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Chapter 35
Zhang Huafeng and Jiang Weijun had been visiting He Hongyuan in his room, chatting idly, when they heard a message from the duty soldier at the entrance—Comrade Lin Xiang was looking for He Hongyuan. Without hesitation, He Hongyuan turned and went downstairs.
The two men exchanged knowing looks, clearly entertained. Dating really did make a difference—when had a female comrade ever come looking for someone at this hour? And yet, He Hongyuan had rushed off without a second thought.
A good while later, when He Hongyuan returned, he was carrying a gray bundle. Whatever was inside wasn’t large, just soft and slightly collapsed. Zhang Huafeng’s curiosity was piqued, and he quickly leaned in. “Old He, what’s that? Did Comrade Lin Xiang give it to you?”
For someone who had always kept his distance from others, He Hongyuan did something unexpected—he unwrapped the bundle himself, revealing a glimpse of a black shirt. Lifting his chin slightly, he said, “Mm. My partner gave me this.”
Such a simple statement, yet it made Zhang Huafeng feel an odd twinge of jealousy.
The next morning, a crisp black Dacron shirt hung neatly at the end of the corridor, swaying gently in the breeze. Compared to the surrounding cotton shirts, its structured cut stood out even more.
—
Lin Xiang was the type who couldn’t wait to wash and wear new clothes immediately. But she would never have thought He Hongyuan was the same. He was someone who seemed indifferent to most things in life, devoted only to his career.
So, the day after she gave him the black shirt, she didn’t expect to see He Hongyuan, dressed in it, arriving to pick her up after work.
He Hongyuan wore his military uniform year-round. Unlike other branches that typically wore olive green, the navy’s white uniform made them look even sharper and more refined.
But today, he was clad in black. The structured fabric outlined his broad shoulders and narrow waist, exuding strength and a deep sense of security. This color suited him perfectly, complementing his rebellious yet strikingly handsome features.
Lin Xiang blinked, her long lashes fluttering with surprise. “Comrade He Hongyuan, you look amazing in that shirt!”
Her admiration was genuine, straight from the heart.
But in He Hongyuan’s ears, the compliment made him slightly uncomfortable—he had never been praised for his looks before. Not that it mattered. He nodded steadily. “You have good taste.”
As they walked along the stone-paved path, Lin Xiang couldn’t hide her pride. “Of course I do! From now on, whether it’s buying fabric or clothes, I’ll handle it for you.”
She said it with confidence, intrigued by the idea of transforming a man who only ever wore military uniforms. But when the words reached He Hongyuan’s ears, they took on a different meaning.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips. His gaze softened as he watched her animated expression.
She wanted to pick out his clothes for a lifetime.
That realization put him in an exceptionally good mood. He pondered for a moment—perhaps it was time to dust off that marriage application sitting in his drawer.
—
As they arrived at the Zhou family home, Lin Xiang was stunned by the sight of a large basket full of lobsters.
Bright red and glistening, the lobsters looked like flames burning in the summer heat. Just their fresh, raw state was enough to make Lin Xiang’s mouth water as she imagined their spicy, savory aroma.
“Aunt Feng, where did these lobsters come from? Did you buy them from the seafood market?” Lin Xiang rarely saw lobsters these days—otherwise, she definitely would’ve bought a few pounds herself.
Feng Li, busy washing the lobsters, chuckled and tilted her chin toward He Hongyuan. “Your partner brought them.”
Lin Xiang followed her gaze and turned to look at the man beside her. Just as her eyes landed on his face, He Hongyuan spoke. “Ran into a fishing boat coming back today. The fishermen had a big haul, so I thought you should try some.”
A while back, Lin Xiang had claimed to have learned seafood preparation techniques from a food factory, using that as a cover for how a girl from an inland province could be so skilled at cooking seafood.
And what better summer meal than lobster?
Once the family finished cleaning them, Lin Xiang took charge of the cooking. As she manned the wok, she peeked out, spatula in hand, and gave He Hongyuan a task. “Comrade He Hongyuan, go pick a few coconuts. They’ll help cool down the spice from the lobsters!”
Zhou Shenghuai and Feng Li were heading upstairs to discuss a wedding gift for a comrade’s son. Just before they left, they witnessed their nephew obediently getting up and leaving. Moments later, he returned carrying five or six coconuts, carefully placing them on the table before heading to the kitchen to report back.
Before he could say a word, he was given another order.
Lin Xiang was craving something cold, so she had him chill the coconuts in cold water—at least that way, they’d have a bit of a cooling effect.
Zhou Shenghuai, as a brigade commander, had an allocated ice supply for the summer. Every day, just before noon, his orderly would deliver large blocks of ice, placing one in an enamel basin in the living room to bring a bit of relief from the heat.
Now, He Hongyuan casually tossed the coconuts into the ice-cold water, bending slightly as he did. The black shirt fit snugly around his lean waist, his movements steady and effortless. From the kitchen doorway, Lin Xiang’s eyes brightened as she watched.
She had never thought about it before, but now it suddenly struck her—could this fearless, battle-hardened commander actually have the potential to be a great husband at home?
A cool breeze stirred the fine strands of hair at her temples, snapping her back to reality.
What was she thinking?!
“Do you want to drink one now?” He Hongyuan turned around and asked Lin Xiang, his gaze briefly landing on her slightly dry, flushed lips due to the heat.
“I’ll have some first,” Lin Xiang licked her lips, feeling quite uncomfortable. “Pour it into the enamel cup after opening it so everyone can have some.”
After giving her instructions, she returned to the kitchen. He Hongyuan gripped the machete and swiftly chopped open the coconut. Holding it in one hand, he poured the cool, clear coconut water into the enamel cup before carrying it into the kitchen…
Zhou Shenghuai and Feng Li came downstairs from the second floor just in time to witness this scene. They exchanged glances, as if seeing He Hongyuan for the first time, their eyes filled with obvious surprise and amusement.
Zhou Shenghuai said in a deep voice, “Look at that, having a girlfriend really makes a difference. Hongyuan was never this obedient before.”
Feng Li laughed, “It also depends on who he’s with. No, all these years, so many women pursued Hongyuan, but he never got involved with anyone else. He only listens to Xiangxiang.”
Dinner that night was as fiery as the late August sky. A streak of sunset brushed across the horizon, spreading out like burning summer fireworks.
At the Zhou family’s dining table sat a large bowl of spicy crayfish.
The hard, fiery-red shells were peeled open to reveal the flavorful, spicy, and aromatic meat inside. At this time of year, most crayfish were wild-caught, blessed by nature, making the meat firm and sweet. Dipped in the rich, spicy sauce, it awakened the taste buds.
Beneath the mountain of crayfish, there was another hidden delight—Lin Xiang had specially asked Aunt Feng to hand-roll a pound of mixed-flour noodles. The noodles were cooked and then tossed in the crayfish sauce.
The pale yellow noodles gradually absorbed the vibrant red sauce, blending the wheat fragrance with the spicy, savory broth. Every bite was chewy and packed with layers of flavor. It was so delicious that the four of them quickly devoured everything.
Spicy crayfish was salty and intensely flavored, making people thirsty.
The coconuts He Hongyuan had picked became the perfect remedy, quenching both heat and spice. After the tongue was coated with the rich, salty-spicy flavors, a sip of chilled, sweet coconut water provided instant relief.
Lin Xiang drank an entire coconut’s worth of juice, feeling as if her stomach had turned round and full. The remaining coconut meat could still be scraped out and used for cooking—truly nothing went to waste.
After dinner, Zhou Shenghuai and He Hongyuan spent some time in the study. When they came out, both of them had slightly displeased expressions. Though they tried to hide it, the rest of the household still noticed something was off.
Lin Xiang had a good guess about what might have upset the uncle and nephew, but before she could say anything, their next-door neighbor, a military wife, arrived with canned seafood from the Shiwei Food Factory.
Yesterday, Lin Xiang had asked someone to buy these from the city. The Shiwei Food Factory was currently the biggest competitor of the 119 Food Factory. Their shrimp paste was rapidly gaining fame and seemed poised to challenge the long-established 119 brand. Along with the shrimp paste, the neighbor also brought two other popular Shiwei products—black bean fish and smoked fish.
The three cans were identical in size to 119’s, priced the same, making it a direct competition. Since the volume and cost were equal, the real competition lay in taste, brand reputation, and distribution channels.
After Zhou Shenghuai and Feng Li went out for a walk, and Zhou Yuezhou found an excuse to go on a date, only Lin Xiang and He Hongyuan remained at home.
He Hongyuan suppressed his lingering frustration and walked up to Lin Xiang, asking flatly, “Is this the brand you mentioned that’s selling faster than 119?”
Lin Xiang nodded. “Yes, I bought it to see how it tastes.”
For a brand to rise so quickly and take a share of 119’s market, it was clear that their shrimp paste had to be good.
She scooped a small spoonful into a bowl, dipped her chopsticks into the deep red paste, and brought it to her mouth. As soon as she tasted it, her eyes lit up—this was really good.
The shrimp paste was rich, savory, and packed with umami, so fresh it almost felt like being by the sea with the ocean breeze against her face. It would work well as a dipping sauce, paired with steamed buns or rice, or even as an ingredient for stir-frying.
“Try it,” Lin Xiang said, completely absorbed in analyzing the competition. She needed a second opinion and unthinkingly held her chopsticks up to He Hongyuan’s lips.
He sat down beside her, his gaze lowering briefly to the tip of the bamboo chopsticks, where the dark red shrimp paste clung. Without hesitation, he opened his mouth and tasted it, the intense umami spreading across his tongue.
Retracting her chopsticks, Lin Xiang immediately asked, “You’ve had 119’s shrimp paste before, right? How does this one compare?”
He Hongyuan pressed his lips together, letting the taste settle before saying, “It’s definitely good.”
Lin Xiang nodded. “Yeah, it is.”
Even as someone from the 119 Food Factory, she had to admit that Shiwei’s shrimp paste was impressive. The quality was solid, the flavor outstanding—no wonder it had carved out a space in the market so quickly.
But how had Shiwei suddenly become this formidable? Improving a recipe wasn’t something that happened overnight.
Deep in thought, she methodically repeated the same tasting process for the black bean fish and smoked fish cans. These were also quite tasty, but compared to the shrimp paste, they fell slightly short.
He Hongyuan wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about food, especially canned seafood. But whatever Lin Xiang asked, he answered truthfully, without holding anything back.
However, as she kept feeding him bites from the chopsticks, He Hongyuan found himself watching them move between them, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly.
Lin Xiang ate three or four bites of the shrimp paste from Shiwei Food Factory, continuously savoring the flavor, and soon noticed a key difference. Compared to 119 Food Factory’s shrimp paste, Shiwei’s version was noticeably saltier.
In the 1970s, salt was in short supply. Ordinary people were often reluctant to use too much salt when cooking, worried that their monthly ration wouldn’t last. As a result, they frequently ate bland meals with little seasoning. Shrimp paste, with its salty and umami-rich flavor, became a staple that complemented rice perfectly, making it highly popular.
119 Food Factory’s shrimp paste had a standard level of saltiness after fermentation, whereas Shiwei’s was one to two degrees saltier. Even when paired with steamed buns or rice, the difference was obvious.
Eating just a little provided a rich, satisfying taste, making it addictive—an excellent way to compensate for the widespread lack of oil and salt in daily meals. This was Shiwei’s competitive advantage: its intense flavor directly addressed the dietary challenges of the time.
However, there was also a drawback—eating too much left one feeling extremely thirsty, with a strong urge to drink water.
“You try it again—do you notice that after a few more bites, it makes your mouth dry?” Lin Xiang looked at He Hongyuan excitedly, eager to share her discovery. She dipped her chopsticks into the shrimp paste and brought them to his lips, only to suddenly realize something.
She had been using these chopsticks the whole time—eating multiple bites of canned shrimp paste herself before feeding him quite a bit as well.
They had been sharing the same chopsticks all along!
A flush of red spread across Lin Xiang’s fair cheeks. In an instant, she felt as if her lips and tongue were burning. When she looked up, her gaze met He Hongyuan’s sharp, phoenix-like eyes. As her eyes traveled downward, she caught sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly.
It was as if his body was physically proving her point—it did make one’s mouth dry.
Flustered, Lin Xiang quickly withdrew the chopsticks and muttered, “Shiwei’s shrimp paste does taste good, but it has its drawbacks—it makes you even thirstier.”
He Hongyuan’s deep gaze remained fixed on her as he slowly leaned in closer. “You’re absolutely right.”
His words confirmed her thoughts, but his tone was completely absentminded. It was clear he wasn’t interested in discussing shrimp paste—whether from Shiwei or 119.
Lin Xiang could feel him moving closer and closer. The setting sun cast a warm glow behind him, his shadow blocking the dim light. His presence enveloped her, carrying a crisp, pine-like scent.
His thick, curled eyelashes trembled slightly. Lin Xiang’s eyes landed on his throat, where his Adam’s apple protruded sharply, rolling slightly as he tilted his head toward her.
Ever since they started dating, Lin Xiang had known this moment would come. She had already experienced He Hongyuan’s lips brushing against her cheek—soft and gentle, completely at odds with his cold and tough exterior.
But—
Just as their lips were about to touch, a sudden thought flashed through Lin Xiang’s mind. Without hesitation, she pushed He Hongyuan away.
Caught off guard, he stumbled back slightly, his lips pressed into a thin line, his phoenix eyes flashing with surprise.
Then, in a soft murmur, Lin Xiang whispered, “No! We just ate shrimp paste!”
There was no way her first kiss was going to taste like shrimp paste!
That would be such an unromantic memory!
Her face burned, turning as red as the fading sunset. Even her voice seemed to soften, melting into a warm, syrupy tone that left He Hongyuan feeling both amused and helpless. His chest tightened, as if his heart had been caught in a gentle but persistent grip—sweet, sour, and just a little painful.
He chuckled softly and leaned in once more. This time, he simply rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing lightly. Looking down at her long, fluttering lashes, he rasped in a low voice, “Then I suppose I’ll have to collect some interest?”
Lin Xiang blinked in surprise, as if silently asking—What kind of interest?
A moment later, a shadow fell over her, and instinctively, she closed her eyes.
A soft kiss landed on her eyelid, fleeting and feather-light.
His lips barely grazed her lashes, leaving behind a gentle tickling sensation that spread all the way to her heart.
—
The next day at work, Lin Xiang brought the Shiwei shrimp paste to Factory No. 2 and had her three colleagues in the office taste it.
Even though they were loyal to their own factory, Director Zhao, Ma Defa, and Kong Zhenzhen couldn’t deny the truth—the shrimp paste was delicious.
The three of them fell into deep thought. Kong Zhenzhen voiced her concern, “Are we really going to lose to Shiwei?”
Director Zhao refused to let morale slip and tried to boost their spirits. “No way! Their shrimp paste is good, but so is ours. Besides, we’re the established brand! Everyone recognizes 119! Who doesn’t know our reputation?”
Ma Defa quickly chimed in, “Exactly! Especially in other provinces—who’s even heard of Shiwei?”
Lin Xiang knew they were trying to reassure themselves. But there was no denying that Shiwei had made a strong entrance into the market. Not only was their product impressively flavorful, but their packaging was refined, and they were investing heavily in advertising and sales distribution.
That morning, Director Zhao had even heard news that Shiwei was trying to negotiate partnerships with municipal government offices. Their goal was to replace 119 shrimp paste at official dining halls and banquet tables—or at the very least, secure a presence alongside it.
119 had a long-established reputation. With years of history and a solid public image, it had become a staple in government-run hospitality venues and formal gatherings. This exposure only reinforced its brand recognition.
People tended to trust what the government endorsed. If the officials approved it, then surely, it had to be a high-quality product.
Over time, this trust had built 119 into the market leader. But now, Shiwei was making an aggressive move to challenge that dominance.
If Shiwei’s shrimp paste really manages to improve its flavor and gain a foothold in government institutions and department stores, it will pose a serious challenge to 119’s shrimp paste.
But that wasn’t something the workers at Factory No. 2 could control.
As a branch responsible for handling leftover materials from 119 Food Factory, Factory No. 2 had always been overlooked. Now, with strong competition emerging, Director Zhao, the head of Factory No. 2, wasn’t even allowed to attend the emergency meeting held at Factory No. 1.
He returned, fuming, and gulped down a mouthful of tea. “They don’t even think I’m worth inviting. Not even as an observer! As if I’d be so desperate to go.”
Earlier, when he tried to enter the meeting room, the always-proud head of the shrimp paste workshop at Factory No. 1 had stopped him at the door, frowning. “Zhao Jianjun, we’re discussing serious business here. Factory No. 2 has no place in this.”
What kind of attitude was that? Even if Factory No. 2 wasn’t very useful, what harm would it do to let him listen in?
Frustrated but powerless, Zhao Jianjun drank several more sips of water to calm himself down.
Putting down her knitting, Kong Zhenzhen chimed in, “Who do they think they are looking down on? Maybe we could come up with some ideas to help.”
Ma Defa agreed. “Exactly. At a time like this, the more brains working on a solution, the better. Everyone should be brainstorming ways to deal with Shiwei’s shrimp paste, not shutting people out.”
Zhao Jianjun eventually sighed and waved his hand. “Forget it. No one would listen to us anyway. What really worries me is our wages—if shrimp paste sales keep dropping, Factory No. 1’s monthly bonuses are as good as gone! And our subsidies will probably shrink too. Ugh, that means we’ll be losing a few bucks every month. Just thinking about it makes my heart ache.”
Lin Xiang had been deep in thought, but now she spoke up. “Director Zhao, we should try to come up with a plan.”
Zhao Jianjun looked confused. “What plan? We don’t even produce shrimp paste.”
Factory No. 2 had nothing to do with shrimp paste production. Even at Factory No. 1, other departments couldn’t interfere with the shrimp paste workshop—it was the factory’s star product, the main source of profit. The workers there had always walked around with an air of superiority, looking down on the rest of the factory.
In terms of hierarchy, Factory No. 2 was at the bottom, followed by the other workshops in Factory No. 1, while the shrimp paste workshop sat firmly at the top.
“There’s no way they’d listen to us.”
Lin Xiang smiled. “Then let’s focus on what we do produce—our soda. If shrimp paste sales really start affecting wages, we need to find a way to make up for the losses. Can we change our soda packaging?”
Everyone in the office looked puzzled. “Change the packaging?”
At Factory No. 1, making even the smallest adjustments—whether to a product’s flavor or its packaging—required multiple meetings, rounds of discussion, and layers of approval. Even a minor change could take ten days, half a month, or even longer to get approved.
But Factory No. 2 was different. It had been left to fend for itself, and most workers just went through the motions. Their only real boss was Zhao Jianjun, who was easygoing and flexible.
Now, he pointed at a line Lin Xiang had written down, looking perplexed. “You want to add this to the soda packaging?”
Lin Xiang nodded. “Yes.”
Ma Defa and Kong Zhenzhen leaned in for a look and were equally puzzled. “What’s the point of that?”
Lin Xiang explained her reasoning, but judging by their doubtful expressions, she could tell they weren’t fully convinced. Smiling, she urged, “We might as well try it. At this point, we’ve got nothing to lose. The real question is whether Director Zhao has the authority to approve this change.”
Zhao Jianjun had just been snubbed by Factory No. 1, denied a seat at their emergency meeting. Now, he slammed his hand on the table and made a decisive call. “We’re doing it!”
Nobody cared about Factory No. 2 anyway—so why not?
Factory No. 2’s sodas, like most in the country, came in glass bottles with labels wrapped around the middle, displaying the brand name and flavor. The factory produced two main flavors: orange soda and pear soda. But 119’s sodas weren’t particularly special—their sales were just average, barely meeting production quotas.
At the end of August, a small change was made to the 119 soda packaging. Some people didn’t even notice, but those with sharp eyes caught the difference.
The printing staff at Factory No. 1 didn’t think much of it. For the past half-month, everyone had been preoccupied with the crisis surrounding Shiwei’s shrimp paste. Who had time to worry about a minor factory like No. 2?
Zhao Jianjun had gone ahead and changed the soda packaging before filing a report with the deputy factory director. In the end, he was just scolded for “wasting time on trivial matters.”
The move didn’t cause much of a stir at Factory No. 1. At most, workers grumbled that Factory No. 2 wasn’t standing united with them against Shiwei. Right now, the shrimp paste battle was at its peak, and everyone at Factory No. 1 was laser-focused on fighting back, afraid their wages and bonuses would take a hit. Meanwhile, Factory No. 2 was worrying about… soda packaging?
Soda couldn’t possibly compare to shrimp paste! What a joke!
But despite all the complaints, the change had been made. Now, at the bottom of the soda’s orange label—wrapped around each glass bottle in bold letters—it read:
“Refreshing and sweet—119 Soda is the perfect pairing with shrimp paste.”
Bottles of soda were lined up neatly on the shelves.
By mid-September, bad news kept coming from 119 Food Factory. Shimei Food Factory continued to seize a larger share of the shrimp paste market in major department stores. The number of orders 119 received dropped again, and even worse, some provincial and municipal government units had begun reducing their orders, switching to Shimei’s shrimp paste instead.
As 119’s flagship shrimp paste product lost its market share, the sales of other seafood canned goods also suffered. Factory No. 1 was hit hard, and the workers knew their wages and bonuses would soon decrease. Worry was written all over their faces.
The factory director and deputy director of 119 Food Factory convened another emergency meeting to discuss countermeasures with department heads, but no immediate solution emerged.
That was until Sales Section Chief Yang nervously reported the continued decline in shrimp paste and seafood orders—before hesitantly adding another piece of information.
“Director Huang, Deputy Director Li, about Factory No. 2’s soda—”
The leadership had no patience for Factory No. 2 matters at a time like this. “Is this really the time to talk about Factory No. 2?”
Gritting his teeth, Chief Yang pressed on. “Director Huang, Deputy Director Li, this is a big deal!”
The leadership frowned. “What happened?”
Chief Yang blurted out excitedly, “Factory No. 2’s soda orders have suddenly surged!”
A collective gasp filled the meeting room. How was it possible that, in the midst of 119 Food Factory being battered by Shimei, Factory No. 2’s soda sales were rising against the tide?
“What exactly is going on?” Director Huang demanded.
Chief Yang gave a detailed report. “Our soda from Factory No. 2 has suddenly started selling like crazy. Many department stores are requesting larger shipments, and even several provincial and municipal government units want to work with us. In the past, we could never get our soda into government supply chains because they preferred premium brands like Beibingyang Soda. But now, they’re reaching out to us.”
“What did Factory No. 2 do to the soda?” The leadership was dumbfounded. No one had ever taken Factory No. 2 seriously. “How could it suddenly sell so well?”
Chief Yang explained, “They changed the packaging half a month ago, adding a single line of text that says our soda is the perfect pairing for shrimp paste. Since Shimei’s shrimp paste is selling like crazy, people started buying our soda along with it. Apparently, eating shrimp paste makes your mouth feel salty, and drinking soda helps wash it down. Word spread fast—now people everywhere are saying, ‘119 Soda is the best match for shrimp paste.’ Even three-year-olds know it. Those government units from other provinces heard about it too and came knocking on our door.”
The leadership of Factory No. 1 was shaken. Could adding a single sentence to the packaging really have this much impact?
Director Huang asked, “Was this Factory No. 2’s doing?”
Chief Yang nodded. “Yes, it was an idea from a young female worker assigned to Factory No. 2 this year—her name is Lin Xiang.”
…
Meanwhile, at the Factory No. 2 office, Director Zhao was holding this month’s stack of order requests, clicking his tongue in amazement. He rubbed his nearly bald head, glanced at Lin Xiang, and suddenly burst into loud laughter.
Standing beside him, Ma Defa and Kong Zhenzhen were equally astonished. They stared at Lin Xiang in disbelief, barely able to look away, making her struggle to hold back a smile.
“You, you!” Kong Zhenzhen stepped forward and grabbed Lin Xiang’s arm. “I can’t believe how amazing you are! What a waste for you to be stuck here in Factory No. 2!”
Director Zhao immediately refuted that. “Nonsense! Factory No. 2 needs talent like this!”
Knock, knock, knock!
Just as Director Zhao finished speaking, the voice of the Factory No. 1 director’s secretary came from the doorway. “Director Zhao, is Comrade Lin Xiang here? The factory has called a meeting, and she’s requested to attend.”
Director Zhao’s face hardened instantly. He shouted back, “She’s not here!”
Trying to poach his people, huh? Hmph!