floor space was limited, and Fang Bai hadn't figured out the best methods for each step, so he hadn't set up an assembly line. In the last few days, he'd assigned people and tasks.

The assembly line had its downsides—if someone was missing from a station, it could slow down the whole line. But here, since the students were familiar with every step, anyone could fill in if a station was empty. Still, with only a small crew, he could only run one line; the extra two or three people kept working the old way. Even with just one line, productivity improved—each person could now consistently refurbish five TVs a day, turning out thirty to forty units daily. This batch of TVs would be done in seven or eight days.

That meant his wealth would grow faster. His next wealth target: one million yuan! If he hit that, his middle finger would level up again, and he'd have enough starting capital to speculate in subscription warrants.