“Zhang Feili’s question is actually quite sharp—it shows she’s really put some thought into this,” Xiao Liang said with a smile, studying her pretty, slightly airheaded face.

“Bah, I asked because I *don’t* understand,” Zhang Feili shot back, her cheeks flushing pink. “Stop teasing me, Director Xiao.”

Even she could tell he was mocking her.

Xiao Liang stood up and handed out copies of a map of Xijiang City to everyone.

“Alright, no more jokes. It’s not realistic to have everyone comb every inch of Xijiang in a short time. But take a look at the map. The urban area of Xijiang has nearly 800,000 residents, yet it only covers about seventy square kilometers. Do you know how big Yunshe Town is? Fifty-six square kilometers. Smaller than you expected, right?”

He paused, letting that sink in.

“As for the number of small shops, convenience stores, and neighborhood retailers scattered through those streets and alleys—don’t think I’ve secretly counted them myself. There’s no data available. But I’d estimate at least eight hundred, if not a thousand. Add in all the little eateries tucked into corners, and the number only goes up. I’m not some immortal, and I don’t know any qigong tricks like Zhang Feili seems to think,” he added with a grin, “but there are ten of us. If we walk every street in the city and identify all those retail points, how long would it take? Is it really impossible?”

Zhang Feili parted her lips slightly, already beginning to guess where he was going.

Xiao Liang didn’t keep them in suspense.

“Let’s work with a rough estimate of a thousand retail outlets in the city and build our plan around that. Beyond standard promotion—ads, posters, contacting distributors and wholesalers—the key task ahead is this: the ten of us will divide the city into zones and personally cover every corner, locating these small shops, stores, and eateries.”

He looked around the table, making sure everyone was following.

“Then we go in as customers and ask to buy Nanting Lake apple juice or fresh orange juice—products they don’t yet carry. Seventy square kilometers sounds big, and a thousand outlets sounds like a lot. But break it down: each person covers about seven square kilometers and visits a hundred shops. How long would that really take? Is it truly unmanageable?”

“No,” he continued, answering his own question. “At each shop, the task is simple. Ask if they stock Nanting Lake apple or orange juice. Mention how good it tasted when you had it before. Say a few words, then leave. Come back every two or three days and repeat. In fact, one full sweep won’t even take that long. If you move quickly, visiting eighty to a hundred shops in a day is no problem.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“Now think about it—if these shop owners keep getting customers asking for Nanting Lake juices, but they don’t have any in stock, what will they do? Won’t they start asking their distributors or wholesalers if they can source it?”

The people seated around the table, already suffering in the stifling heat, were now stunned into silence.

Could the market really be manipulated like this?

Xiao Liang lit another cigarette, took a couple of drags, and waited for them to collect themselves before continuing.

“Before large-scale advertising creates genuine market demand—and right now, we don’t have the money for that—we still have to meet our sales and cash collection targets on schedule. So we create demand ourselves. We use our legs, our voices. We go out there again and again, asking for the product, forcing these shops to feel the pressure of unmet demand. That information will flow back upstream to distributors and wholesalers.”

He tapped ash into a tray.

“As for pretending to be customers—you need to put some effort into it. Be convincing. If you’re not good with words or feel awkward, that’s fine—just ask a couple of questions and leave. But take note of each place you visit, what kind of person the owner is. Observe and record. People like Zhang Feili, who have a sweet tongue, can chat a bit more—but don’t overact. The core goal is simple: make these shop owners believe there’s strong demand for Nanting Lake juice. Make them feel that every day they don’t stock it, they’re losing dozens in profit.”

“Doesn’t that count as fraud?” Zhang Feili whispered to Wu Qiyan beside her.

It was the instinctive, plainspoken reaction of an ordinary person in that era. Xiao Liang pretended not to hear.

At his age, he couldn’t expect to command real authority overnight. As long as they followed the plan, that was enough.

He continued:

“Alright, everyone, divide up your areas first. Discuss anything that needs attention. Tomorrow, the first step is to map out the distribution of shops in your zones and keep records—don’t rush into action yet. If you’re unsure, form small teams of two or three and test it out for a few days. We’ve got two months—that’s plenty of time. The early groundwork needs to be thorough.”

He took another drag.

“We don’t have much funding, so full-page headline ads are out of the question. But cheap classified ads—we should run as many as possible. TV ads too. Right now, we can only afford daytime subtitle ads on weekdays, which should be relatively cheap. How many consumers will actually see them at home during those hours? That’s not our concern for now. What matters is that when we’re out canvassing, the TVs sitting in the corners of these small shops are playing our ad. Think about the effect that creates.”

He continued methodically:

“Large-scale outdoor advertising isn’t feasible in the short term, but we can focus on wholesale markets and trading company areas—hire temporary workers to hand out flyers. The key is to make distributors feel our presence, to sense that our marketing push is strong. To sum it up: we use every possible method to pump demand signals into both retail and distribution channels. If anyone has better ideas, speak up. Let’s pool our thoughts.”

By the 1990s, the country was rapidly transitioning into a commodity-driven market, and advertising was beginning to borrow from Western practices. But compared to what it would become decades later, marketing was still in its infancy.

More importantly, consumers—and even distributors—had yet to develop any resistance to these tactics.

It was an age of innocence, where someone could go on television, pose as an expert, and claim that a twenty-yuan bottle of miracle liquid could cure cancer—and countless people would believe it without question.

How could Xu Lihuan, Wu Qiyan, Zhang Feili, and the others not be dumbfounded upon grasping Xiao Liang’s reverse marketing strategy?

And yet, with the juice factory already pushed to this brink, they had little room left to argue whether it counted as deception.