Chapter 69: All Banquets Must Come to an End

On June 3rd, the listing of twenty new stocks ignited a frenzy in the black market for subscription warrants. No matter where you went, this was the topic on everyone’s lips.

The alley remained the same, and so did the old man who frequented it. Monkey had gone off to the black market to play cards with Old Master Zhang and his friends—a gesture of gratitude for the considerable help they’d received. Although they were about to leave Zhonghai, this connection was too valuable to lose.

When Chai Jin and Fang Yi arrived at the old man’s place, he had already prepared a lavish spread. Curiously, the table was lined with bottles of Xiao Li Bai, a small-batch baijiu.

After they were seated, the old man picked up a bottle, deftly twisting off the cap as he spoke. “Try this new liquor—it’s from Jiangnan Province. It’s as smooth as any high-end spirit, but without the headache or harsh alcohol taste. There’s even a lingering sweetness after you drink it.”

Chai Jin smiled. “Oh? Is it really that good?”

“Of course,” said the old man earnestly. “Let me tell you, Xiao Chai, these bottles weren’t easy to get. A friend from Jiangnan Province brought them over for me. It’s a real pity, though—the distillery isn’t selling in Zhonghai yet. If they did, I bet it would be a hit! The flavor is on par with the finest liquors, but the price is the same as any ordinary bottle. And look at this packaging—just look at it! Even an old fellow like me can’t help but take a sip or two.”

The old man was a true connoisseur, and his admiration for this liquor was unabashed.

The Daoxiang Distillery had yet to open up distribution in Zhonghai, mainly due to overwhelming demand and limited production capacity. But with so many workers from Jiangnan Province now returned to Zhonghai after the holidays, their luggage was packed with bottles of Xiao Li Bai to share with friends at gatherings. Before long, without spending a cent on advertising, Daoxiang had built a solid reputation in the city.

Chai Jin listened, then burst into laughter. “It’s excellent liquor. The head distiller’s ancestors were imperial brewmasters, and they still insist on traditional methods. How could it not surpass most of what’s out there?”

The old man slapped his forehead. “My memory’s failing me—I forgot you’re from Jiangnan, Xiao Chai. Do you know anyone at the distillery?”

Chai Jin set down his bottle, satisfaction in his eyes. “I know quite a few people there. Why do you ask?”

The old man was suddenly energized. “Could you pull some strings for me? Help me get a supply of this Xiao Li Bai. I won’t sell it to just anyone—there’s a bunch of old-timers who can’t stop thinking about it after just one taste. We’ll keep it for ourselves. Ordinary folks like us being able to enjoy something as good as Wuliangye for just a few yuan—who wouldn’t crave that?”

Chai Jin instinctively glanced at the small shop nearby. After a moment’s thought, he asked, “How long have you been running your store?”

The old man chuckled, holding up a finger. “Ten years. Used to be easy money, but not anymore. The people here have all left, and there aren’t any newcomers.” The location wasn’t ideal, and with the area booming thanks to the trading center, several large supermarkets had sprung up, siphoning off most of his business. That’s the trouble with running a small shop—even in the heart of a big city, if the spot isn’t right, your business will struggle. It was a source of constant frustration.

Chai Jin fell silent for a moment before saying, “What if you could wholesale Xiao Li Bai? Or even make your store a distribution center for it? Do you think business would pick up?”

The old man’s eyes lit up with excitement. “If I could get a steady supply, I’d close the shop tomorrow. My son’s about to graduate—I’d take him and go into wholesaling full time. This is the kind of drink we Zhonghai folks would love.”

Fang Yi, who had been silent, suddenly spoke. “Jin, if you can make this connection, why not help the old man out? I’ve met his son—a very driven young man.”

The old man looked at Chai Jin, a wave of emotion welling up in him. “Xiao Chai, do you really know people at the distillery?”

Chai Jin laughed. “Didn’t I just say so? Let me make a call.”

He reached for the large phone on the table and dialed the factory. As soon as someone picked up, he said, “This is Chai Jin. Soon, an old gentleman from Zhonghai will be contacting you. The East China market hasn’t officially opened yet, but there’s strong demand here. Set up a limited wholesale point for now.”

A young woman from the marketing department answered and quickly jotted down the old man’s name and number.

After he hung up, Fang Yi and the old man stared at Chai Jin in astonishment. Chai Jin raised his bottle. “Let’s drink. What are you looking at me for?”

The old man was the first to recover. “You must have quite a connection with the distillery.”

“Nothing special,” Chai Jin replied. “If you’re from Jiangnan, you’re bound to know someone at a distillery sooner or later. Let’s drink.”

Chai Jin changed the subject, and the conversation soon turned to their impending departure from Zhonghai. Perhaps tipsy from the drink, the old man fell silent, his nose tinged with emotion, before launching into a stream of advice and well-wishes—the kind only someone who’s lived through the hardships of being a stranger in a foreign city can give. Meeting a warm-hearted soul like this old man was truly rare.

The gathering lasted until past ten, when they finally parted ways.

After Chai Jin and Fang Yi left, the old man picked up the number for the distillery’s marketing department that Chai Jin had left behind. With the factory now running three shifts, the phone was always manned. When someone answered with “Daoxiang Distillery,” the old man introduced himself. “Miss, my name is Li Danian, from Zhonghai…”

“Oh, Uncle Li! Our boss just called to register you—you’re the one who wants to be a wholesale distributor, right?”

“Yes, yes. Wait—what did you just say? Your boss called? What’s your boss’s name?”

“Our boss is Chai Jin. Uncle, you mean you didn’t know you were talking to our boss?”

“I—!” The old man was dumbfounded. “That Xiao Chai—he hides his true abilities well!”

Standing at the mouth of the empty alley, the old man couldn’t help but marvel. What he didn’t know was that, in just a few short months, Chai Jin had swept over a hundred million yuan in cold, hard cash out of Zhonghai—without a single mention in the newspapers. That’s the mark of a true master of capital.

The next day, Chai Jin spent the day at Cai Weiqiang’s store and even sat at Old Master Zhang’s card table. When it came to favors, to win money from someone you owed was to ignore the rules of courtesy—so he deliberately lost more than twenty thousand yuan to the old men.