Comrade Jiang Manyue carried the clothes she’d made the day before and followed her cousin Wang Baozhu to town.

“Sister, this is my stall!” 

Wang Baozhu pointed to a spot across from the supply and marketing cooperative. Both sides of the road were lined with vendors selling all sorts of goods.

It was 1983, no tall buildings here yet. The rows of uneven houses were steeped in the feel of the era.

She remembered that in just a few years, this place would turn into a bustling commercial street, especially thriving by the early 1990s. Many who had invested early had made a fortune.

Comrade Jiang Manyue opened her bundle, spread a clean cloth on the ground, and laid out the clothes she’d just made.

Wang Baozhu stared in shock at the pants. “Wow, sister, you made all these?”

“These are jeans?” She picked up a pair, eyes sparkling. “I’ve only seen these in the provincial capital.”

“Those Hong Kong movie stars wear them, and in the state-run stores, they’re super expensive.”

“No wonder you wanted that batch of denim from me. I can’t believe you actually made jeans.”

She had managed to make eight pairs from that batch of fabric, which made Wang Baozhu envious.

“Sister, you’re amazing! These look even better than the ones sold in state stores.”

Not only that, but the pants were the trendy flared-leg style.

Wang Baozhu had thought about sourcing them from the provincial capital, but they cost twenty yuan each—too steep for her.

She’d only bought that batch of fabric to have someone tailor a pair for herself, never imagining that Comrade Jiang Manyue could make them.

It was just past nine o’clock, on the weekend. The street was lively with people coming and going.

They looked like typical street vendors.

Comrade Jiang Manyue started hawking like she’d seen in TV dramas. “From the north to the south, don’t miss out as you pass by!”

“Come take a look at the trendiest jeans. Not twenty yuan a pair, just fifteen!”

“No tricks, no rip-offs—these are the same style as what Tony Leung wears!”

Her playful pitch drew a curious crowd.

To draw more business, she had Wang Baozhu put on a pair of jeans as a model.

Baozhu wasn’t particularly pretty, but at 168 cm tall, she looked like a natural model.

Soon, many young women gathered around. “Wow, are these really jeans?”

“They’re the same flared jeans Tony Leung wears! They look amazing.”

“I saw these in the provincial capital’s state-run store—they’re at least twenty yuan there.”

“Sister, you look so good in them. Do you have sizes for us?”

“We’ve got everything!” Comrade Jiang Manyue and Wang Baozhu responded in sync.

“Not just jeans—we’ve got white shirts too. That’s the real fashionable combo.”

“Flared jeans for fifteen yuan, shirts for just five yuan each.”

“Dress like this, and you’ll be the most stylish in town.”

The young women were thrilled. All eight pairs of jeans sold out quickly, along with the skirts and shirts Baozhu had stocked.

Several who missed out looked disappointed. “Sister, do you have more of these jeans?”

“Of course! I’ll have more ready to sell tomorrow.”

“Really? Great! Promise me I can be the first to buy tomorrow.”

Comrade Jiang Manyue counted her earnings—eight pairs of jeans brought in 120 yuan.

After subtracting the 50 yuan fabric cost, she had made 70 yuan overnight—more than her monthly salary from before.

“Sister, you’re incredible!” Wang Baozhu looked at her with pure admiration.

“Baozhu!” She handed all the money to her. “Take this and help me buy another batch of denim.”

Having lived again, Comrade Jiang Manyue hadn’t expected the clothing business to be so lucrative.

She’d found the key to wealth and wasn’t about to let it slip away.

At this rate, they’d soon be able to rent a shop across the street.

“Leave it to me!” Wang Baozhu patted her chest confidently. “I’ll get it done today!”

With business wrapped up early, Comrade Jiang Manyue visited the central hospital.

She hadn’t had the chance to check on the woman she’d rescued from the factory fire. Now that things had settled, she finally went.

She brought a bag of apples to the ward. The girl was much better, her spirit restored despite her cropped hair from the burns.

Her arm was still being treated, but at least her life wasn’t in danger.

When she saw Comrade Jiang Manyue, the girl looked surprised but recognized her immediately. “You’re the sister who saved me, aren’t you?”

“Hello, Comrade Qin Ran.” She smiled and nodded. “Seeing you safe puts my mind at ease.”

In her past life, because Bai Wanrou faked her death and escaped, this poor girl had died in that fire.

She’d been an innocent bystander caught up in the mess. Saving her this time felt like a form of redemption.

“The doctor says your burns aren’t extensive. You’ll be discharged in a few days.”

“Sister, just call me Ranran. If not for you, I’d be dead in that fire.”

Qin Ran was cheerful, dimples showing when she smiled.

Comrade Jiang Manyue couldn’t help liking her. “I’m Jiang Manyue. Ranran, do you have anyone here to take care of you?”

“I’ve called my big brother. He’ll be taking the train here tomorrow.”

“Oh right, sister!” Qin Ran grabbed her hand. “Could I trouble you to pick him up at the station?”

“I don’t know anyone here, and being stuck in the hospital, I can’t go.”

She handed over a photo. “This is my brother, Qin Zhenbei. He’s really handsome and a military officer too.”

Comrade Jiang Manyue took the photo—a man in his late twenties, dressed in an army uniform. His sharp, chiseled features and cold gaze looked familiar, though she couldn’t recall where she’d seen him before.

“Sister, don’t be intimidated. My brother looks fierce, but he’s soft-hearted.”

Seeing the girl’s pleading eyes, Comrade Jiang Manyue agreed. “Alright, I’ll pick him up tomorrow.”

Suddenly, Qin Ran’s smile faded. “Sister, I need to tell you—I saw someone set the fire that day.”

Her expression turned cold as she recalled the scene.

“I was in the break room waiting for my afternoon shift to register, and I saw a woman in a work uniform light a match in the warehouse.”

“I didn’t see her face clearly, but I knew it was a woman.”

She must have seen Bai Wanrou. The cotton warehouse went up in flames almost instantly.

Comrade Jiang Manyue listened carefully. “Ranran, you must report this to the factory leaders and the fire investigators.”

“I did. I’ve already called the director to report it.”

With the investigation underway, she’d like to see how Bai Wanrou planned to escape punishment in this life.