Chapter 10

Chapter 11

In April, Zhang Xiaotong's parents left for Russia. They had no idea how much money Zhang Xiaotong had made; my eldest uncle's wife and my uncle had kept quiet under the threat of money. On the surface, a pastry shop could not possibly make very much. That was the limit of conventional thinking. Someone had once questioned how an arcade selling game tokens for a few mao apiece could bring in tens of thousands a month. Ultimately, they simply did not know the details. Anyone who had actually worked in that business would understand how it worked.

With malicious intent, I made my aunt and uncle figurehead shopkeepers: they could see the money coming in but learn nothing. Zhang Xiaotong only had to appear in the two shops a few times for everyone delivering supplies or trying to get friendly to realize that the real owner was someone else. I urged Zhang Xiaotong to secure another branch during the May holidays. Cutthroat competition would appear within three months, and we needed to shore up our defenses.

Over the course of a month, Zhang Xiaotong took sick leave twice, totaling four days, and sorted out the premises and renovations one by one. I did not forget to add fuel to the fire by giving her a novel manuscript. I had originally planned to write bold predictions about online games into the novel, but after careful consideration, I decided that involved too many trade secrets. There were far too many people better equipped than us to develop games at present. It was best to say less about those things.

Zhang Xiaotong did not disappoint my earnest hopes for her and promptly picked out a location for the second branch. While she found people to renovate it, I began worrying about staffing. From what I remembered, there were not many trustworthy people we could find at this point. Left with no choice, I had Zhang Xiaotong call Dong Qinghua and ask him to help find a suitable candidate.

"You want me to find someone? Aren't you afraid they'll embezzle all your money?" Dong Qinghua joked over the phone.

"If they can manage to pocket it, that just proves their ability. Uncle Dong, please help me..." Zhang Xiaotong wheedled over the phone, her voice giving me goosebumps. "I don't know anyone. You're the only capable person I know."

"Oh, already buttering people up at your age? Tell me, how much can you pay?"

Zhang Xiaotong pretended to think for a while before answering slowly, "Two thousand, I suppose. As long as they manage things properly, two thousand won't be a problem."

Dong Qinghua was startled. "Hey, that's more than my salary. Maybe I should run your shop instead."

"You're such a joker, Uncle Dong. How could I afford to hire you? If the Request Song Channel does well, you'll have to thank me at the end of the year."

The proposal Zhang Xiaotong had given Dong Qinghua would bring the station at least several million in additional revenue this year. Not even two months had passed, and countless companies had already called asking to place advertisements on the Request Song Channel. That was serious money. Although Dong Qinghua was very ambitious, he was a man who repaid favors. Once Zhang Xiaotong brought this up, he would have to help whether he wanted to or not.

Much as I had expected, Dong Qinghua fell silent for a moment, then asked, "When do you need someone?"

"After the long May Day holiday."

"All right, I'll see what I can do."

That settled the staffing issue. I could more or less guess whom Dong Qinghua would send to manage the shop, so I felt quite reassured on that front.

Now, whenever Zhang Xiaotong said she wanted to open a branch or do something else, no one in the family stepped forward to stop her. Facts made the best argument. In 1992, the wave of reform and opening up continued to deepen. Everyone was beginning to value money, but they had never thought about how to make it. The success of Zhang Xiaotong's business had undoubtedly spurred the relatives around her, though they had no idea just how well this seemingly insignificant business was doing.

The branch opened smoothly after the long May holiday. Yu Chunrong was the manager Dong Qinghua found for us. I had only met him in 2000. I had heard that he had spent years frustrated in his ambitions, but he was a very upright man. Following the principle of never placing particular trust in anyone, I still told Zhang Xiaotong to take every precaution. Someone who could remain upright in difficult circumstances might not necessarily keep it up once things improved.

As I had expected, specialty pastry shops under all sorts of names began appearing from mid-May onward. After all, there was no patent on this stuff; anyone could open one. I had Zhang Xiaotong begin preparing publicity for Children's Day on June 1. Dong Qinghua did us a real favor and produced a free special interview about Snow Fate's Children's Day event. Since Snow Fate's image had already become firmly established over the preceding months, the early competitors lost both the pricing and publicity battles. To be honest, I was not particularly afraid of price competition. After all, I intended to start diversifying immediately. If it was only a price war, our losses would not be great.

On Children's Day, followed by a camera the entire time, Zhang Xiaotong delivered cakes to five hundred children from severely impoverished families across the city. I sat at home alone, watching her stiff smile on television and taking pleasure in her discomfort. She could handle this sort of public appearance. I was just a clueless elementary school kid. Nobody had better give me trouble.

After that Children's Day show, Zhang Xiaotong had practically become the face of her own cake shops. I reckoned anyone would now find it difficult to threaten her business. The school and city bestowed countless titles on her, and she received endless praise on top of making money. I teased her, "When you write your memoirs many years from now, you have to write this: 'That year, the gears of fate began to turn slowly.'" Zhang Xiaotong giggled. "The gears of fate were a little stuck."

"Times are starting to change," I said reflectively, sitting high on the rooftop and watching the changes in the city. "Do you remember what all this in front of us looked like when I was three?"

"I do," Zhang Xiaotong said. "We've hardly ever left this city, so we're not very sensitive to these changes."

"Times have changed." I stretched and looked around the deserted rooftop. "In a few more years, what seems new now will all be gone like passing clouds. We have to make the most of our time."

Zhang Xiaotong frowned. "Aren't we doing that already?"

"We're still climbing uphill. This pace is already very good," I said, watching her long hair flutter in the wind. "There may be a lot of difficulties ahead. Let's work hard together."

"Don't you work harder than anyone?" Zhang Xiaotong smiled sweetly and gazed into the distance. "Because of you, I can't even imagine my own future anymore. Isn't that a good thing? Teachers are always telling us in class that our futures are limitless. In reality, we all know our futures only lie within a very narrow range. All those dreams and things are just like you said-carrots dangling in front of a donkey's mouth."

"Haven't you already realized you're not one of the donkeys?" I smiled. "That's how people break out, one step at a time, over and over, step by step."

"You really love lecturing people. I might as well call you my big brother." Zhang Xiaotong pouted. "Whatever progress I make, aren't I still just following in your venerable footsteps?"

"We're making progress together," I said. "It's an honor for me to improve alongside our nationally renowned young writer, Zhang Xiaotong."

"...You're insulting me!"

Only after Zhang Xiaotong had pinched me for quite a while did I get down to business. "It's not time to celebrate yet. We still have a few things to do. First, we need to hire more shop staff. As the weather warms up, open two outdoor pastry courts. Whether you hire performers or run publicity, the point is to make kids of middle school age and up think this is fashionable spending. You know we already have competition. If we don't act, we'll get squeezed out."

"Second, go over the current accounts again. There are still some pretty big loopholes. We can't let Aunt and Uncle pocket too much over the next six months. You need to show up often and keep them a little nervous."

"Third, I'm getting ready to graduate from elementary school soon. After that, I might not continue studying. I'm telling you in advance."

This time Zhang Xiaotong was genuinely shocked. "You're quitting school?"

"No, I plan to take a year off. I'll tell you why when the time comes."

Zhang Xiaotong wanted to say something, but after hesitating, she sighed instead. "What are you planning to do?"

"It's not about doing anything." I glanced into the distance, where a hazy mist hung between heaven and earth. It was actually dust. "I don't have a choice. Have you ever heard the saying that once you're out in the world, you're no longer your own master?"

"That sounds ridiculous coming from you."

Hearing the unfriendly edge in Zhang Xiaotong's voice, I could only explain further. "Put it this way: it's not that there are things I have to do. It's that there are things that have to happen."

Zhang Xiaotong did not know I was talking about my parents' divorce. She stared at me with wide eyes, and the worried look on her face made my heart tighten.

I opened my arms toward Zhang Xiaotong. "Xiaotong, give me a hug. The wind's a little cold up here."

Zhang Xiaotong held me in the wind. Her body trembled a little and was very warm.

July brought summer vacation again. Zhang Xiaotong ranked third in her grade, and I ranked first in mine. Once again, we cousins became a topic our relatives and neighbors discussed over and over. Following my idea, Zhang Xiaotong added outdoor stalls in front of all three shops, serving cold drinks and assorted freshly baked pastries. The response was not very good at first, but after a little over two weeks, the crowds gradually grew. First, the weather had turned hot. Second, people who enjoyed lively places and novel experiences always made up the majority. Of course, the most important thing was that more people had money to spare.

Once this move proved effective, Zhang Xiaotong began dropping by the shops every few days, keeping my aunt and uncle on edge and making them rein themselves in considerably. Zhang Xiaotong and I worked out the figures: between them, they had already pocketed almost twenty thousand. At this rate, they would embezzle 260,000 within a year for no reason at all. I had Zhang Xiaotong check the accounts carefully while hinting to them that if they did a good job, they would receive a sizable bonus after a full year. If they did not, we could consider replacing them.

Zhang Xiaotong did not attend the summer supplementary classes. Her teacher knew she had a lot to do and said little about it. These days, hardly anyone dared skip the school's supposedly voluntary extra classes. Students in this country had little standing or influence in those years, and no one cared to listen. The only time I had successfully escaped extra classes was when Guo Zhen got a few friends to pose as parents and make anonymous calls to the Municipal Education Bureau. That showed that Zhang Xiaotong could now be considered someone with real clout.

We talked as though running the shops was hands-off, but in reality, there were plenty of things to worry about. I had put Zhang Xiaotong through her paces, too. By now, she could basically run around and handle everything smoothly without me tagging along and getting involved. I joked with her, "Girls used to have children at fourteen. Your little bit of work isn't that hard, is it?" Zhang Xiaotong laughed and spat at me. "Get lost. You go have children..."

During summer vacation, under the grand pretext of learning from my older cousin, I spent all day glued to Zhang Xiaotong, which annoyed Zhou Xinglu considerably. He could not blame me for that. Even if I did not want to keep Zhang Xiaotong company, she would not stand for it. Besides, even if we brought Zhou Xinglu along, he would certainly have no idea what we were talking about. To quote Stephen Chow: why bother? Why put yourself through it?

At the end of July, I had Zhang Xiaotong accompany me on a trip to Sanhao Street, Shenyang. On March 15, 1992, Weiyong Building, the first high-rise on Sanhao Street, Shenyang, had been completed. It was a joint venture, with Northeastern University contributing the land and Singapore's WeChat providing the money. The total investment was reportedly around twelve million. By the time I arrived, most of the stalls in Weiyong Building had already been rented out. Zhang Xiaotong and I walked around upstairs and down. Business was poor, and prices were unremarkable. Considering that demand for computers among private businesses had not yet reached astonishing levels, I said to Zhang Xiaotong, "Can we rent a better shop here? I'm planning to become a distributor."

Zhang Xiaotong looked a little troubled. "Renting a place isn't a problem, but how would we actually run it? Neither of us can abandon our studies."

I smiled at her. "We just need to find someone with the right skills."

The Huanggu District Labor Market was packed with people. Although the staff found it a little strange that two children wanted to rent a recruitment booth, they readily processed the paperwork for us. I borrowed a writing brush and ink from the labor market office and, with a sweep of the brush, wrote, "Hiring computer specialists at high salaries. Compensation negotiable." The handwriting was ordinary, but coming from someone who still looked like an elementary school student, it was enough to draw murmurs of amazement from the people nearby.

We put up the sign and sat side by side on chairs, drinking water and chatting. Since I was still a little short, I looked ridiculous, like a head sprouting from the tabletop. Zhang Xiaotong shook with laughter at my clumsy internet jokes. Many university students with glasses as thick as bottle bottoms walked straight past us without so much as a glance.

After about half an hour, Zhang Xiaotong lowered her head, a little discouraged. "Nobody's coming."

"Don't rush," I said. "Look at them laughing at us now. We'll make them regret it in a while. Conventions are sometimes good things, but sometimes they aren't much help. They believe too much in themselves and don't believe in other people. We're better off not hiring people like that."

We sat there for a long time. After lunchtime, the sparse crowd once again grew into an impenetrable throng. I bought two boxed lunches and ate slowly with Zhang Xiaotong. Halfway through, I heard a voice ask, "Excuse me... are you Zhang Xiaotong?"

I looked up, and a piece of fatty meat fell from my mouth. A tall, thin young man stood before us, looking at us a little awkwardly.

When neither of us answered, the young man rubbed his head a little self-mockingly. "I must have mistaken you for someone else. Sorry..."

I reacted first. "All right, don't go. She is Zhang Xiaotong."

As soon as he heard that confirmation, the young man turned back and produced a notebook from his hand as if by magic. "It really is you! This is wonderful. Could you give me your autograph?"