"What's there to be afraid of?" Song Nianchu's eyes sparkled with determination.
"Xiao Yuan, go have someone prepare a contract," the factory manager turned to He Zhiyuan beside him.
"Got it!" He Zhiyuan responded promptly before hurrying off. When he returned, he was holding a contract.
"Manager, take a look and see if this contract works," He Zhiyuan handed it over for review.
The manager carefully examined it. Contracts these days were straightforward, without too many complicated clauses—just the basic details.
Once satisfied, the manager passed the contract to Song Nianchu.
"Comrade Song, take a look. If everything's in order, you can sign."
Song Nianchu accepted the contract, glanced at the purchase price—unchanged from before—and confirmed the quantity and delivery deadline. Everything was correct.
"May I borrow a pen?" She looked at He Zhiyuan.
He Zhiyuan immediately handed one over.
Song Nianchu signed her name on the contract and pressed her fingerprint onto it.
"All done." She returned the signed contract to the manager.
"Excellent!" The manager grinned from ear to ear, handing one copy back to her.
"I'll be expecting your first batch in seven days. But the quality must match what you brought today—otherwise, I won’t accept it," the manager added sternly.
"You don’t need to worry. If the quality isn’t the same, you can just kick me out," Song Nianchu declared firmly.
"I like your attitude. Xiao Yuan, see Comrade Song out." The manager chuckled, clutching the contract as he walked away.
For days, he had been troubled by the factory’s insufficient production capacity. Now, out of nowhere, this massive order had arrived.
As long as Song Nianchu delivered on time, this quarter’s production quota would be met. Finally, he could sleep soundly tonight.
The manager was overjoyed, and so was Song Nianchu.
This contract would make up for the lost orders from the kitchen workshop.
Truly, it was unwise to put all your eggs in one basket. Diversifying ensured that even if one path failed, another would succeed.
Tucking the contract away, Song Nianchu headed back to the village. Just outside the city, she ran into Wu Gang and his group.
"Nianchu? What brings you to town? Were you worried about us?" Wu Gang looked at her in surprise.
"No, I came to deliver fishing nets." She glanced at their now-empty handcart. "Did you deliver all the goods?"
"Yeah." Wu Gang nodded.
"Any trouble along the way?" she asked.
"None at all. Everything went smoothly—people were even polite to us." Wu Gang flashed a bright smile.
"Good. Let’s head back together then." Song Nianchu felt relieved.
"Sure!" Wu Gang agreed cheerfully.
Upon returning to the village, Song Nianchu wanted to update Wu Zhenggui about the fishing gear factory, so she accompanied Wu Gang to his house.
As soon as they entered, Hua came out to greet them.
"Gangzi—" Hua had meant to ask how the trip went, but she stopped short when she spotted Song Nianchu.
"Ah-Chu? Why are you back with Gangzi?" Hua looked puzzled.
"We met on the road. Nianchu said she needed to talk to Dad, so she came back with us," Wu Gang explained, parking the handcart in the yard.
"Oh, I’ll go get him then." Hua turned and went inside, calling out to Wu Zhenggui, who had been resting on a stool.
Wu Zhenggui had been waiting for Song Nianchu. Hearing she was here, he immediately stood up and came out.
Seeing her empty backpack, his face lit up.
"The nets were accepted?"
"Yes, and I’ve brought even better news!" Song Nianchu teased mysteriously.
"What news?" Wu Zhenggui pressed eagerly.
Song Nianchu pulled the contract from her pocket and handed it to him.
Wu Zhenggui took it, puzzled. The contract didn’t contain any difficult words, so he could read it easily.
By the time he finished, his hands were trembling with excitement.
"Ah-Chu, this… fifty nets? The factory wants that many?"
"Exactly." Song Nianchu confirmed.
Wu Zhenggui was ecstatic, but his joy quickly turned to concern.
"But with such a large order and such a tight deadline, how can we possibly finish in time?"
"Don’t worry. Mu Shi'an has made five more net-weaving machines. Distribute them tomorrow, and we’ll manage just fine," Song Nianchu reassured him.
"Five more?!" Wu Zhenggui didn’t know how to describe his emotions.
It felt like all the good fortune in the world had suddenly landed in his lap.
"Yes, everyone’s been working hard," Song Nianchu nodded.
"No need to wait until tomorrow—I’ll call a meeting right now," Wu Zhenggui decided.
"But it’s getting late," Song Nianchu glanced at the darkening sky.
"It’s fine. The cooler evening air is better anyway. Besides, if we hand out the machines tonight, they can start working immediately." Wu Zhenggui was anxious about meeting the deadline and wanted to make every second count.
"Alright. You gather everyone, and I’ll go home for dinner." Song Nianchu understood his urgency and didn’t argue.
"Go, go. Once we draw lots, I’ll bring people to your place to collect the machines." Wu Zhenggui waved her off when he heard she hadn’t eaten yet.
"Okay." Song Nianchu nodded and turned to leave.
"Wait—take the contract back. It’s safer with you. I might lose it," Wu Zhenggui called after her, returning the document.
"Fine." Song Nianchu smiled as she took it.
…
When she arrived home, the courtyard was quiet, save for a faint glow coming from the kitchen.
Song Nianchu set down her backpack and headed inside.
Mu Shi'an, Yongnian, and Mu Haoxuan sat at the table, where three large sweet potatoes lay.
Song Nianchu frowned.
"This is all you’re eating?"
"Sister!" Mu Haoxuan jumped up from his seat the moment he saw her.
Song Nianchu smiled and ruffled his hair.
"What would you like to eat? I can help," Mu Shi'an offered. He had wanted to cook something, but Mu Haoxuan and Mu Yongnian had strictly forbidden him from using the stove—since Song Nianchu had banned him from stir-frying. So, he had boiled sweet potatoes instead.
"Then wash the pot for me." Song Nianchu rolled up her sleeves and went to the cupboard.
She pulled out a smoked fish and a jar of homemade fermented black beans, deciding to steam them together—simple yet delicious.
"Alright." Mu Shi'an stood and moved to the stove.
"I’ll light the fire!" Mu Haoxuan eagerly took his seat.
Song Nianchu glanced back at them, her expression softening.
This house finally felt lively.
