Chapter Ninety-Nine: The Joining of a Fierce Warrior

"May your business flourish, Tiger, and may wealth pour in from all directions," Chen Huajiang said with a cheerful smile, raising his glass and ignoring Black Tiger’s earlier words.

Black Tiger caught on to the change of subject and, with a hearty laugh, clinked glasses with Chen Huajiang. "Then I’ll borrow your good wishes, Brother Chen!"

After that, Chen Huajiang paid no more mind to Black Tiger’s affairs—he could already foresee how things would end for him. Making money wasn’t the problem; eventually, it would all return to small profits and quick turnover. Whether Black Tiger would accept that was another matter.

On the fourth day after Black Tiger opened his shop, Chen Huajiang received good news.

That day, he was busy in his own store, preparing a batch of chicken legs for Ermao to pick up. Ermao had been extremely busy lately. As Black Tiger’s underling, he naturally had to help out, running errands and handling tasks.

"Boss, someone’s here to see you," Wei Lanhua called from the doorway. She had recently become a full-time worker, now putting in even more effort, and she exuded a confidence quite different than when she first arrived—the way she spoke was louder, her smile much brighter.

"Who is it?" Chen Huajiang asked casually.

"He says his name is Hao Jianguo."

At her words, Chen Huajiang’s demeanor changed instantly. He ran out, excitement written all over his face.

At the entrance, Hao Jianguo paced back and forth, anxiety twisting his heart. Just days ago, he had refused Chen Huajiang’s offer. Now he was here, seeking refuge. For someone who prided himself on being an intellectual, the situation was awkward and humiliating. But he had nowhere else to go—his household had run out of food yesterday, and when faced with his wife’s anger, he could only remain silent.

But this time was different. His wife was resolute, not only raising her hand against him but also taking their son and leaving for her parents’ house. Before she left, she told him she wanted a divorce.

That was when panic truly set in for Hao Jianguo—like a drowning man grasping desperately for a lifeline. After much soul-searching, he realized that, proud as he was, he had no friends besides Hao Qiang. In the end, the only person he could turn to was Chen Huajiang.

"What happened to you? Who did this to you?" Chen Huajiang burst out with a smile, but when he saw Hao Jianguo’s battered appearance, he was stunned, then immediately furious.

"Ermao, call the guys!"

"What on earth? Is this still a country ruled by law? Someone beat you like this?"

"Hao, you’re from a military factory. I want to see which gang dares act so brazenly!"

Chen Huajiang’s first assumption was that Hao Jianguo had been attacked and had come seeking help.

"Alright, I’ll call the brothers right now," Ermao replied instinctively, seeing Chen Huajiang’s anger, and went to grab his bicycle.

"Wait! Hold on!" Hao Jianguo hurriedly grabbed Ermao’s bicycle. "Don’t call anyone. Don’t make a fuss. It’s a family matter, just a family matter," he explained.

Now Chen Huajiang and Ermao understood—it was a domestic dispute.

"Ermao, the chicken legs are all marinated. Go fetch a batch from the kitchen," Chen Huajiang said, considering that with Ermao present, things might get embarrassing for Hao Jianguo. He sent Ermao away to give them privacy.

When only the two of them remained, Hao Jianguo looked gratefully at Chen Huajiang. He felt a warmth inside—Chen Huajiang’s earlier anger had been genuine, and his tact in sending Ermao away showed how much he valued him.

Hao Jianguo poured out the whole story, ending with a bitter shake of his head and a sigh. "Jianguo, Jianguo. My heart is set on building the nation, yet my own home is in shambles…"

Chen Huajiang handed him a cigarette, patted his shoulder, and offered some comfort. "Comrade Hao Jianguo, you’re being too narrow-minded. Serving in a military factory isn’t the only way to build the country. Every trade and every profession is a part of nation-building."

Hao Jianguo took a long drag and nodded. He understood the logic; he was just stifled by frustration.

"Since you’ve chosen to work with me, I’ll give you a task. Think of it as a test," Chen Huajiang said with a smile halfway through the cigarette.

"What task?" Hao Jianguo perked up, knowing this was the key moment. The more Chen Huajiang valued him, the more he wanted to prove his abilities—he couldn’t let him down.

Chen Huajiang grinned and gestured toward the Kunlun shop. "You have three days to figure out this shop’s business strategy, overall operations, and development plans. If you can manage that, you’ll be the manager of this store. If not, you’ll need more time to learn. What do you think?"

Chen Huajiang looked at him with expectation. From a future perspective, this was overkill for Hao Jianguo’s abilities, but at present, he was still too inexperienced, his expression all seriousness.

Chen Huajiang once pondered a similar question: Guan Yu sold dates, Zhang Fei slaughtered pigs—where did they learn their martial skills and military strategies? His answer: "On the road," learning and growing alongside Liu Bei through each campaign and march.

It was the repeated trials that transformed a date seller and a butcher into Guan Yu and Zhang Fei.

Right now, Hao Jianguo was like the date seller—whether he could become a Guan Yu would depend on how he learned and adapted along the way.

"Alright!" After studying the shop for a full minute, Hao Jianguo nodded solemnly.

Three days—not long, but not short either. During those three days, Hao Jianguo stayed at the store, living and working, always carrying paper and pen, jotting down notes and ideas. Whenever Chen Huajiang dropped by, Hao Jianguo would question him about anything he didn’t yet understand.

And so, on the afternoon of the third day, Hao Jianguo handed his findings to Chen Huajiang.

Chen Huajiang read through them carefully and was soon surprised. While many details were wrong, Hao Jianguo had accurately grasped his overall vision for the shop.

"You think the prices at Kunlun will keep rising? Why do you say that? Our prices are already quite high," Chen Huajiang said, gesturing to a chair and inviting Hao Jianguo to sit.

"It’s clear you want to turn Kunlun into a chain, expanding it further. Otherwise, you wouldn’t want me as a manager, and this place serves as headquarters. The pricing here is like that of a flagship brand—just like the AK rifle. Our Type 71 can’t be exported, but the AK is famous worldwide. The 71 isn’t worse than the AK; it just lacks the same recognition," Hao Jianguo explained confidently.

Chen Huajiang nodded with a smile.

"Also, you supply materials to other shops rather than recipes. It took me a while to figure out the pros and cons of that. But in the early stages, with limited capital, it’s more advantageous—it helps you quickly capture the market. Their shops rely on your supplies, so you’re all in it together."

He went on, clearly unaware that this strategy was called franchising—he could only describe it in his own way.

Chen Huajiang applauded. This was indeed a rare talent; not many could see this far ahead.

"And the downside?" he asked.

"Since those shops aren’t your own, you can’t control them fully. If they go against you, there’s little you can do in the short term. If their business falters, you have to help them recover—otherwise, it would damage the brand’s reputation," Hao Jianguo replied with confidence.

Chen Huajiang nodded. In later years, franchise problems would often tarnish a brand’s name. This was the double-edged sword of franchising—there were always pros and cons.

"Impressive. I’d give you seventy out of a hundred. From now on, you’re the manager of Kunlun Restaurant Number One. Work hard—I have faith in you," Chen Huajiang said with a smile, patting his arm as he stood.

"Wait, only seventy? Where did the other thirty go?" Hao Jianguo grabbed his arm, unwilling to let go, looking at him seriously.

He had wracked his brains for three days to come up with this answer, and seventy felt too little.

But he didn’t know that, in Chen Huajiang’s eyes, seventy was already a very high score.