The military unit was particularly concerned about the situation between Yang Yufen and Qin Nian, especially given Qin Nian's special status. If a conflict arose between Yang Yufen and Qin Nian, it would inevitably involve them as well.
"Comrade Yang Yufen is selling roasted sweet potatoes at the entrance of the textile factory?"
Upon learning that Qin Nian was still continuing her work, the leaders breathed a sigh of relief. However, when they heard that Yang Yufen, who was over fifty, was setting up a stall in the freezing winter, they couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt.
"Yes, but business is good. Nowadays, the state encourages economic growth, and Comrade Yang Yufen’s self-reliance without giving up is an excellent example. Many family members of our comrades in the military are waiting for job assignments, but those aren’t easy to come by."
Political Commissar Zhao truly admired Yang Yufen’s resilience.
"The only concern is that some might grow envious. After all, Comrade Yang Yufen isn’t young anymore, and this isn’t their commune."
Political Commissar Zhao voiced his concerns tactfully.
"Since she’s part of our military district, let’s notify the local police in that area. Street safety is of utmost importance, especially around a state-owned factory like the textile mill."
"Understood."
Yang Yufen had only been selling for a few days when she caught the attention of some troublemakers. Seeing her earn money, they grew envious.
A few local hoodlums, unwilling to work but eager for money, began scheming.
Noticing that Yang Yufen was elderly and alone, they decided to shake her down for "protection money."
The police station near the textile factory never expected the military to call them specifically about street safety. They had no choice but to increase patrols and assign more officers.
No sooner had they made the arrangements than they arrested three troublemakers.
The police chief broke into a cold sweat. Had they acted any slower, things could have escalated. No wonder the military had called—clearly, there was a real security issue.
Yang Yufen knew her thriving business would attract envy. When three young hoodlums approached, she wasn’t the least bit flustered.
She gripped her fire tongs tightly. These punks were no match for her. She still harbored resentment for not being able to give her own good-for-nothing son a proper beating—if only she could get her hands on him.
"Who said you could set up shop here?"
One of the hoodlums reached for a roasted sweet potato on display. Yang Yufen had been waiting for them to make a move.
"Which law says I can’t?"
She smacked his hand with the tongs.
"Ow! You old hag, how dare you hit me! Do you even know who I am? I’ll flip your stall over! Who do you think runs this area?"
The hoodlum recoiled in pain, shaking his hand furiously, his face twisted in anger. What started as an attempt to extort money now turned into a desire to teach this old woman a lesson.
"If you don’t even know who you are, go ask your father! As for who runs this place—the Party and the state do!"
Yang Yufen’s firm declaration instantly swayed the onlookers, who had initially hesitated to get involved.
"That’s right! A bunch of no-goods causing trouble? Auntie Yang, I’ll help you!"
A young man from the textile factory spoke up, and soon others joined in.
"Who gave you the right to demand protection money?"
The patrolling police, alerted by the commotion, rushed over. Yang Yufen had been ready to fight, but seeing the officers, she set the tongs aside.
"I’m just an old woman. My son was a soldier who died on duty. My daughter-in-law is pregnant, and I’m just trying to earn a little extra by selling roasted sweet potatoes. In this freezing cold, every penny is hard-earned. And you dare demand money, threaten to wreck my stall, and even lay hands on me? Do you want to drive me to ruin?"
"Auntie Yang, don’t be upset. This is all their fault. Officers, these three troublemakers were causing a scene. Let’s hold them so they don’t run!"
The young man had sharp eyes—he spotted the hoodlums trying to flee the moment the police arrived.
The officers wiped their brows in relief. They had initially thought their superiors were just keeping them busy by ordering extra patrols, but it turned out there really was trouble.
"Take them away."
Since Yang Yufen hadn’t suffered any losses and the textile factory was about to let out, the police simply took the three troublemakers away for reprimand and possible restitution.
Yang Yufen handed out small sweet potatoes to those who had helped her. Having heard her story, no one wanted to take them for free. When she insisted, they simply paid for them—no one would let her lose money over this.
"There really are more good people in this world," Yang Yufen sighed.
Just then, the factory bell rang, signaling the end of the workday.
The rush of customers left no room for lingering emotions.
Once the crowd thinned, Yang Yufen found idle waiting too dull, so she pedaled her tricycle down the street, calling out her wares.
By the time she circled back to the research institute, even the last sweet potato was sold. Some disappointed customers missed out, but her cart could only carry so much.
After today’s exploration, Yang Yufen had her eye on two new spots: outside a school and near a movie theater.
She couldn’t manage all these places alone, but since her golden honeyed sweet potatoes were one-of-a-kind, she could resell them.
Money was important, but her main goal was taking care of her daughter-in-law. After skipping a few days of delivering lunch, Yang Yufen noticed the young woman had lost weight.
Word of Yang Yufen’s roasted sweet potatoes had spread far and wide. People knew about the delicious treats outside the textile factory, and some even traveled from other areas just to try them.
Once she had this idea, others did too—some wanted to buy sweet potatoes from her to resell.
Beijing was vast, and competition wouldn’t be an issue. Other roasted sweet potato vendors existed, but none had the same golden honeyed variety. People had searched everywhere but couldn’t find anything like it.
Yang Yufen cooked a meal and kept it warm on the stove, then tidied up the house. With daily cleaning, it didn’t take long.
Now, she transported about 200 pounds of sweet potatoes at a time, selling roughly 300 pounds a day. Some customers even bought them raw to roast at home, saving money.
The moment she arrived at her spot, a crowd gathered.
"Auntie Yang, it’s me, Little Zhang."
It was the young man from that morning.
"I remember you, young man. Thank you for your help earlier."
She wasn’t about to let him call her "elder sister"—that would mess up the generational order.
"You’ve got a sharp memory, Auntie. I wanted to discuss a business idea with you."
Little Zhang was thick-skinned and immediately corrected himself.
"Business? Don’t you work at the textile factory?"
His uniform made it obvious.
"I might not for much longer. I’m just a temp, and the pay’s too low. My father broke his leg and is bedridden—medical bills are piling up. Your roasted sweet potato business looks promising, but you only sell here. I’d like to buy from you and set up elsewhere."
