With Fisherman Grandpa's words, Chen Jianhai felt somewhat reassured.
That afternoon, he took the last ferry back to Nanjiang and had a detailed discussion with Huang Baichuan, finally gaining a comprehensive understanding of the "fish basket situation."
It turned out that among the foreign guests who attended the Little Fortune God Beer Exchange Forum, there was a brewery owner from Reed Flower Country.
This brewer's brother happened to be engaged in the distribution of high-end handicrafts overseas.
Upon seeing the fish baskets, he was instantly captivated by their exquisite design and craftsmanship.
After some inquiries, the distributor contacted Fisherman Grandpa through Little Fortune God Brewery to propose a collaboration.
"Boss Chen, here's the information on that foreign distributor."
"I had it checked."
"The company is reliable, with a long-established history and substantial capital."
"If the island can meet the conditions, I believe this is a viable partner."
Huang Baichuan's voice carried a tone of serendipitous discovery.
He never imagined that the fish baskets chosen as conference souvenirs would catch a foreign distributor's eye, opening up international markets.
"This is a rare opportunity!"
"If you want to pursue this, I suggest acting quickly. Market opportunities are fleeting—miss this chance, and it's gone."
Huang Baichuan analyzed earnestly.
"But overseas markets are complex. Without experience in international trade, it's best to consult widely before deciding."
"Regardless, I'm here to help however I can."
"Even if I can't assist, our Nanjiang CEOs' dance training group will rally behind you."
Chen Jianhai pondered silently before nodding. "Got it, Brother Huang. Thank you."
---
The moon hung high, stars dotted the sky.
Land breezes swept from the city toward the sea, dissolving gray dust into the night.
Golden streetlights illuminated the sky, and the tourist-filled streets of daytime finally quieted.
Only pharmacies and convenience stores remained lit, their entrances displaying unsold fruits from the day.
Exhausted, Chen Jianhai stepped out of Little Fortune God Brewery, standing at the crossroads, suddenly feeling adrift.
...Where should I go?
The Shell Association awaited his decisions.
The island's fish baskets needed his guidance.
His hotels' future development demanded his input.
Each matter was urgent, leaving him no breathing room.
In his early days as a small hotel owner, idling, napping, and sipping coffee had brought modest earnings but immense comfort.
Now, despite signing more contracts and having ample funds, he felt increasingly constrained and weary.
Gazing at the neon lights,
Chen Jianhai instinctively headed toward Ring Seaside Road.
---
Xiaolang's BBQ was in full swing at night.
Small tables lined the streets, the aroma of sizzling skewers and cumin madly enticing passersby.
Friends clustered on plastic stools, feasting and drinking boisterously.
As the night wore on, men stripped off shirts or lifted them to reveal bellies, toasting strangers who shared their spirit.
Though the shop was small,
Decades of lively atmosphere never waned.
Approaching, Chen Jianhai's tension eased slightly, soothed by the vibrant scene.
Xiaolang, shirtless and wielding his ancestral palm fan, sweated over the charcoal grill.
Heat waves distorted the air.
Spotting Chen Jianhai, he yelled while flipping skewers:
"Bro! Grab 10 chicken wings from the fridge—I'm swamped!"
"Coming!"
Chen Jianhai reflexively rolled up his sleeves, entered the shop, fetched the wings, and delivered them to Xiaolang.
"Payment received: 49 yuan."
"Payment received: 145 yuan."
"New order from PrettyTuan: 93 yuan."
"Payment received: 123 yuan."
...
The shop's speaker blared transaction alerts incessantly.
Simple, repetitive labor brought pure joy.
For hours,
Chen Jianhai and Xiaolang fell into their old island rhythm—one grilling, the other serving and handling payments, too busy to talk.
Occasionally, Chen Jianhai would hold a water bottle to Xiaolang's lips for gulps.
Xiaolang, in turn, sneaked him extra skewers or bread to nibble.
Amidst the physical exertion and earnings,
Chen Jianhai's turmoil quietly dissipated, his mind gradually calming.
They worked until past 2 a.m., seeing off the last customers.
---
Dawn broke, birds chirped.
Xiaolang doused the coals, sat on the curb smoking to cool down, then reentered to crack eggs for dough drop soup.
Down the street,
Old Chang and sanitation workers approached with cleaning carts.
Responsible for Ring Seaside Road's hygiene,
They knew every shop's closing time and the optimal cleaning schedule.
Today, arriving as usual,
They spotted a tall young man clearing tables outside the BBQ joint.
His expensive shirt was stained with sweat and grease, splattered with oil.
As he bent to collect bottles, his leather shoes sloshed through spilled beer, flecking his trousers.
The dishevelment was striking.
"Boss Chen?!"
Old Chang called out tentatively.
The man looked up, then brightened. "Uncle Chang! Morning!"
"Boss Chen, why are you doing this? We'll handle cleanup!"
Recognizing him, the team swarmed over, a woman even snatching the broom from his hands.
Chen Jianhai explained sheepishly: "This is my brother's shop. Just helping out."
At this,
The crew memorized the shop's name and location with unsettling intensity, making Xiaolang shiver.
Carrying two soup bowls outside,
Xiaolang froze at the sight of a dozen people blocking his entrance, tools in hand.
"Elders, I just made some dough drop soup. Hot and fresh."
He offered the bowls shakily. "There's more inside—care to try?"
As the saying goes: Perfect timing beats early arrival.
Old Chang and crew, assuming the soup was prepared for them, were deeply moved.
"Thanks, young man, but we've eaten at Boss Chen's Little Red House."
"You two haven't eaten yet, right?"
"Go ahead. We'll clean up afterward."
"From now on, your shop's sanitation is our duty!"
Watching them depart with brooms,
Xiaolang gaped at Chen Jianhai: "Bro, what just happened?"
Chen Jianhai smiled warmly.
"One generation plants trees; another enjoys shade. You're benefiting from my goodwill—free cleaning forever."
Taking a bowl, he shoveled soup into his mouth ravenously.
Starved since yesterday's rushed meals,
The two sat on the steps, demolishing their breakfast under the rising sun.
Between bites, Xiaolang eyed Chen Jianhai's ruined attire.
"Bro, why so dressed up? Good news?"
"Yep!" Chen Jianhai nodded emphatically.
"I'm now chairman of Shell Advanced Hotel Association!"
"Seriously?!" Xiaolang nearly choked.
"Seriously!" Chen Jianhai grinned.
"We should celebrate! I'll get drinks!"
Xiaolang set his bowl down, but Chen Jianhai stopped him.
"Drinking this early? Ruin your stomach!"
Xiaolang blinked. "Then what?"
Chen Jianhai raised his soup bowl. "This!"
"Cheers!"
Xiaolang clinked bowls enthusiastically.
"To my bro's path widening, soaring higher!"
Downing the soup in one go, he burped happily.
"Bro, plans today? Let's call Dabo out—my treat!"
Chen Jianhai sighed. "Can't. Heading back to Zaomen."
Xiaolang yelped: "Again?!"
"Yep." Chen Jianhai exhaled heavily. "Work piles up."
The night's labor, though exhausting, had clarified his priorities.
Lion Castle's hidden quest wasn't hide-and-seek—it lacked clues, requiring gradual exploration.
For Room 1703's Halloween theme, he'd instructed the copywriter to notify fan groups and arranged free stays for members.
Like planting seeds, results needed time to sprout.
The association's advancement required thorough understanding before charting a collective path.
Most pressing was the island's fish basket opportunity.
Huang Baichuan was right—windows closed fast.
If competitors caught wind, the island would lose out.
Though inexperienced in international trade,
Chen Jianhai knew someone who could advise—
Someone whose overseas ventures had faltered, but whose insights remained invaluable.
After changing at the hotel,
Chen Jianhai washed up, shaved, ate breakfast, and boarded the train to Zaomen.
Arriving, he called from the Shell Association building:
"Brother Yong, it's Chen Jianhai."
"Free for a meal today?"
"What? Can't I miss you?!"
"Great—Nine Seas Hot Pot at noon."
---
Meanwhile, at Coconut Umbrella Hotel Association,
News of Chen Jianhai's appointment spread rapidly by afternoon, reaching other associations.
While other provinces barely noted it,
Within Coconut Umbrella, the reaction was seismic.
That day, association chairman Wan Rong and a dozen others gathered solemnly, each holding an advanced association application form.
"Boss Tong moves fast," Wan Rong gritted.
By making Chen Jianhai chairman, Tong Tongsheng had blindsided Nanjiang.
Though unspoken, all knew:
Without Chen Jianhai, Coconut Umbrella wouldn't have advanced so quickly.
They'd pinned hopes on him leading their charge to the next level.
Now, not only was he poached—he was the enemy's leader!
How the hell do we proceed?!