Han Chunlei said: "I can give you a hand-painted package." ”

"Hand-painted packaging?" Zhang Xiangde asked.

Han Chunlei explained: "According to the rough material of kraft paper, the manual hand-drawn pattern is on the outer packaging. I've dealt with Hong Kong customers before, and what they love most is this kind of handmade stuff. They call this haute couture. ”

"Haute couture?" Zhang Xiangde obviously didn't understand.

"For example," Mr. Han said, "in Hong Kong, the more wealthy and powerful the bosses, the more they don't wear suits bought in department stores." They only go to the artisan shop to order suits. It's called different, it's unique!"

"Yes, yes, I've heard of the handmade suits you said. This is the same as the reason for singing on the stage in the past, only famous and big horns will specialize in hand-customizing costumes. ”

Zhang Xiangde's village is not a bun, people are knowledgeable and capable, so as soon as Han Chunlei said this, he understood.

Immediately, he said: "Chun Lei Zai, you can say this, it shows that you are very capable, and I can rest assured that this matter will be handed over to you." Xiongzai, you have to watch this matter more, this is a big deal in our Hubei Village!"

The following sentence, of course, is to remind Ah Xiong, keep an eye on Han Chunlei's packaging, don't mess up your appearance in front of Hong Kong people.

Ah Xiong said with a smile: "Don't worry, village chief, I'll be watching the whole time." ”

"The village chief, we'll make up our minds. Han Chunlei stood up and stretched out his hand to Zhang Xiangde.

Zhang Xiangde also got up and stretched out his hand, shook it hard, and asked: "Do it well, this thing is done well, and it will always be done in the future!"

"Understood. Han Chunlei nodded solemnly.

Afterwards, Zhang Xiangde sent them out with a smile.

Out of the village chief's office, out of the village committee's blue brick house, to the edge of the village road, Ah Xiong couldn't help but ask: "Chunlei, what kind of high-end customization did you just say, is it reliable?"

"Reliable! Why is it not reliable! Brother Xiong, don't worry. You help me vouch in front of the village chief, can I still smash your face?" Han Chunlei looked like he was in his chest.

His idea of solving this packaging problem is already clear at this time.

The printing houses are all state-run, and he is self-employed, so there must be no way.

However, doesn't the Hubei Village Committee only need 100 tea gift bags?

Then simply find someone to paint by hand on brown paper.

Twenty days, 100 paintings, no problem at all.

As for the hand-drawn candidates...... He already had the right person in mind.

......

......

After returning to Ah Xiong's house, Han Chunlei went up to the third floor.

"Brother Han!"

Liu Meijun heard a knock on the door, opened the door and saw that it was Han Chunlei, somewhat surprised, "Please come in!"

"No, no. On the big night, Han Chunlei was embarrassed to enter the single girl's room, so he just stood outside the door and said, "Just a few words, I'll leave after I finish." ”

"Brother Han, what is the matter?" Liu Meijun said obediently.

"The village committee of Hubei Village plans to order 100 bags of tea from me to give to Hong Kong guests......

Han Chunlei briefly introduced what happened, "So, I want to see if you have time to help me draw the packaging of this batch of tea." ”

"There's time. However, I'm afraid that the painting will not be good, and it will delay your business, Brother Han!" Liu Meijun frowned slightly, a little unconfident.

Han Chunlei laughed and said, "You don't have to worry. No matter how bad you are, it's better than a bare kraft paper package, right? Besides, you're a top student in the art college. Let you help me draw a picture on the tea bag, that's Qu Cai!"

"Brother Han, don't say that, haven't I been admitted yet?" Liu Meijun was praised by Han Chunlei, and her face instantly rose with a touch of shyness.

"Liu Meijun, Chairman Mao said that excessive modesty is equal to pride!"

Han Chunlei teased Liu Meijun for a moment, and then said: "Isn't your professional score only a few points behind! Do you think, there are 900 million people in the country, how many talents are qualified to take the American college examination? Raise your head and hold your chest high, Brother Han has confidence in you!"

"That'...... Shall I try it?"

After Liu Meijun took over this task, she asked, "Brother Han, I will do my best." But my mind is blank right now, what should I draw on the paper bag?"

"Hmm...... West Lake Longjing is our specialty of Hangzhou. That's the only idea I can offer you. For the rest, I'm afraid you can only rely on your own imagination and design freely. A hundred hand-painted copies of the outer packaging bag, you don't have to be the same for each copy, we are hand-painted, not printed. Han Chunlei gave some relevant suggestions.

"Well, good!"

Liu Meijun nodded cautiously, and the matter was settled.

However, Han Chunlei did not discuss the issue of labor fees with Liu Meijun.

He knew that according to Liu Meijun's character, he always felt that he owed himself a great favor. At this time, she told her about labor fees, and she definitely didn't want it, and she didn't even accept the task.

It's better to wait for this deal to be completed and give her the labor fee directly.

......

In the following days, Liu Meijun came home from work at the coil factory every day, and went into her room to help Han Chunlei's tea packaging be hand-painted.

In the middle of the night for several consecutive nights, Han Chunlei could see in the courtyard that the light in Liu Meijun's room was always on.

Almost on the fifteenth day, Liu Meijun finally completed the task of hand-painting 100 wrapping paper bags.

It was five days earlier than the time agreed between Han Chunlei and Zhang Xiangde, the village chief.

That evening, Han Chunlei reviewed Liu Meijun's work results in the room.

Liu Meijun stood aside, she watched Han Chunlei pick up one bag after another to check, but she didn't say a word, and couldn't help but ask a little nervously: "Brother Han, what's wrong? Is it because I didn't draw it well?"