Chapter 30: The Leader (1)

Evening fell. The six children returned to the opera school.

Chen Qi had accompanied them for a portion of the journey. At the entrance, he shook hands with the teacher and bid farewell, saying, "You've really worked hard today. On behalf of all the educated youth at the Dashilan Cooperative, I thank you!"

"Don't mention it. The children gained valuable experience; it was all very worthwhile."

The teacher paused before asking, "So, do you still need us tomorrow?"

"The report should be in the papers tomorrow. We'll see how the public reacts. If the response is good, I'll have to trouble you again. If this becomes a long-term arrangement, we certainly won't let you work for nothing."

"Very well, see you then!"

The teacher understood his intent and raised no objections, leading the students into the courtyard.

Liu Bei felt no fatigue at all. She had performed once in the morning and once in the afternoon, with a break at midday, feeling no pressure whatsoever. She returned to the eight-person dormitory in high spirits. Her friends swarmed around her, chattering away:

"How was it today? Was it fun?"

"What did you all do?"

"Was the lunch any good?"

"Quiet! Quiet! Listen to me!"

Liu Bei pressed her hands down, asserting her authority in the dormitory. "Under the Qianmen Arrow Tower, there were so many people—maybe a thousand or more! Every time we sang a little bit, they cheered, and the applause sounded like thunder. It was exhilarating! Later, they wouldn't let us leave; we were almost crushed, and the teacher had to risk everything to pull us out. Lunch was alright. They cooked it themselves—basically canteen food, cabbage and radish, but enough to fill you up. And we didn't even have to pay for our own travel."

"Wow!" The girls sighed in unison, filled with longing.

Liu Bei rolled her eyes mischievously before revealing the biggest piece of news: "Hey, guess who I saw today?"

"Who? Who?"

"A foreign guest!"

"There were foreign guests there?"

"Of course! A woman, blonde hair, blue eyes, speaking some bird-tongue language I couldn't understand. I sang a piece for her, and she even told me 'Good, good!'"

"Wow!!!!"

If envy could be weaponized, Liu Bei would have been stabbed to death by a thousand knives. The group of girls chattered on until the teacher came to check the rooms and they finally lay down. Lying on her humble bed, Liu Bei savored the wonderful day, wishing only that every day could be just as thrilling. Those older brothers and sisters were so warm, and they even gave her eggs to eat. Plus, Brother Chen was quite handsome.

***

*China Youth Daily.*

It was already eight o'clock, and Yu Jiajia was still waiting at the newspaper office for news.

Since the draft involved a foreigner, it had to undergo a special review; it could only be published once the relevant departments approved it. The current attitude toward foreigners was quite contradictory: there was a desire for them to come and see, yet the lingering bloodline of revolutionary struggle against American imperialism remained. They were both welcomed and viewed with suspicion.

In a few years, when foreign capital entered on a large scale and the entire nation began to look toward the Western world, the country would need foreign exchange for development. The common people would believe the moon was rounder in foreign lands, the elite would start to emigrate, and public intellectuals would emerge.

*Reader*, *Yilin*, *Zhiyin*, and *Youth Digest*—the four great classics of the Reform and Opening-up era—would run wild!

***

This wave had been brewing for 40 years!

"Why is there still no news? It couldn't have been killed, could it?"

"I should have known better than to listen to that guy!" Yu Jiajia muttered to herself.

This draft could be approached from many angles. The one Chen Qi had suggested was: American friends experiencing old Beijing traditions, gathering with educated youth and young actors, listening to Peking Opera, drinking tea from large bowls, and offering endless praise—very good...

Forget the common people; even the leadership loved reading that!

"Little Yu? Little Yu!"

"I'm here! I'm here!"

Suddenly, an old reporter ran in. Yu Jiajia jumped to her feet. "How is it? Did it pass?"

"It passed!"

"You have no idea who it reached. The leadership read it and couldn't stop praising it. They gave it their personal stamp of approval—it’s on the front page tomorrow!"

"Gasp!" Yu Jiajia took a sharp breath. "The front page?"

"That's right. You've really done it this time; no young reporter in this unit has ever made the front page before!"

"It's all thanks to the teachers' guidance."

Yu Jiajia suddenly felt an immense rush of satisfaction, and at the same time, a realization dawned on her: Oh, so *this* is what they call journalism!

***

"Yesterday, the renowned Qianmen Large-Bowl Tea Cooperative invited a group of young actors from the Municipal Opera School... The young actors delivered a brilliant performance, drawing cheers from the surrounding crowd and even welcoming an unexpected American guest.

"Eve, full of interest in Chinese folk culture, listened to a segment of Peking Opera on the spot and personally tasted the large-bowl tea. This traditional Eastern beverage provided her with a truly novel experience.

"Finally, Eve took special photos to commemorate the occasion before leaving with great reluctance..."

At the opera school, the director and teachers read the article three times before reluctantly putting the newspaper down. Reporter Yu was alright—she said she’d get it published, and she did, right on the front page. Although the content about their school was a bit sparse, there was an international friend involved, so it was understandable.

"Excellent!"

"I think this activity should continue. It brings honor to our school and provides the students with opportunities to hone their skills. Go, take the students over there immediately!"

"We didn't say we were performing today, though?"

"Strike while the iron is hot, don't you understand? Be more proactive!"

***

West of the Qianmen Arrow Tower.

This was a newly opened tea stall, run by 20 people.

They were also educated youth. The cooperative had started late, and not knowing what to do, they had seen the success of the Large-Bowl Tea and decided to imitate it.

They had been open for several days, and business was decent. Passersby on this street came from either the east or the west, and since there was nothing special about the tea itself, they just drank at whichever stall they saw first.

But today was a little different.

"Comrade, would you like some tea? Two cents a bowl!"

A passerby came from the west, passed by the tea stall, and glanced at it for a moment, hesitating. The educated youth hurried to greet him: "Ours is jasmine tea, too, and it’s very clean. You’d have to walk quite a few more steps to get over there!"

"..."

The passerby didn't respond and kept walking. The youth followed him with his eyes and saw that, sure enough, he headed to the shop on the east side.

"Comrade, would you like some tea?"

"Comrade, have a bowl of tea!"

People passed by one after another, but not a single one stopped. One person, pestered to the point of annoyance, said, "They have opera to watch, what do you have? They have foreigners coming to drink, what do you have?"

Of course, they had nothing.

The group was despondent. Dozens of large bowls sat on the table, yet not a single one had been sold.

"We haven't made a single sale today. What are we going to do?"

"We haven't earned a single cent!"

"They’re really bustling over there. That Huang Zhanying is truly capable to have come up with so many tricks!"

The group was filled with jealousy and envy. Listening to the high-pitched singing and the thunderous applause from the other side, they felt an itch to go and take a look themselves.

***

"Bravo!"

"Bravo!"

It was the same six, including Liu Bei, and they were performing even more energetically today.

Since everyone was watching the opera for free, they naturally bought bowls of tea to drink. With their throats parched from cheering, they needed the tea even more... At the stalls in the back, pots of tea were being boiled one after another, but they still couldn't keep up.

This wasn't just large-bowl tea.

This was the Mixue Bingcheng of 1979!

"I can't take it anymore, I'm exhausted!"

Even a sturdy person like Huang Zhanying was feeling the strain. "I think we need to buy a few more large teapots, get fifty more bowls, and some big vats, or we won't be able to keep up at all."

"Let's buy a few more tables and open a new stall on the side. We should also put out sandals for sale. How is the business on the west side?"

"Desolate as a bird's nest!" Huang Zhanying used an idiom. "Let them learn. It serves them right! They're finally getting a taste of hardship."

"Hey, keep a broad mind. There are so many tea stalls in Beijing now; there's really no helping it. It's not easy for anyone."

The strong never complain about the environment, because they are the ones who ruin it!

Chen Qi never engaged in business wars; he only kept a broad mind. "Listen to me, and keep this to yourself. Their business will only get worse. When they can no longer keep it up, they might come to you on their own, asking you to take over. If they don't, you go to them and say you're short-handed and willing to absorb new people. Then, set your conditions: demand that the government provide a business location—the bigger, the better. At the same time, expand the scope of operations so we can sell more goods."

"Huh?"

"Huh what? Do you want to be a street vendor your whole life? By then, we won't just be a tea stall; we'll be a comprehensive department store."