Cheng Yongtang’s factory was located in an industrial building in Areia Preta (Heisha Huan). It covered an area of only 600 square meters, with an annual output of less than two million pieces. With the development of Macau’s tourism economy, more and more tourists were coming here to shop and buy medicine; relying solely on internet influencers visiting the shop to boost traffic was not sustainable.
The market was growing larger, but Macau was small, which limited production capacity. Equipment investment and R&D personnel, on the other hand, were a heavy burden. Hearing that there was a Guangdong-Macao In-Depth Cooperation Zone in Hengqin, Zhuhai, where they could rely on the park’s cooperation to develop new products or upgrade manufacturing techniques, Cheng Baoyi became interested and started running over there whenever she had free time.
Although the Areia Preta factory was small, the senior employees had long ago aligned themselves with the First Household (the eldest branch of the family), acting as the eyes and ears of the eldest sister and second sister. Cheng Baoyi certainly wouldn’t consult with them; she only sought out Tang Shen. Tang Shen, however, looked blank: “I’m just a teacher, and I don’t understand business. I can’t give you any advice.”
Cheng Baoyi thought to herself, that’s true.
She felt a little disappointed. Tang Shen was not Wen Yizhuang, after all. She was her younger brother’s tutor, while Wen Yizhuang was employed by Cheng Yongtang. Never underestimate his idle-seeming position; what Cheng Kewei needed most was the information he could bring. Moreover, Wen Yizhuang’s vision and knowledge were things Tang Shen couldn’t match.
Just as she was pondering silently, Tang Shen spoke again, “However, if you manufacture in Hengqin, won’t you be able to avoid being constrained by the First Household at every turn? Isn’t that so?”
Cheng Baoyi’s mind was like a flag. As soon as Tang Shen’s words dropped, the wind blew to the other side, the head of the flag swung in the opposite direction, and her thoughts drifted the other way: It really is better to have an outsider like Tang Shen. Even though he doesn’t understand business, he understands history. In Chinese history, the one thing that is never lacking is struggles of all sizes.
This was a favorable wind from the new policy. For traditional Chinese medicine products approved and registered in Macau and produced in the Hengqin cooperation zone, the use of marks such as “Made in Macau” and “Supervised in Macau” was permitted. The Macau factory was old, and Cheng Baoyi had long wanted to adopt the “Hengqin Production + Macau Supervision” model.
The Cheng family was like a world unto itself (jianghu), and the old industrial building in Areia Preta was the periphery of that world. The slightest sound could ripple right to the center of the jianghu. Seeing that Cheng Baoyi was frequently absent, the factory workers gradually began to spread gossip. With so many rumors flying back and forth, the stories became distorted and out of tune.
When it reached Old Mrs. Cheng’s ears, it had somehow turned into this: Cheng Baoyi was going to sell the formula to the Japanese.
Nobody knew who took the photos, but they silently appeared on Old Mrs. Cheng’s desk. They were all taken with a telephoto lens; the image quality was coarse, but the faces were clear: Cheng Baoyi sitting in a Macau restaurant with a dark-suit-wearing East Asian-looking man, the other person leaning forward slightly with a focused expression.
There was also a printed slip of paper explaining the man’s identity: a representative of a Japanese pharmaceutical company.
Old Mrs. Cheng flipped the photo over, stopped looking at it, and picked up her teacup. After a long while, she told Hao Jie to summon Tan Meiqi. Hao Jie acknowledged the order, but just as she took two steps out, the old lady changed her mind. “Don’t let the eldest daughter-in-law know. Call Baoyi directly.”
Cheng Baoyi was in Zhuhai. When she rushed back, she saw Hao Jie calling her over with a mysterious look on her face. She felt strange, thinking: Could it still be about that internet influencer shop visit from before? My eldest brother’s side has already called it off, and this matter was clearly brought to a close. Stepping through the door, she caught sight of the photos on the old lady’s desk at a glance.
Old Mrs. Cheng had always been gentle, kind, and presented herself as a good person before her children and grandchildren. But today she withheld her smile, nor did she ask Hao Jie to pour tea for Baoyi. She quietly looked at Cheng Baoyi, waiting for her explanation.
Cheng Baoyi picked up the slip of paper, glanced at it, and gave a helpless smile. “Meguro is of mixed Japanese-Chinese descent and works at a Japanese pharmaceutical company, but what we talked about had nothing to do with our professions.”
Old Mrs. Cheng sighed. “Baoyi, fetch the medicine for grandma.” Not understanding why the topic had suddenly changed, Cheng Baoyi followed the old lady’s instructions and stood up to get the medicine. Is it this pillbox? No. This bottle? Not right. Opening the drawer, it was filled with various medicines—which one? The small white box.
She finally found the right one, handed the medicine box to Old Mrs. Cheng, poured her some warm water, and watched her take the medicine. Although Cheng Baoyi couldn’t compare to her eldest sister, second sister, or even her mother, she still knew the basic chores of attending to someone, and recently she had often observed Hao Jie’s physical and verbal routine. Seeing the old lady’s exhaustion fully exposed at that moment, she hurriedly grabbed a cushion and gently tucked it under the small of her back.
The old lady said, “I’m old…”
“Grandma, your spirit is still good! Full of vigor and vitality, strong and healthy!”
Old Mrs. Cheng smiled, waved her hand, and patted the spot right beside her. A minute ago, her face had been completely expressionless; now, every wrinkle radiated affection. The art of wielding both benevolence and severity could be none other than this. She said, “Baoyi, everyone else thinks I’m going to hand Cheng Yongtang over to Kewei. But neither your grandfather nor I ever meant that the company had to be handed over to a grandson.”
Cheng Baoyi’s heart suddenly leapt.
“The earliest Cheng’s Pharmacy of Medicinal Food in Xiguan, Guangzhou—the prescription was brought by the Cheng family’s daughter-in-law from her maiden home, which is how the tradition of passing it down to daughters came to be. Later, Cheng Yongtang split off from Cheng’s, and while it couldn’t take the pastry recipes, it took the medicinal prescriptions.” Old Mrs. Cheng’s meaning was crystal clear. From its very inception, Cheng Yongtang had been inseparable from female wisdom. “I’ve been watching what each of you is doing… Whoever performs well will be handed the decision-making power in the future. The only thing I fear is Cheng Yongtang failing in my hands.”
Cheng Baoyi sat in the room for quite a while, her head spinning and a cold sweat breaking out across her back. Once the cold sweat subsided, her mind cleared up a bit, and she understood: there were hidden layers to the old lady’s words. The outermost layer was naturally empty promises, hoping that Cheng Baoyi would work loyally and dutifully. The meaning wrapped inside, however, still leaked a fair bit of mistrust.
In the end, she expressed her stance to Old Mrs. Cheng: “Grandma, I will put my heart into working hard.”
“Mm.” Old Mrs. Cheng nodded and smiled very slowly. “Hand me that lighter over there.”
Not understanding why, Cheng Baoyi complied, handing the moxibustion flame gun to the old lady.
Old Mrs. Cheng pressed it, and with full firepower, she swept the flame toward the photos. The photos instantly caught fire, burned, and were tossed into a decorative porcelain bowl right in front of them. The figures in the photos were swallowed by the flames, like a mini-ritual inside a set of pots and pans. The firelight flushed Cheng Baoyi’s face red, a face that was intensely suppressing her own emotions.
“Baoyi, since someone handed the photos to me, it proves that you are already a strong competitor in the eyes of the other party. What they call a thorn in their side.”
Cheng Baoyi’s heart gave another violent thump.
“In the future, when you speak and act, make sure you don’t give anyone something to use against you. As far as grandma is concerned, the palm of the hand is flesh, and the back of the hand is also flesh. This time they secretly put the photos on my desk. Next time, if they pull out a video clip in a company meeting room, grandma won’t be able to protect you either. You’ll only have yourself to explain.”
“Grandma, you have to believe me. Meguro really only sought me out for personal matters.”
The old lady looked at her, waiting for her subsequent explanation.
Cheng Baoyi said, “I can’t tell you the reason for now.”
Old Mrs. Cheng gently patted the back of her hand. “Baoyi, of course grandma believes you. But you need to prepare yourself to think about how you will explain it to everyone.”
After Cheng Baoyi left, Hao Jie walked in with a cup of ginseng tea. Old Mrs. Cheng was leaning sideways on the sofa, resting with her eyes closed. Hearing the familiar footsteps, she knew who had come in, but without opening her eyelids, she said softly, “Leave it there. I’ll drink it later.”
Hao Jie smiled and replied, “Alright.”
Just as she bent down to tidy the teacups, Old Mrs. Cheng slowly opened her eyes, as if asking her, yet also as if talking to herself, “Did you see who put the photos in my room that day?”
“What photos?” Hao Jie still smiled as she tidied the teacups. Old Mrs. Cheng didn’t ask any further.
Having served each other for a long time, the mistress and servant had long since developed a subtle tacit understanding. About many things, Hao Jie pretended not to know. Old Mrs. Cheng knew that she was pretending not to know, and Hao Jie also understood that Old Mrs. Cheng knew she was pretending not to know.