Rebirth 1990: The beginning is sweet and cool Bai Yueguang

As she wiped his body, she counted the seven new bloodstains on his ribs, her fingertips hovering above the corner of his swollen mouth, but she was hesitant to touch it.

When Zhou Qi got into bed with the aroma of fried fish wrapped in the morning mist, he jumped out of bed with his hair in a mess and ran into a figure busy in front of the stove.

Lin Ruixue tied a floral handkerchief into a fluffy bow, and there were oil spots on the ends of her hair.

"Does the injury still hurt?"

"My iron body..."

Zhou Qi suddenly pointed at his lips with a grin: "Right here, it hurts so badly!"

"Let me take a look!" Lin Ruixue trotted forward.

Zhou Qi took advantage of the situation and put his arms around her slender waist, and pecked her hard on the lips: "Isn't it strange that it doesn't hurt right after the kiss. How about you give me another treatment?"

"Stop it, the baby is about to wake up."

Lin Ruixue pushed him away with a red face: "Can we wait until tonight?"

"Morning exercise is refreshing!" Zhou Qi raised his eyebrows with a wicked smile.

"I...I have to prepare breakfast!" Lin Ruixue hurriedly turned and walked towards the kerosene stove.

"Okay, let's discuss this tonight."

Zhou Qi looked at his wife's back and suddenly said seriously: "It would be better if you just stay at home to take care of the baby. It's not like I can't afford to raise him."

Lin Ruixue paused as she held the spatula in her hand: "I'm going to go crazy in less than half a month if I'm stuck in this pigeon cage of about 20 square meters all day long."

Twenty-two years old is the age when people love to be lively. Who would be willing to be bound by the daily necessities of life?

In the director's office of Tanggou Winery, Zhou Kang was looking at the box of "Prosperity World" on his desk.

His son Zhou Weixing sat beside him with his legs crossed: "Isn't this eye-catching?"

"Who designed the pattern?" Zhou Kang stroked the uneven patterns on the wine box.

"It's the guy named Zhou Qi. I heard he used to be a worker at Shen Bing Winery. He bought out his years of service and started working on his own."

Zhou Weixing took out a cigarette and lit it up: "This wine is selling very well now."

Zhou Kang leaned back in his boss chair and asked: "Which of these old wineries in Suqian is a vegetarian?"

"Don't underestimate people."

Zhou Weixing flicked the ash off his cigarette. "In the past half month alone, they have taken away at least 20% of the market. Each bottle is priced at 1.5 yuan..."

"Who would I sell it to at such a high price? Would ordinary people be willing to afford it?" Zhou Kang blew away the tea foam and took a sip.

"What you thought was impossible has now become true."

Zhou Weixing unpacked the box neatly.

Twelve bottles of wine are neatly arranged, and the "One Punch Man" cartoon image on each bottle is eye-catching.

Zhou Kang's teacup stopped in mid-air: "Is this...really going to sell well?"

Zhou Weixing threw the purchase order from the supply and marketing cooperative on his desk and said, "Zhou Qi, that kid, has the guts to sell wine for 1.5 yuan if he changes his skin!"

He pointed at the numbers on the report and said, "Look at this. It's only been 30 days since we opened, and the sales have already reached 2 million!"

The enamelware pot in Zhou Kang's hand slammed against the glass plate with a bang, and the tea spilled on the newspaper on the corner of the table.

He pulled at his collar and coughed violently, his Adam's apple rolling up and down as if a fishbone was stuck in his throat.

"Do you think this is storytelling?"

The old factory manager blushed and slammed the table: "Our factory's annual turnover barely exceeds one million, how can a middleman like him sell two million a month?"

"Please do the math!"

Zhou Weixing grabbed the abacus and started clacking at it: "He takes 80 cents from each bottle, while the same quality wine in our factory only costs 15 cents..."

The sound of beads colliding was suddenly mixed with the roar of a wine truck outside the window.

The old-fashioned ceiling fan was whirring overhead, and Zhou Kang was staring at the production model award on the wall. His son took the opportunity to lean in and whisper:

"If you're willing to approve it, I can change the label of our fine wine to 'Peerless Elegance' and sell it at 50 cents, and still make a fortune!"

"Nonsense!"

Zhou Kang pushed open the window abruptly, and the August heat wave rushed in with the smell of wine lees: "You can treat a government-owned factory as your private property?"

Having said that, he caught a glimpse of Xiao Zhang from the Finance Department riding his newly bought Phoenix bicycle home from get off work. The chrome handlebars were dazzling in the setting sun.

Zhou Weixing suddenly locked the office door and lowered his voice: "If Zhou Qi can do OEM at Shenbing Winery, why can't we create a new brand in our own factory?"

He took out a bottle of Shen Bing Daqu from the drawer: "Try it. What's the difference between this and our base wine that has been stored in the cellar for three years?"

The old factory manager unscrewed the bottle cap and took a deep breath, then suddenly picked up the phone: "Hello, ** workshop? Find the Dunhuang flying fairy pattern in stock!"

My hands were still shaking when I hung up the call, and the family photo under the glass was soaked with sweat at the corners.

As the dusk deepened, Zhou Weixing gestured on the wall in the dark: "Gold-stamp the trademark, emboss the bottle, and ask old man Zhu to write 'Peerless Grace'..."

The moonlight shone through the window lattice, creating a dividing line between light and dark on his face. "When we make enough money, we'll go to Switzerland to see the snow-capped mountains. I heard that the bank safes there are bigger than our factory warehouses!"

Zhou Kang suddenly grabbed the thermos and drank it down, with the wolfberries floating in the tea.

He recalled that last month when he went to the provincial capital for a meeting, the counter of Shengshi Tianxia in the department store was crowded with customers holding overseas remittance coupons, while his own wine was still piled in the corner of the supply and marketing cooperative, gathering dust.

There was half an inch of ash in the ashtray, and Zhou Kang's hands, holding the iron rice bowl, were shaking.

Zhou Weixing slammed the enamel pot on the desk with a clang: "Dad, smell the aroma of this wine!"

He opened the box of Shengshi Tianxia's wine. "Shenbing Daqu, five years old, sells for 1.5 yuan. The same quality in our factory only sells for 1.5 yuan!"

The old factory manager's nostrils twitched, and the amber wine created ripples in the glass.

He suddenly tilted his head back and took a big gulp, swallowing the spicy taste with his Adam's apple rolling: "But the charge of speculation..."

"Zhou Qi can sell cold water at the price of Maotai, so why should we be afraid of making money with our real ability?"

Zhou Weixing took out the purchase order from the supply and marketing cooperative and slapped it on the table: "Look at this month's sales. The Chengxi Supply and Marketing Cooperative alone ordered 5,000 boxes!"

The sound of cicadas outside the window suddenly became piercing, and Zhou Kang stared at the banner on the wall that read "Advanced Enterprise" in a daze.

The son took the opportunity to lean closer and whispered: "Let's lower the price to 1.2 yuan, and make a net profit of 80 cents per bottle. At this rate..."

He scratched out a string of zeros on the account book: "By the end of the year, it will be bigger than the new office building of the machinery factory!"

"But the design of this trademark..."

Before the old factory director finished speaking, Zhou Weixing had already opened the poster of Shengshi Tianxia.

A portrait of a martial arts star monk was circled in red:

"Let's ask Old Man Zhu to copy the painting and add a layer of gold border! I've even thought of a name, 'Peerless Grace', which has two more strokes than 'Prosperous World'!"

The wine bottle reflected colorful spots in the sunlight, and Zhou Kang stroked the raised prints on the bottle with his fingertips.

He suddenly picked up the phone: "Hello, is this the Propaganda Department? Find all the Dunhuang Flying Apsaras patterns in stock!"

When I hung up, the microphone was still buzzing and the pendulum of the old-fashioned clock was shaking, making me feel uneasy.

The ashtray was full of cigarette butts, and Zhou Kang was scratching his head while staring at the scribbles on the draft paper.

Zhou Weixing slammed the enamel pot on the table and said, "Dad, you intellectuals are always nagging. If you want me to name it, I'll just call it 'Drunken Bull'!"

"Go! Go! Go!"

Old Zhou was writing and drawing on the table with tea in his hand: "How about 'Peerless Grace'? Although it can't compare to 'Prosperous World' in terms of style, it's not much worse, right?"

"Wonderful!"

Zhou Weixing slapped his thigh with joy: "After all, he went to high school!"