Era: Rise from the Wilderness

"Young man, you...you mean 50,000?"

He subconsciously checked again, his voice trembling slightly, even tinged with self-doubt, "Didn't you get the unit wrong?"

"Is it fifty thousand, not five thousand?"

"Or...five hundred?"

He wondered if he was getting old and his hearing was failing, or if the young man had misspoke and confused the units of "thousand" and "ten thousand".

Not only him, but even Li Hongfeng, who had been sitting next to him and trying his best to remain silent and play the role of a silent companion, was completely stunned at this moment!

He turned his head sharply, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets, staring intently at his son, his gaze filled with disbelief, terror, and a silent scream of "Are you fucking crazy?!"

Fifty thousand copies?!

Li Hongfeng felt as if his heart had been squeezed hard by an invisible hand, suddenly stopping its beating, and then pounding wildly like a drum, making his eardrums buzz.

His vision even went black for a brief moment.

What does 50,000 copies mean?

Even if each lottery ticket is only the size of a cigarette box, 50,000 of them would still look like a small mountain!

The most crucial question is, how much money will this require?!

Two thousand five? Or more?

This kid didn't say he wanted to print this many!

He thought the maximum number of tickets he could get was only 10,000 or 18,000!

If things go wrong, all the lottery tickets will be stuck in your hands and you won't be able to sell them, or something will go wrong and all the money you invested will be wasted!

This is no joke!

This is practically gambling with your life!

He opened his mouth, his throat dry, wanting to say something and immediately stop his son's crazy behavior. But seeing his son's calm, confident, and seemingly in control demeanor, and considering that there was an outsider like Grandpa Liang present, he knew he couldn't air his dirty laundry in public, let alone undermine his son on the spot.

He could only swallow back the exclamation and question that were on the tip of his tongue with great difficulty, as if he had swallowed a piece of burning coal.

His hands, resting on his knees, clenched into fists unconsciously, his nails digging deep into his palms, causing a sharp pain that allowed him to barely maintain a semblance of calm.

His mind was in turmoil, like fifteen buckets of water being drawn up and down, or like sitting on a bumpy bread cart, but this time it was his internal organs and his entire mind that were being jolted.

"That's right, sir, it's fifty thousand, fifty thousand."

Li Yunjing spoke as calmly as if he were saying the weather was nice today, repeating it with certainty, his face showing not a trace of joking or uncertainty, "Our factory's anniversary celebration this year is on a particularly large scale, an open day event for tens of thousands of employees and their families, and we expect a very large number of participants."

"There are too few prize tickets; there simply aren't enough to go around, so they don't liven things up or encourage everyone to participate."

"The leader specifically instructed that it is better to print more than to print less."

Liang Yongshi gasped, the cold air seeping through his teeth and making him shudder.

He looked Li Yunjing up and down carefully again, as if trying to see through his ordinary clothes and slightly immature face to the "powerful" and "amazing" Sino-Japanese joint venture behind him.

He thought to himself: My goodness!

This is different from foreign-invested joint ventures!

They're really rich and powerful!

Such a large-scale factory anniversary celebration!

Fifty thousand color lottery tickets—the printing cost alone would be a huge sum!

It seems that the organization this young man works for is definitely not to be underestimated, far exceeding his expectations.

His initial contempt for the other party due to their youth completely vanished at that moment.

The person who can represent the factory to negotiate orders of this size, no matter how young they look, must be someone who is highly trusted and has outstanding abilities. They might even be a favorite of some leader!

The old man composed himself, forcing himself to calm down from the great shock. His expression became more solemn and serious, even showing a hint of the respect one would show when facing an important client.

He stood up, walked to the large, peeling desk, and took out a polished brass abacus from the drawer. The abacus had been polished to a shine, but its edges had been worn smooth.

The abacus beads are dark brown and shiny, indicating frequent use.

He placed the abacus flat on the table, and with practiced, almost ritualistic, hands returned the two rows of abacus beads to their original positions with a "clatter," producing a crisp and orderly sound.

Then, while reviewing the material and color requirements marked on Li Yunjing's draft, he muttered to himself, his voice low but clearly audible: "Hard cardboard... At this quantity, the cost is... Four-color printing, each additional color increases ink costs... Labor, machine wear and tear, electricity... With such a large quantity, paper wastage must be factored in..."

The room fell into an almost frozen silence.

The dim, yellowish light of the table lamp enveloped the three of them, and tiny dust particles floated in the air.

All that remained was the "clattering" sound of the old man's calloused and ink-stained fingers rapidly and precisely moving the brass abacus beads.

Li Hongfeng was so nervous he almost held his breath. His eyes were fixed on the old man's nimble fingers and the constantly changing beads on the abacus beam, each representing a different number of digits.

He felt his heart, which was hanging in his throat, pounding and trembling violently with each movement of the abacus beads.

Each crisp "crack" sound was like a small hammer, striking his heart heavily, making him panic and dizzy.

He could even clearly hear the throbbing of the veins in his temples.

Li Yunjing appeared much more composed, a stark contrast to his father's restlessness.

He picked up the glass of water on the table, which had long since gone cold, and slowly sipped it. The icy liquid slid down his throat, bringing a sense of clarity.

His gaze calmly fell on Liang Yongshi's focused profile, on the fluttering abacus beads, patiently awaiting the final result.

This composure beyond his years made Liang Yongshi, who was secretly observing him out of the corner of his eye, even more convinced that this young man was extraordinary.

Time passed slowly, seemingly stretched out in the simple office of the rural printing shop.

Mr. Liang Yongshi calculated with extreme care and meticulousness, not overlooking any detail that might affect the cost.

He would stop every now and then, pick up a pencil, and scribble on a crumpled brown paper notebook, calculating something, his brow sometimes furrowed and sometimes relaxed.

"Young man, I've calculated it carefully."

After about twenty minutes, the short yet long wait finally came to an end.

Liang Yongshi stopped what he was doing, raised his head, and even had a fine layer of sweat on his forehead.