Eighties Sweetheart Wife
Chapter 183 Who is Han Zhi?_1

Chapter 183: Chapter 183 Who is Han Zhi?_1

Xia Bowen actually knew Old Mr. Ji as well.

They just didn’t have much interaction.

Now, Old Mr. Ji actually took the initiative to call him, and he spoke directly about Xia Xindong’s matter.

He also told Xia Bowen that Song Yunuan was his granddaughter.

Old Master Ji was actually very polite, and his tone was very gentle.

Xia Bowen dared not take it lightly, although he hadn’t really planned on taking any action.

He had never expected Xia Xindong to recognize him as his father upon his return.

He feared that Xia Xindong probably also hated him to the bone.

Xia Bowen sat in the study, motionless like a statue.

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After greeting Old Mr. Ji, Song Yunuan ran off to sell goods with her family.

The incoming sandals and rain boots had all sold out.

This time, with the phone call, they could send out the goods, and relying on the current supply situation, Song Liang had ordered another batch. Since the distance was close, the delivery would be quick. This time, they didn’t use a transport company but instead, Old Man Song drove the big cart to haul the goods himself.

It took three trips to bring everything back.

The east warehouse was used as a storage, filled to the brim, which was a comforting sight.

Song Yunuan thought that this was only possible now, confident that everything could be sold. In ten or so years, the situation might not be so favorable.

For now, Old Mrs. Song had not closed the accounts, planning to do so after this batch of goods had all been sold.

That would also coincide with the end of the month, and they could pay everyone’s salaries. But Old Mrs. Song confided to Song Yunuan that the family had saved quite a bit of money. The 1,000 yuan in the savings account was earmarked for building a house, and the rest, which was mostly earned, was already at 6,500 yuan.

How nice it would be if they could just keep saving without spending.

But now it was like this, spending money on stock and then selling it, in a continuous cycle, like rolling a snowball.

Song Yunuan asked her grandmother to make sure the money was ready, as they might buy a store in town at any moment.

Old Mrs. Song told Song Yunuan that if they really bought a store, she would put it in Song Yunuan’s name.

Song Yunuan, grinning, declined, saying she was young and not in a rush. If they really bought a house, she insisted that it must have her grandmother’s name on it.

It would be a reward for her grandmother’s lifetime of hard work.

Then Song Yunuan asked what her grandmother’s name was.

Old Mrs. Song was taken aback for a moment.

Since marrying into the Song family, she started as a Song family daughter-in-law, then simply as part of the Song family, after that as Song Liang’s mother, and later as Old Mrs. Song.

She hesitated for a moment, feeling a warm surge in her heart, and with a somewhat choked voice, told Song Yunuan her name was Han Zhi.

Song Yunuan quickly praised that the name was very pretty.

She even said it was just one character short of a female hero’s name, no wonder her aunt’s songs were so moving—it all had a connection.

Old Mrs. Song intuitively felt that Little Nuan was just babbling, but she loved listening to Little Nuan talk.

Old Mrs. Song thought to herself that she needed to earn more money, in case Little Nuan got into Beidu University.

She needed to buy Little Nuan a house in Beidu, otherwise Xia Bowen’s family would look down on her, worried that Little Nuan might take advantage of them.

If by that time her Little Nuan had a house, they wouldn’t have to fear anymore, would they?

As for her eldest grandson, Song Mingbo, she did not think he would get into Beidu University.

Little Nuan was the one with the most promise.

But she had no idea about how to buy a house in Beidu, whether a household registration was needed, or how much money it would require; she knew nothing at the moment.

And if it turned out to be impossible when the time came, how disappointed Little Nuan would be.

So Old Mrs. Song hadn’t spoken to anyone about it; she had just made up her mind.

Meanwhile, Song Yunuan was heading to the main gate of the textile factory.

The mobile service station, after all, couldn’t always be at the department store.

The Song family arrived during the lunch break.

By then, most of the goods they had brought had been sold.

With no one at the factory gates now, Song Liang was preparing to move the service station to the entrance of the department store.

Asheng saw Song Yunuan, pursed his lips in a pout; his sister had abandoned him today, but he was sure she had something urgent to deal with, so he hurried to the carriage to find a lunchbox, inside which were delicate crystal dumplings made by Zhao Li especially for Little Nuan, with starch skins, a new product the steamed dumpling shop was planning to launch.

They would only sell five trays each day.

The group shared them, and although Song Yunuan had already eaten, she still joined them for a few. And the taste was indeed quite good.

It was chives with egg and shrimp; it was surely not going to be cheap.

Song Liang said, "The market has started construction. Zhao Li told me that this market is going to have three stories—a shop on each floor, facing south with a wide and bright layout. Little Zhao has already reserved a good spot for us."

Song Yunuan had seen it on her way; construction there had really begun.

Right, and it looked like they’d started work on the grand auditorium as well.

I heard it was through collective donations, or else it would’ve been impossible to construct.

Song Liang went to check on Song Yunuan.

Song Yunuan blinked and said, "Dad, just say what you’ve got to say."

Song Liang said, "The shop is going to be in your name; it’s a purchase for you."

Song Yunuan grinned. Her dad hadn’t discussed this with grandma beforehand. There might be a beating in store for him later.

Old Mrs. Song said ominously, "Little Nuan said the shop should be registered in Han Zhi’s name."

Song Liang was taken aback. "Who’s Han Zhi? How could it be registered under an outsider’s name?"

Old Mrs. Song, clenching her teeth and hands on her hips, retorted, "Han Zhi is your mother!"

Following that, she landed several slaps; Song Liang hurriedly ducked and dodged, covering his head, while Song Yunuan and Asheng laughed heartlessly.

In this era, unlike in later times, women’s original names were often ignored after marriage.

It wasn’t like that for women who worked in the city, but wasn’t it like this in the countryside?

Despite this, Old Mrs. Song was smiling, feeling incredibly satisfied internally, and naturally full of energy.

The goals piled up one after the other, none yet achieved, but it felt like there was great momentum.

This time Lian Xiang and Xia Guilan didn’t come.

There was no need for so many people.

At home, there was still the need to make clothes and pants, as well as process headbands, hairpins, and the like.

The headbands were made by bending wire.

Song Nian had gotten a bundle of wire and made many, curving both ends and wrapping them with wool or strips of fabric, adorned with bows; they were incredibly pretty.

At the beginning of the eighties, girls particularly liked to wear headbands and hair flowers, loving to decorate themselves like blossoms.

There was a wide variety of styles, dazzling to the eye.

On the mobile service station’s sales cart, the Song family’s selection of goods was ever-increasing and the varieties were becoming richer.

Today, being Saturday, Song Yunuan and Asheng went to pick up Song Mingbo from No. 1 Middle School and took the opportunity to discuss with him the recent developments at home.

Song Mingbo, with a backpack slung over his shoulders, was listening to Song Yunuan’s chatter, when suddenly, he wiped a tear from his eye.

Song Yunuan asked in surprise, "Big brother, what’s wrong?"

Before Song Mingbo could reply, Asheng said, "I know what’s with big brother."

"He feels like an outsider; that we’re not including him in our fun."

"Really?"

Song Mingbo grabbed Asheng and tossed him up in the air then caught him steadily.

Asheng laughed joyously.

"Again, again!"

Song Mingbo said, "I just feel useless, like I can’t help with anything that’s why I’m upset."