Chen Weidong is dead.
The last drop of blood was sucked out by relatives, and he collapsed in the hospital corridor with only two dollars and seventy cents left in his pocket.
Open your eyes again, 1994.
His mother-in-law was asking for 2,000 yuan in re-employment fees to "turn around" his gambling brother-in-law.
This time, he chose to overturn the table.
[Rebirth memory activation]
He knows what Heisan will buy next month.
He also knows whose hands Hei San will fall into next year.
Liu Mazi's purchase price was accurate to the nearest cent, and the time when Deputy Director Zhou's son failed to pass the technical secondary school was accurate to the sky.
Others compete for connections and funds, but what he competes for is the information gap in the next thirty years.
With a start-up capital of 2,000 yuan, he refurbished the damaged and damaged clothing into a hot-selling distressed jacket.
"This fabric... Doesn't feel right?"
"Sister, this is called washing process. It is the most popular in Hong Kong City this year."
Setting up a stall on the first day cost 327 yuan.
The goods were cleared in the first week and the net profit was 4,200 yuan.
In the first month, he grabbed a prime stall at the provincial capital textile market and forced Heisan, a local snake, to cut off his supply on the spot——
Then he discovered that he only had forty-seven yuan and three cents left in his pocket.
My wife saved two cents a piece from helping others mend clothes.
"I don't know much... I can add a little bit."
Chen Weidong smoothed out the cents one by one and put away the coins one by one.
From then on, if anyone laid a finger on his wife or children, he would break off his entire arm.
And what's even weirder is - in the dark, there is a man wearing rubber shoes, who keeps handing him a knife...
