Reborn in 1991, I opened supermarkets all over the world.

Back in the room, there was a math test paper by Lu Xiaoye in a prominent position on the desk.

58 points.

He looked up and awkwardly signed his father's name.

It seems that Lu Xiaoye signed it himself.

Lu Zifeng picked up the pen on the table and added a note under his father's name: "Already asleep, will call tomorrow."

Then, he climbed back into his bed, covered his lower abdomen with the blanket, and slowly unfolded Lin Siyan's letter.

Zifeng:

Hello there!

……

Upon seeing this title, Lu Zifeng felt a strange stirring in his heart.

I remember that when she first wrote to me, she addressed me as "Comrade Lu Zifeng," but later changed it to "Lu Zifeng." If I didn't reply for a long time, she would use the phrase "a literary fraudster who hates evil as if it were his enemy."

The content of the letter gradually became more carefree.

From polite greetings and inquiries about new poetic inspiration to the current empty talk about everything under the sun.

She said that the Literature and Art Department was becoming increasingly boring, and Tang Guo advised her to go to the Journalism Department to experience all aspects of life, which might give her new insights.

She said that Sun Shao-ping could have stayed home to make bricks, but he insisted on going out to suffer.

She said, "How far have you gotten in 'Stories of the Sahara'? Are you still on the title page, looking at my message, reluctant to turn the page?"

……

The letter was signed: Siyan, March 23, 1991.

After reading the letter, Lu Zifeng folded it along the original crease and stuffed it between the mattress and the bed frame.

Then he took out a stack of stationery, placed it on his bent knees, and wrote a reply to Lin Siyan.

He said that art without life experience is just nonsense.

He said that life is not just about the present hardships, but also about poetry and distant places. But when he got to those distant places, he found that there was no poetry there, only the hardships of life.

He said that "Stories of the Sahara" is far less valuable than a gift, and he has kept it hidden away.

……

Signed at the end: Lu Zifeng, March 25, 1991.

I put down my pen and turned off the light.

Let's think about Zhou Hai and his wife's situation.

Lu Zifeng's original plan was to sabotage Su Min's plan to buy the warehouse, and then talk to the grain station manager about a joint venture.

Directly renting it out is illegal, and selling it wouldn't benefit the grain station either—after all, the money has to be handed over to the treasury.

Joint ventures are a common way to skirt the rules in this era.

Currently, grain and oil prices are still under a dual-track pricing system.

Grain and oil within the plan could only be purchased with coupons, while those outside the plan were sold at market prices.

The so-called joint venture means that Lu Zifeng uses the grain station's warehouse to help sell some unplanned grain and oil products, and also runs some of his own business, while paying management fees to the grain station instead of rent.

The management fee is a direct income for the grain station and does not need to be handed over to the finance department.

As for the station manager, we can just give him a little more privately.

Once operations are stable, a loan can be secured from the bank using the cash flow, which will then allow the company to acquire ownership of the grain depot warehouse.

The warehouse of Dongxian Grain Station was the first fixed asset that Lu Zifeng planned to acquire, not only to leave an asset for Qiao Ling, but also as the first step for him to try to open a supermarket.

He will leverage this supermarket, with the county cooperative's supply as a safety net, to continuously develop new supplier channels.

Once the timing and model are right, the supermarket will be expanded to the main urban area of ​​Jiang City.

However, Su Min seemed determined to acquire that warehouse, and even went through the formal internal disclosure process.

From project initiation to evaluation, and then to approval from higher authorities, it takes about two months.

According to information Song Zheng obtained, Su Min offered 35,000 yuan for this 300-square-meter street-facing warehouse, not including the money she might have bribed the grain station manager privately.

In other words, Lu Zifeng would need to earn at least 50,000 yuan within two months to have a chance to acquire the warehouse.

If you want to run a supermarket, the cost of decoration, equipment, and stocking will easily exceed 100,000 yuan.

The next day, Lu Zifeng contacted Qin Deshou again.

"Are you really going to do this?" Qin Deshou was still somewhat hesitant.

He worked at Huihuang Garment Factory in Jiangping County for ten years, taking over his father's job. It was a legacy of two generations.

He can't accept finding another way to make money right now.

"Brother, the tide of the times is crashing in your face. Wasting even a minute is disrespectful to the market economy. Besides, I'm not asking you to quit your job, just to use your resources to earn some extra money."

"Okay, I'll get back to you as soon as possible, within a week at the latest."

"one day."

"One day isn't enough; at least three days."

"Alright, hurry up."

After hanging up the phone, Lu Zifeng went to Qiao Ling's grocery store.

Qiao Ling had already loaded the clothes onto the truck and prepared the racks and everything else, just waiting for Lu Zifeng to come and relieve her.

As Lu Zifeng failed to arrive, she grew anxious, fearing that the "trap" of the previous night might be detrimental to him.

Seeing him walk over with all four limbs intact, I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why are you so late? Where's Gu Quan? Didn't you ask him to help me push the cart?" Qiao Ling complained.

"Don't set up your stall today, just keep running your grocery store," Lu Zifeng said.

"Why? Did Su Min and her husband threaten you and prevent you from setting up your stall?" Qiao Ling asked tentatively.

"Don't worry, Su Min is fine." Lu Zifeng glanced around and asked, "Are there any gift boxes left for the Spring Festival?"

"Yes." Qiao Ling went straight into the inner room and took out a gift box: "These are extra gift boxes. I'll pack whatever you want to put in them."

Lu Zifeng picked out a bottle of "Luzhou Laojiao" and two bottles of Chongqing Cola from the counter, and also packed some white sugar, salt and the like.

As Qiao Ling lined the gift box with mugwort and gold silk, she asked, "Is this for Su Min?"

"Give it to her?" Lu Zifeng chuckled awkwardly.

Qiao Ling didn't ask any more questions.

If Lu Zifeng was willing to talk, he already has.

Carrying the gift box, Lu Zifeng went to the farmers' market and bought half a pound of tripe and a roast duck. He then boarded a bus bound for the city and got off at Baiguo Village.

Then, after turning a mile along a mountain road, we arrived at my second uncle's house.

Auntie was cutting pig feed on the hillside when she saw Lu Zifeng and the gift box he was carrying in the distance. She called out loudly, "Zifeng, you came alone?"

Lu Zifeng replied, "My dad needs to check out the repair shop, so he can't come."

Auntie came up to greet him with a smile and said, "You're here, why did you bring so many things for your second uncle?"

Lu Zifeng weighed the item in his hand: "Who said this was for Second Uncle?"

Auntie looked embarrassed.

"These are all specially for Second Aunt!"

"Oh dear, what you're saying..." Auntie patted Lu Zifeng on the back and burst into laughter.

"Hey, Zifeng, what's that thing on your back?" Auntie pointed to the small black bag Lu Zifeng was carrying on his shoulder and asked.

"This is a Seagull brand color camera; let me take a family photo for you."

Across half an acre of land, Auntie shouted at the top of her lungs towards the mud house opposite, "Lu Lao Er, start cooking! Your Zifeng is here to see you!"

Hearing this, Lu Lao Er poked his head into the main room: "Xiao Xun, go cook the rice. Zi Feng is here."

"Should we cook porridge or rice?" his cousin Lu Xiaoxun asked listlessly.

"Can't we cook porridge to entertain guests?" Lu Lao Er said irritably.

"Do you think I want to cook porridge? Go look in the rice bin yourself."

Lu Lao Er got up and went to the kitchen. He opened the rice jar, sighed, and said, "Peel a few sweet potatoes and cook them in."