Courtyard House: A Prosperous and Joyful Life

Good books are never stopped being updated, waiting for you to appreciate them.

More and more people gathered, and even the construction team dropped what they were doing and came over.

Wang Jun had no choice but to step forward and say, "I'm planning to open a garment factory. Everyone, please stop crowding around and disperse."

As soon as he finished speaking, the gazes around him instantly changed. Everyone else was still earning a meager monthly salary of a few dozen yuan, while he was already planning to open a factory. His momentum clearly indicated that he was destined for great success. In an instant, Wang Jun became the most admired person in the courtyard, and even greetings were warm and enthusiastic.

Wang Jun wasn't in the mood for further conversation and turned back to his house to open the letter. Those in the courtyard, however, didn't disperse; instead, they gathered even closer, chattering amongst themselves.

"Jun is such a promising kid!"

"That's right, the business is growing bigger and bigger."

"Running a factory for a year can easily earn you tens of thousands of yuan. How can you possibly spend all that money?"

"I think it's more than that, maybe even over a hundred thousand."

At this moment, Uncle San, Yan Bugui, strolled out, shaking his head and saying, "What do you know about business? The factory manager's annual salary is already 24,000 yuan. He earns hundreds of thousands a year on his own."

"Hundreds of thousands?!" Everyone gasped. This was an astronomical figure; they couldn't save that much even if they worked their whole lives.

Someone suddenly asked, "When you open a factory, you need to hire workers, right? Can we go work there?"

Upon hearing this question, their eyes lit up. The seven or eight young wives and aunties in the courtyard, who had no work and were stuck at home every day, had long been looking forward to going to the factory.

"I know tailoring, please let the army take me in!"

"I want to go too!"

Count me in!

Finding a job these days is tough. Men can work on construction sites, but women are mostly stuck at home taking care of the kids. Getting a factory job is practically a dream come true.

Then someone asked, "How much is the salary?"

"The factory manager earns two thousand a month, so the workers must earn at least thirty."

"Thirty is too much, twenty is about right."

"It would be good if there were 20 privately owned factories."

"Fifteen is fine too, it can buy more than ten catties of pork!"

Yu Li, standing outside the crowd, was stunned. She had never imagined that Wang Jun's business was so big that he would actually open a factory.

"He's not even eighteen yet, is he?"

"Seventeen! That's skill, that's what a man is!"

Yu Li's heart was in turmoil. The more she thought about it, the more incompetent her husband Yan Jiecheng seemed. She couldn't help but glare at him: "Look at other people, they started a factory at seventeen, and you're thirty or forty and still have nothing!"

Yan Jiecheng's face fell. It was that same old story again. Comparisons are the thief of joy.

On the other side, when Banggeng returned home from get off work and heard the news, he was stunned: "Impossible! He has no capital and no equipment!"

Several older women immediately surrounded them, teasing them: "Didn't you say you were the most successful? Others have opened factories, when are you going to open one?"

"I told you Wang Jun was amazing a few days ago, but you didn't believe me. Now you do, right?"

"Come on, open a factory for us to see!"

Each sentence was more hurtful than the last, and Bang Geng's face turned ashen. He quickly slipped back into the house to hide.

Inside the room, Wang Jun untied the rope of the burlap sack, and letters were scattered all over the table with a clatter.

There were too many letters to read them all, so he decided to pick one that was reasonably acceptable and use it first. As he flipped through them, he discovered the applicants' educational backgrounds varied considerably, ranging from junior high and high school graduates to even college graduates. Back in the 1980s, college graduates were considered the cream of the crop, guaranteed entry into management positions or senior technician roles upon graduation. He hadn't expected them to write in to apply for jobs. A thought struck Wang Jun: it seemed that a monthly salary of two thousand yuan could really entice people.

What surprised him even more was that many of the women there were quite well-educated. He muttered to himself: "So many girls are vying to be the factory manager, is it just so they can wear pretty clothes?"

"Tsk, so many talented people were hidden in the 1980s." Wang Jun held the letter, increasingly impressed as he read. Although the country's overall cultural level wasn't high, there were always hidden gems among more than a billion people. He mainly wanted to find someone with management experience; academic qualifications were secondary. But in the 1980s, people with management experience were more valuable than college graduates. These people were mostly leaders in state-owned factories, living stable lives, so why would they easily resign?

As he was flipping through the pages, a letter made him stop. The letter was from Lü Guangrong, 43 years old, with a high school education. He had been the manager of a state-owned garment factory and was quite capable. Unfortunately, he was fired because his wife gave birth to three daughters in a row, violating the one-child policy.

"He's been a factory manager? That's rare." Wang Jun stroked his chin. "I'll meet him tomorrow, and if it's a good fit, we'll finalize the deal."

He was quite satisfied with Lü Guangrong's resume; to have secured the position of factory manager in a garment factory, he must be quite capable. However, whether he was truly suitable remained to be seen. The letter mentioned that Lü Guangrong's home was in the suburbs of Beijing, just a two-mile walk by bus.

Outside a dilapidated house on the outskirts of the city, Lü Guangrong was chopping firewood with a large axe.

When he became the director of a state-owned garment factory at the age of thirty-five, he was incredibly successful, holding a prestigious position and walking with an air of authority. His biggest worry, however, was not having a son. His wife had given birth to three daughters in a row, and he longed to carry on the family line, but to no avail. Unwilling to accept this, he continued trying, determined to have a son.

The one-child policy wasn't strictly enforced until 1982. Initially, many people didn't take it seriously and continued to have children as they pleased. The old saying "many hands make light work" was deeply ingrained in the 1970s and 80s; having two children was considered low, most families had three or four, and some rural families even had more than ten. In 1949, the national population was just over 500 million, but by 1984 it had exceeded one billion, an increase of 500 million in thirty years, demonstrating the frenzy surrounding childbirth. In rural areas, the belief that "many children bring good fortune" was even stronger. Not having children would result in being scolded by elders, and not having a son meant "extinction of the family line," leading to being scorned by the entire village. Lu Guangrong's desire to have a son was perfectly normal.

After chopping the firewood, Lü Guangrong plopped down on the log, his face scrunched up. "Sigh, the New Year is just over ten days away, and I don't even have a single yuan in my pocket. It's hard to even buy some meat. This life..."

He wanted to borrow from relatives, but they were all from the countryside, each one poorer than the last, and he dared not ask. His daughters were emaciated and starving; they needed some nutrition. Having no other choice, he had to ask his wife to borrow; otherwise, they wouldn't be able to have a peaceful New Year.

You have received a new chapter update: "Chapter 17 Good News, the Courtyard is a Sensation!", read the link below.

Lu Guangrong sighed silently, his axe handle turning white from gripping it so tightly.

Following the address on the letter, Wang Jun found a tiled house where a middle-aged man with a worried expression was sitting, sighing in silence.

He stepped forward and asked, "Comrade, is this Lü Guangrong's house?"

"Yes, that's me." Lü Guangrong looked up. "Did you need something from me?"

"My name is Wang Jun. A few days ago, I broadcast an advertisement on the radio looking for a clothing factory manager. I received your letter. Take a look, is this the letter you wrote?" Wang Jun took out the letter and handed it over.

Lu Guangrong immediately understood: it was a boss coming to interview him! Becoming a factory manager meant a monthly salary of two thousand, eating meat whenever he wanted, dining out without hesitation, and never having to worry about money again. If he missed this opportunity, he would regret it for the rest of his life! He immediately tensed up, his voice trembling: "Yes, I wrote it. I'm currently out of work and need to find a job to support my family."

"You worked in the state-owned garment factory for six years, do you have proof? I'd like to see it."

"Yes! No problem!" Lü Guangrong quickly went inside and brought out a stack of documents. Wang Jun flipped through them; six years as factory director, excellent work, and several awards. Clearly, this man was truly capable.

After asking a few more questions, Lü Guangrong answered them all fluently. Wang Jun was quite satisfied and made the decision: "Comrade Lü, from today onwards, you are the factory manager of the garment factory. Your monthly salary is two thousand, and you can get a raise and bonuses if you do a good job."

Lu Guangrong's tense body relaxed instantly, and a smile bloomed on his face, as if he were dreaming! He said earnestly, "Thank you for trusting me, boss. I'll definitely work my hardest!"

After signing the contract and giving a few instructions, Wang Jun took out fifty yuan and handed it over: "It's almost Chinese New Year, take this and buy some New Year's goods."

Lu Guangrong's hands trembled, and tears almost welled up in his eyes. He was now destitute, his family was barely scraping by, and this fifty yuan was a lifesaver. It would allow his family to have a good New Year, and his children could finally enjoy a hearty meal of meat! He hurriedly expressed his gratitude: "Thank you, boss! I'll go and get the paperwork done today, and the factory will be up and running after the New Year!"

After Wang Jun left, Lü Guangrong was so happy he jumped for joy, his heart brimming with joy.

Just then, his wife returned from outside with their daughters. Seeing him spinning around, she screamed in fright, "Old Lu! What's wrong with you? Don't scare me!"

"I'm not crazy!" Lü Guangrong grinned, "I found a job, two thousand a month! I won't have to worry about money anymore!"

His wife panicked even more. A monthly salary of two thousand? What kind of good deal is that? Has he really gone mad?! She grabbed his arm: "Where do you feel unwell? I'll take you to the hospital!"

"Why go to that hospital!" Lu Guangrong glared. "I'm perfectly fine! Don't believe me? Look at the contract!" He handed over the paper.

His wife took it, glanced at it, and her eyes widened in disbelief: "My God! Is it really two thousand? It can't be fake, can it?"

"You old hag!" Lü Guangrong slapped his thigh. "Would a big boss like him cheat poor people like us? Besides, he even gave us fifty yuan for the New Year. He's obviously a rich guy!"

His wife thought about it and realized she was right. They were dirt poor; scammers wouldn't bother with them. Anyone who could afford fifty yuan for the New Year couldn't possibly be a con artist. She quickly said, "Old Lu, the boss treats you so well, you have to work hard!"

"Of course!" Lü Guangrong patted his chest. "I'm sticking with this boss for the rest of my life!"

Wang Jun returned to the vicinity of Tongluo Lane and found a hotel to check in. The courtyard house was undergoing renovations, and everything inside and out had been moved out, so he had no choice but to stay there for the time being. He would oversee the renovations in the courtyard during the day and come to stay at night. The room had an ensuite bathroom and included breakfast. Although the room rate of six yuan a day wasn't cheap, it was convenient.

He was thinking to himself: He needed to focus all his energy on the garment factory from now on; he couldn't worry about the radios for the time being, and making money would depend on the antennas. He needed to expand the scale, find more people to assemble them, and sell more antennas. Right now, Guo Hongbing and his team could assemble three or four hundred a day, but Wang Jun felt it was still too slow; they couldn't keep up with demand. He figured he had to at least assemble a thousand a day, so he could earn tens of thousands of yuan a day.

Back in the courtyard house, Wang Jun cleared his throat and called out, "Neighbors, I have some news to share, come and listen!"

Upon hearing the news, the aunties, older women, and young wives in the courtyard immediately perked up and swarmed around. "What news?" "Junzi, is it good news?" "Tell us quickly!" Several older women asked eagerly, and before Wang Jun could even speak, they were all talking at once.

Wang Jun glanced around; everyone who could come, except for those who were at work, was there, even the children—there were thirty or forty people in total. He said bluntly, "Starting tomorrow, I'm going to increase antenna production. Anyone willing to help me assemble them will get 80 cents per antenna; the more you work, the more you earn!"

Before the words had even finished, the courtyard erupted in excitement, everyone rubbing their hands together. "Junzi, is it true?" "You're not kidding us, are you?" "Eighty cents for an antenna? Did I hear that right?" "Good heavens, installing ten a day would be eight dollars, two hundred and forty a month!" "This...this is too much money!" "Junzi, say it again, it was too noisy and I didn't hear you!" Several older women murmured, insisting that Wang Jun repeat himself.

Wang Jun had no choice but to explain it again. This time, all the women in the courtyard understood. This was a great opportunity to make money; the faster they were, the more they could earn. Those who were quick and efficient could potentially earn two or three hundred yuan a month! Two or three hundred yuan a month, that's two or three thousand yuan a year—more than ten times better than working a regular job!

"Great!" "Junzi, I want to install antennas!" "Me too!" "I want to do it right now!" The women in the courtyard had shining eyes, eager to get started. Several young wives crowded around Wang Jun, grabbing his hands and urging, "Junzi, teach us quickly!"

Wang Jun hadn't expected everyone to be so enthusiastic, so he quickly calmed them down: "Don't rush, we don't have enough materials right now, so we can't let everyone get started. Besides, assembly requires skills, and I have to teach you first, otherwise the assembled products will be junk and we won't be able to sell them."

These words calmed everyone down a bit, but their excitement remained, and they all chimed in, saying, "Junzi, you should teach us right away!" "We still have plenty of time today, so teach us first!" "I want to learn!" The thought of making money made the aunties, young women, and housewives in the courtyard restless, and even a few uncles who were idle at home joined in the fun, wanting to learn the trade.

Wang Jun waved his hand dismissively: "Alright, I'll teach you now. Come here, everyone, watch carefully!"

The crowd immediately gathered, finding good spots to watch. Several young wives even stood next to Wang Jun, afraid of missing a single step. "Uh...so close." Wang Jun was a little overwhelmed, but since everyone was watching, he couldn't push them away, so he quickly demonstrated and began teaching how to assemble it.