Big Brother 09

"Brother Fang! Brother Fang! Have mercy!" Yu Duoyu was utterly stunned, staring at the hand that had stopped just inches from his face. The movement Fang Zhiyi had made was dripping with lethal intent.

"Don't get so close to me," Fang Zhiyi said coldly.

"Heh heh." Yu Duoyu released his grip. "I've already made the arrangements." As a seasoned middleman who traveled far and wide, Yu Duoyu had his own connections—though some weren't exactly aboveboard.

The markets in Guang City were chaotic at this time, flooded with outsiders, which had given rise to various factions.

Yu Duoyu's "contact" led him and Fang Zhiyi to inspect the goods, but they were ambushed by rivals in a narrow alley. The glint of knives in their hands made Yu Duoyu's legs tremble.

"This doesn't concern you. Get lost," one of the attackers said, surprisingly reasonable.

"Why are they after you?" Fang Zhiyi asked, eyeing the scar-faced man guiding them.

"Business rivalry, damn it. These bastards resort to dirty tricks when they can't win customers fair and square," Scarface sneered. "Just go." He took a slight step back.

Fang Zhiyi sensed his intention to flee and grabbed him. "No need."

"Huh?"

Watching Fang Zhiyi take down two men using the cramped alley to his advantage, Yu Duoyu regained his confidence.

"Your friend here—some kind of technician?" Scarface asked uncertainly.

"What's it to you? Mind your own business!" someone from the opposing side shouted.

Fang Zhiyi sighed. "I'm just here to buy goods. But if you kill him, I won’t have a supplier."

"You asking for death?" Despite the threat, Fang Zhiyi knocked out two more men, leaving the speaker hesitant. Was this guy some kind of martial artist?

Fang Zhiyi clicked his tongue. "How about you come with us instead? I’ve got a business opportunity and need manpower."

Tempted by both force and profit, their inspection team grew in numbers. Scarface was reluctant but kept quiet—after all, once they reached his turf, he could settle the score.

But once they sat down, both sides were mesmerized by the grand vision Fang Zhiyi painted.

Tapping his rough sketch on a cardboard box, Fang Zhiyi declared, "At this rate, neither of you can meet my supply demands alone. I need you to work together and ensure the safety of the materials. Within three years, I’ll have you driving luxury cars and buying high-rises!"

Scarface felt the urge to applaud but held back when he saw his rival sitting across from him.

"But... is your product really that good?" someone questioned.

"Lacking faith in your own product is the first mistake! Let me put it this way—even if you dominate this area, so what? Can you monopolize the market? Or do you think jail time beats honest money?"

"Let’s do it!" The leader slammed the table and glared at Scarface. "What about you, dumbass?"

Scarface shot back, "You’re the dumbass! I’m in too!"

Fang Zhiyi took a deep breath. "One month. We’ll have a finished product in one month." Both sides stared at him with hope, dazzled by the grand blueprint—they could already see their future success.

When Fang Zhiyi returned to the small county, the electromechanical factory was already undergoing reforms. The myth of the "iron rice bowl" had shattered. Salesmen scrambled for clients or chased unpaid debts. Lin Jianguo, now the factory director, had gone gray—the factory needed transformation, or it would dissolve like the battery plant, leaving workers jobless.

The hand-crank generator business was declining, with nearby markets saturated and knockoffs emerging. Fang Zhiyi’s return reinvigorated the small workshop.

Dressed sharply, Fang Zhiyi reappeared at the factory. Seeing Lin Jianguo’s stress-whitened hair, he stated his purpose.

"You started a company? 'Big Millet Company'? Sounds like a grain seller," Lin Jianguo joked weakly.

Fang Zhiyi handed over a stack of documents. "My research and proposal. Take a look, Uncle Lin."

Lin Jianguo skimmed at first, but his interest grew with each page.

"We have injection molding machines, and small tape drive mechanisms are doable. But we’ve never made circuit boards for tape reading and writing," he muttered.

Fang Zhiyi smiled. "Not a problem. I’ve already sorted the circuit boards."

Lin Jianguo looked up. "You have that kind of expertise?"

Fang Zhiyi shrugged. "I went to Guang City and secured suppliers."

Lin Jianguo nodded and kept reading. The English-learning craze was rising, and the repeater—a novel student product—filled a gap. Imported tape recorders were expensive and bulky. The market desperately needed affordable, portable learning electronics.

By dusk, Lin Jianguo closed the file, studying Fang Zhiyi intently.

"If the project fails, I’ll cover half the losses," Fang Zhiyi said casually, exuding the confidence of a millionaire despite his empty pockets.

Lin Jianguo suddenly laughed.

"When I first met you, I never imagined this day."

The factory convened a meeting to discuss the "third industry" transformation plan. Skeptics fell silent when Fang Zhiyi unveiled the first prototype.

On the very day the repeater launched, Xiao Hei informed Fang Zhiyi that third brother Fang Mingrui had been arrested for stealing public property. Since he was months shy of adulthood, he was sent to juvenile detention. Fang's Mother was frantic, but Fang's Father and second brother Fang Haoran reacted indifferently, even mocking the situation. This led to another fight between Fang's parents, but Fang's Mother summoned her brothers, forcing Fang's Father to back down—though the downside was her money ending up with Fang Zhiyi’s deadbeat uncle.

Fang Haoran grew more listless by the day, mirroring Fang Zhiyi’s past self—working at dawn, eating, then laboring again.

"The original host was used to it, but Fang Haoran? He’s tasted freedom. That’s the sweetest revenge." Fang Zhiyi grinned like a triumphant schemer.

Just as he predicted, this selfish, parasitic family could be torn apart with money. Imbalance in interests would destroy them from within. But it wasn’t enough—their reckoning was far from over.

The five from the small workshop now worked openly for Fang Zhiyi. Paired with English practice tapes or Hong Kong-Taiwan pop music cassettes from Guang City, the repeater sparked a buying frenzy. The once-deserted factory gates now teemed with queued trucks and dealers daily.