After half a cup of liquor, the fatigue of the past few days eased slightly. Xiao Liang set his glass down and turned to Gu Peijun.

“So, what do you think about the juice factory going forward? You must’ve given it some thought these past couple of days, right?”

Gu Peijun let out a wry laugh.

“Couple of days? I only really started thinking about it last night after I finally caught my breath. But you weren’t even in town yesterday. I went to your dorm at around one in the morning—only to find you’d already slipped back to the city without a word. Wasted a whole trip.”

Gu Peijun had worked at the juice factory for over a year after leaving the army. His ability to handle sales was sharp—almost too sharp for someone who didn’t play along with the old internal networks. Once he discovered the chaos in distribution, inventory, and bookkeeping, he was pushed out by Xiao Yujun. But he had never stopped watching the factory’s operations, quietly collecting material on Xiao Yujun all along.

In truth, when it came to the current situation of the juice factory, Gu Peijun knew even more than Xiao Liang.

Now acting head of the village committee—and by extension, the factory’s interim director—he had his own plan: clear out the warehouse full of stock first, then try to secure a few contract manufacturing deals to restart production.

“The priority is still clearing inventory and getting production back online,” Xiao Liang said. “But that’s easier said than done.”

Gu Peijun sighed.

“‘Difficult’ is putting it lightly. We’re talking over five million owed to the township credit union alone. On top of that, more than four million is still owed to fruit growers and suppliers from Nanting and nearby villages. No one expects that money back anytime soon. And without paying them, we can forget about sourcing fresh fruit again.”

“The whole case is too tangled. Even if the investigation drags on for three to five months, there might not be a result. And even after sentencing, recovering assets to repay debts won’t be easy.”

“There’s barely enough cash left in the accounts to cover two months of unpaid wages. The market’s been wrecked by Xiao Yujun’s people. We don’t even have a proper sales team anymore, and the warehouse is stuffed with stock. It’s a mess from every angle.”

“I was thinking of getting a few OEM orders just to restart production—but we don’t even have production funds. No client is going to front us the money. Honestly… it’s just one big ‘impossible’ from every direction.”

Xiao Liang took a slow sip of wine.

“I don’t think clearing inventory is that hard.”

Gu Peijun looked at him.

“You’ve just taken over village affairs. You’ve got your hands full already. I can handle sales.”

Then Xiao Liang added, “But have you thought about where the factory is actually headed? Even if we secure a few OEM contracts, where does that take Nanting Lake Juice Factory in the long run?”

Gu Peijun hesitated.

“…Not really. Do you have an idea?”

He had only taken over the village committee overnight and been thrown into managing the factory on top of that. There hadn’t been time to think about anything beyond survival.

Forget long-term strategy—he didn’t even have a plan for the hundreds of thousands of stock sitting in warehouses.

Xiao Liang took another small sip of liquor before speaking slowly.

“Look at the bigger picture. Not just in Shishan County—eastern Jiang Province is mostly flat land. The land is either industrial or urban development land, or protected basic farmland that can’t be casually reclassified.”

“The existing fruit orchards are mostly concentrated around Mount Suyun. Even if you count everything, that’s only seventy or eighty thousand mu.”

“Yet in this county alone, there are already five or six fruit canning and juice factories competing for that supply. The fruit resources are already stretched thin.”

“Even if Nanting Lake Juice Factory somehow eliminates the competition locally and fully utilizes its three production lines, where does it go from there? What’s the ceiling?”

He paused slightly.

“And there’s something even more important—you may not be thinking about this yet. From the central government down to the provinces, ecological protection and tourism development are becoming more and more important.”

“Mount Suyun is right next to the city. It’s one of Dongzhou’s key ecological tourism resources. Even if large-scale development isn’t possible right now, the long-term trend is clear: orchard land there will only shrink, not expand.”

Xiao Liang knew very well what the future looked like.

The juice beverage market would eventually explode into a billion-yuan industry. But Dongzhou and its surrounding areas simply didn’t have enough fruit supply to support a factory’s early capital expansion, let alone its long-term growth.

And for a small juice factory in its early stage, relying on out-of-province fruit meant logistics and coordination costs that would swallow up nearly all potential profit.

Without early capital accumulation, there was no way to compete with rising domestic brands—or the foreign giants that would eventually flood into the market.

Xiao Liang’s plan was simple in structure, ruthless in logic.

First: clear the massive inventory from the past four to five months. Without that, there was no liquidity.

Second: restore production under a controlled, phased plan—otherwise the township and village committee would never fully trust them with the factory.

But that wasn’t even the core issue.

What he needed now was to make Gu Peijun fully accept the direction he was about to lay out.

So Xiao Liang shifted the topic.

“Right now, across the country, township enterprises are being restructured. A lot of people have strong opinions about it. What do you think?”

Gu Peijun scratched his head.

“I don’t think that far ahead. If you can take over sales and clear the inventory within six months—maybe even a bit longer—and recover three to four million gradually while getting production restarted, that alone would already be more than what the township expects from us.”

“As for what comes next… we can deal with it then.”

He paused.

“To be honest, half a year just to stabilize things already feels optimistic.”

Xiao Liang shook his head.

“For inventory, I only need one month.”

Gu Peijun froze slightly.

“But what worries me isn’t speed.”

Xiao Liang’s gaze turned distant.

“It’s that if we move too fast… and do too well… we might end up inviting trouble.”

“People will get jealous. And when the peach is ripe, someone will want to pick it.”

The room fell quiet for a moment.

“If Nanting Lake Juice Factory goes from a rotting swamp to a fully running, profitable peach orchard in just one or two months,” Xiao Liang continued, “do you think people will still say it’s because of our ability? Or will they think anyone could’ve done it?”

“Right now, the village committee members are obedient because this place is a mess—no one wants to touch it.”

“But once it turns into a fat, juicy peach…”

His voice lowered slightly.

“Who’s going to guarantee it stays in our hands?”

Gu Peijun frowned.

Xiao Liang didn’t stop.

He had thought it through already.

They were too young. Too new. Too light on authority.

One had only been working for less than two years; the other had been out of the army for barely three.

They didn’t yet have enough weight in the village—or in Wang Xingmin’s eyes.

And if things went too smoothly, the township might decide someone “more experienced” should take over the harvest entirely.

Worst case, they wouldn’t even need to reach for the peach themselves.

Someone else would simply be assigned to pick it for them.

Xiao Liang set his glass down.

“So we prepare for both outcomes,” he said quietly.

“Speed—and protection.”