I couldn't take it anymore; when I went home for Chinese New Year, the family genealogy book ha

The three old men in the meeting room were still arguing.

Jiang Chen leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers absently on the table. As the three people cited Yan Zhenqing, Wang Xizhi, Lao Ganma (a famous Chinese medicine practitioner), and Qin Shi Huang as examples, he felt as if a fly was buzzing around in his head.

Su Qing sat by the window, head down, scribbling on the paper without uttering a sound.

"Alright." Jiang Chen raised his hand, interrupting the three of them. "Talk is useless. Whoever has the ability, show us what you can do."

Second Uncle Jiang Jianmin stood tall.

"No problem!"

He slammed his phone on the table, made a call, said a couple of words, and hung up.

"I had a sample made overnight, and I've had it delivered now. You just wait and see!"

Jiang Jianwen sneered, closed his folding fan, slowly took something out of his pocket, placed it on the table, covered it with a handkerchief, and didn't let anyone see it.

"I have one too."

Not to be outdone, Jiang Qiming slammed his cloth bag on the table, unzipped it, and revealed a stack of red paper and a bottle of glue inside.

The three of them just stared at each other, none of them willing to make a move first.

After waiting for about twenty minutes, I heard the sound of a motorcycle at the door.

A young man ran in carrying a paper bag and handed it to his second uncle, panting.

"Uncle, it's finished! The craftsman said the packaging is the best!"

The second uncle took it, took something out of the bag, placed it in the middle of the table, then stepped back two steps, crossed his arms, raised his chin, and waited for everyone to appreciate it.

Jiang Chen looked down.

Good guy.

The glass bottle was completely wrapped in gold foil, from the bottom to the cap, without a single gap. It glittered and shone brightly.

If you didn't know it contained strawberry jam, at first glance it would look like a gold brick.

Uncle patted his chest proudly.

"See that? That's what you call class! Put it on the shelf, and which business owner wouldn't be dazzled? It's the kind of product that brings in wealth and prosperity!" He pointed at the bottle, getting more and more excited as he spoke. "When customers see it, they think, 'Wow, this is so luxurious!' Giving this as a gift will definitely impress them!"

"Give it away?" Su Qing looked up from the window, glanced at the bottle, and then looked down again.

"Who are we giving it to? The local earth god temple?"

Uncle's expression froze.

Jiang Chen couldn't help but cover his face with the back of his hand to suppress his laughter.

Seeing that the time was right, Jiang Jianwen lifted the handkerchief and revealed his treasure.

It was a dusty, earthenware jar with a round belly and a narrow mouth. There were no decorations on the outside, except for three characters written in calligraphy on the jar: "Jiang's Sauce".

Next to the earthenware pot was a piece of Xuan paper, on which a passage of text was written in dense detail, about the origin of strawberries, the season for picking, and the ancient process, a lengthy three hundred words.

Jiang Jianwen cleared his throat and introduced himself with a rather smug look.

"Yours are called 'Golden Bricks,' and mine are called 'Qin Bricks and Han Tiles.' The earthenware pots are authentically fired in a wood-fired kiln, and there's a sheet of Xuan paper inside with an instruction manual. When customers open the lid, they first read the text, then smell the aroma. That's called a sense of sophistication, that's called cultural premium, understand?"

Jiang Chen picked up the earthenware pot, turned it over, and looked at it from all angles.

"Uncle Scholar".

"Um?"

"This isn't strawberry jam you're selling."

Jiang Chen put the earthenware jar back and said with a serious face, "Anyone who didn't know better would think we just dug up an urn of ashes from a rocky wasteland."

Jiang Jianwen: "..."

He took a deep breath, picked up the folding fan, put it down, and picked it up again.

"You child, you don't know how to appreciate things."

"I admire it." Jiang Chen nodded. "I admire that once this thing is on the shelf, I guarantee no one will dare to buy it."

It was Jiang Qiming's turn.

He pulled a stack of bright red paper from his cloth bag. The paper was printed with several large characters, the handwriting crooked and obviously written by himself.

"You will succeed in the exam!"

Then he took out a small bottle of glue from his pocket and, in front of everyone, neatly pasted the red paper onto a strawberry jam jar, patted it, and pushed it towards the center of the table.

"Look, this is it!" Jiang Qiming pressed his hands on the table, utterly certain. "Sticking this on makes it a sauce blessed by the God of Literature! Parents buying this for their children's exam preparation aren't just buying sauce; they're buying good luck, they're buying a token of their affection!"

There was a three-second silence in the conference room.

Jiang Chen stared at the strawberry jam jar with the red paper that read "Success in the Exam" for a long time.

"Teacher Jiang."

"Um?"

"If we sell this product and the child fails their exam, will the parents ask us for a refund?"

Jiang Qiming: "..."

"That...that's metaphysics, it has nothing to do with us—"

"It's alright?" Uncle Er chimed in, pointing at Jiang Qiming, "You're selling yourself under someone else's name. If the child doesn't get into university, who else will the parents go to if not you?"

"I was just saying it was for good luck—"

"Good luck? That's false advertising, you know?"

"Who made false advertising? I never said I guaranteed you'd pass—"

"If you didn't guarantee it, why did you put up a 'Victory Guaranteed' sign?!"

The three of them started arguing again.

Second Uncle pushed the gold brick sample forward, Jiang Jianwen pushed the earthenware pot to the side, and Jiang Qiming blocked the red paper in the middle. The three items were back and forth on the table, as if they were fighting.

The meeting room was in complete chaos.

Just then, a voice rang out from the doorway.

"Yo."

Wang Dagou poked his head in at some point. He tilted his head, glanced at the three items on the table, and muttered something under his breath.

"What's going on? Has our village factory switched to selling ghost money and burial goods?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the entire conference room fell silent.

Then, the three old men turned to look at Wang Dagou at the same time.

Those gazes, they're all there.

"What did you say?!"

Second Uncle was the first to jump up, pointing at Wang Dagou, his face turning bright red.

"You brat! Do you even know what aesthetics are?!"

Jiang Jianwen slammed the folding fan on the table and stood up as well.

"You ignorant brat! I won't even mention the gold bricks, but what right do you have to comment on my Qin and Han dynasty bricks and tiles?!"

Jiang Qiming gathered up the stack of red papers and spoke with righteous indignation.

"Ignorant and incompetent!"

The three of them walked toward the door together. Wang Dagou was startled and turned to run away. His footsteps made a series of loud clattering sounds in the corridor.

"Don't run! Stop right there!"

"I just said it offhand!"

"Just saying it offhand? Explain yourself! What do you mean by 'burial goods'?!"

The sounds of chasing gradually faded into the distance.

Su Qing put down her pen, looked up at the empty door, and laughed so hard she couldn't stand up straight.

Jiang Chen slammed his hand on the table; the sound wasn't loud, but it was crisp enough.

"Alright!"

The corridor was silent for two seconds.

The three of them slunk back. Uncle's collar was askew, Jiang Jianwen had two strands of hair disheveled, and the top button of Jiang Qiming's white shirt was undone at some point.

"sit down."

Jiang Chen pointed to the chair.

The three people sat down, exchanged glances, and no one spoke.

Jiang Chen pushed the three "samples" on the table aside one by one.

"This product is meant to be sold to young people," he said. "What do young people look at first when buying something these days? The appearance. What do they look at second? The story behind it."

He paused, then scanned them one by one.

"If young people see what you're doing, they might call the police."

My second uncle wanted to speak, but his lips moved without making a sound.

Jiang Jianwen held the folding fan tightly in his hand, but didn't wave it.

Jiang Qiming pressed the stack of red paper under his knees so that no one could see it.

Jiang Chen turned his gaze to the window and landed on the piece of paper next to Su Qing.

Su Qing started drawing on that piece of paper the moment she entered the room, and now she doesn't even know what she drew.

"Miss Su."

Su Qing looked up, still holding a pen in her hand.

"You've been drawing for most of the day," Jiang Chen said. "Want to show us what you've got?"