You don’t ask for favors empty-handed. With a pack of Yuxi cigarettes to pave the way, Zhou Yan asked Comrade Wu, who was on duty, to pass along a message and help find Lin Zhiqiang.

Uncle Lin was currently his strongest connection at the textile factory. Their relationship was solid, and just yesterday, they had forged an even deeper bond.

He was reliable; asking for his help was the right call.

It was clear from what the accountant had said: her director was out to get Zhou Yan Restaurant, and she was targeting him specifically.

Sun Meili. That flashy, heavy-set woman had left a deep impression on Zhou.

She was part of the finance department, an office director who managed the cafeteria’s accounts and also handled the rentals for the factory’s dozen or so storefronts.

Her husband was the deputy director of the factory’s silk-reeling workshop—a simple, honest man who was being thoroughly cheated on.

Sun Meili’s relationship with Wang Defa was shady, and it was an open secret in the back kitchen.

One of the apprentices claimed to have heard... unspeakable sounds coming from the office.

Of course, there was no solid proof.

One handled the cafeteria’s operations, the other its finances. With the two of them colluding, they held absolute power over the factory cafeteria.

Zhou Yan had stolen the factory cafeteria’s stir-fry business and had also gotten Huang Fusheng ousted. It was no surprise Sun Meili would try everything to get rid of him, and this rent-hike tactic was truly vicious.

yuan a month. That was nearly three months’ salary for an average worker at the textile factory.

This was 1984. That came to 1,200 yuan for the year.

Forget Suji—even the best location in Jiazhou wouldn’t command such an astronomical price.

Sun Meili and Wang Defa were clearly trying to drive him out, forcing him to close shop because he couldn’t afford the rent.

But ultimately, they were lacking in imagination.

Zhou Yan Restaurant’s gross profit from yesterday alone was enough to cover a month’s rent. For him, 100 yuan wasn’t actually that much of a burden.

At his current rate of business, a conservative estimate would put his annual earnings at 20,000 yuan. A 1,200-yuan rent was nothing in comparison.

Comrade Zhou had invested nearly a thousand yuan into the restaurant. He could move the tables, chairs, and benches, but not the stove he’d paid a pretty penny to have a bricklayer build. If he relocated, he’d have to find someone to build a new one all over again.

The restaurant was in its growth phase right now; he couldn’t afford that kind of delay.

Besides, it’s not like you can open a restaurant just anywhere and expect the same results.

Even the finest wine is hard to sell if it’s hidden down a deep alley.

If this shop were just ten meters to the side, Zhou Yan would still be agonizing over how to attract customers.

Being right at the gates of Jiazhou’s most profitable state-owned factory, with nearly three thousand workers who had stable salaries and were in the city’s top income bracket... even a shop in Jiazhou City Center couldn’t necessarily beat this location.

In his past life as a food blogger, Zhou Yan had met many restaurant owners. Whenever they discussed choosing a location, they all agreed it was the most critical part of the initial planning. Without the right spot, they wouldn’t invest a dime, no matter how much cash they had on hand.

People who clung to the idea that ’as long as the food is good, customers will come’ and opened up shop in some remote backwater were either total newbies to the restaurant business or had the ability to drive traffic from online.

The reputation of Zhou Yan’s restaurant was just starting to build. He needed a period of consistent, high-quality service for it to truly take root in his customers’ minds.

If he couldn’t make his customers feel he was irreplaceable, then having to walk an extra hundred meters would become reason enough for them to give up and go somewhere else.

He absolutely had to hold on to this location.

But he refused to accept a rent hike like this. He had to find Lin Zhiqiang and get some justice.

Outsiders couldn’t just waltz in and out of the textile factory. Not long after Wu went to announce him, Lin Zhiqiang emerged.

"Zhou, Wu said you had something urgent to discuss?" Lin Zhiqiang had already done his morning workshop inspection, so he happened to be free.

"Uncle Lin..." Zhou Yan quickly explained the situation to him.

"A sudden rent hike? And they expect you to back-pay for this month?" Lin Zhiqiang frowned. "Your shop is in a good location, but it’s not worth 100 yuan. For the comrades in the finance department to act this way is absurd. It’s completely out of line!"

"If the factory were implementing a uniform rent increase, treating everyone equally, and all the other merchants agreed, then of course I would cooperate," Zhou Yan said seriously. "But I believe this is deliberately targeting me. It’s an attack on a private entrepreneur, and I won’t stand for it."

Lin Zhiqiang nodded. "Alright. I’ll go have a word with the factory director. The finance department isn’t under my authority, so I can’t interfere directly."

Zhou Yan added, "Oh, and Uncle Lin, there’s an accountant in the finance department named Wang Wei. Because she refused to raise my rent, Sun Meili is retaliating against her. She’s being transferred to guard the warehouse and haul goods. I was hoping you could..."

"Wang Wei?" Lin Zhiqiang chuckled and waved a hand dismissively. "You don’t have to worry about her. Sun Meili doesn’t have the clout to transfer her to a warehouse."

With that, he turned and walked back into the factory.

"Huh?" Zhou Yan froze for a second. ’What did he mean by that?’

...

「Outside the factory director’s office.」

Lin Zhiqiang knocked on the door.

"Come in," came Wang Hongliang’s voice.

Lin Zhiqiang pushed the door open and stepped inside. Wang Hongliang was sitting behind his desk. Standing to one side was a young woman with short hair, her eyes slightly red as though she had just been crying.

"Zhiqiang, you needed to see me about something?" Wang Hongliang asked, looking up at him.

"Director, I’m here on behalf of Zhou," Lin Zhiqiang replied with a nod.

"Zhou? You mean Zhou Yan?" Wang Hongliang laughed. "Why is everyone coming to see me about Zhou Yan today? Are you here about the rent hike on his restaurant too?"

Hearing this, Wang Wei, who was standing to the side, looked at Lin Zhiqiang in surprise.

"Have a seat. Sit down, let’s talk this over," Wang Hongliang invited.

Lin Zhiqiang walked to the desk and sat down, a smile on his face. "It seems Wang Wei has already told you. I find the situation rather peculiar—a sudden rent hike, and such a steep one at that."

"See? Vice Director Lin thinks the same way I do! Uncle, Sun Meili is deliberately making trouble. She wants to shut Zhou Yan’s restaurant down!" Wang Wei chimed in.

"Alright, alright, I know," Wang Hongliang said with a chuckle. "Look how worked up you are. Anyone would think it was your family’s restaurant being targeted." He then stood up and handed the glass of water from his desk to Wang Wei.