Chapter 20: The System of Rewards and Punishments

Now only Xiaohui and Wang Qiang were left in the room.

When Lu Dahai had been here earlier, everything had felt fine; everyone spoke their mind. But the moment he left, Wang Qiang suddenly realized that the atmosphere had turned strangely awkward. He and Xiaohui barely knew each other, and now, with just a man and a woman alone in the room, it felt as though anything they said would be inappropriate.

Instinctively, he stole a glance at Xiaohui, trying to gauge her reaction.

As it happened, Xiaohui did the very same, and their eyes met. To a bystander, it might have looked as if Wang Qiang had been caught staring at something he shouldn't.

Wang Qiang gave an embarrassed smile and nodded at her.

Xiaohui, a little awkward herself, nodded back.

A heavy silence fell, broken only by the sound of rain tapping against the windowpane. The room felt so cold and empty that even their breathing seemed too loud, the atmosphere unbearable.

"Um..." Wang Qiang, desperate to break the ice, fished for any topic. "How much did this computer cost to buy?"

"I'm not sure. Old Lu brought it back from the capital," Xiaohui replied.

Wang Qiang glanced over, vaguely noticing her absent-mindedly running her fingers—painted a deep purple—across her palm. "I’d guess it must cost several thousand, maybe up to ten thousand yuan, right? Boss Lu must be really well-off, to afford something that expensive."

"Well-off? Hardly. He took over this factory and is still in debt for seven or eight hundred thousand. And we haven't seen any profits yet," Xiaohui replied, a hint of resentment in her tone.

"It’ll get better," Wang Qiang offered, trying to reassure her. "Didn’t you say you’re planning to produce metallic card clothing? Maybe things will turn around then."

He knew perfectly well what would become of the Metalworks Factory; his words were not merely to comfort her. According to his memory, Lu Dahai would suffer through four lean years, but after landing a big order, his fortunes would soar.

"It’s not about what we’re making," Xiaohui said, her delicate, oval face clouded with worry. "You saw it when you arrived—just look at those workers. It wouldn’t matter if we were producing gold bars; with those employees, we’d still lose money."

Wang Qiang didn’t feel it was his place to comment on the factory’s staff, so he just nodded vaguely.

Xiaohui, clearly needing to vent, pointed toward the northern workshop. "You have no idea. Those guys are all seasoned loafers from the old state-owned enterprise. No other factory would take them. When Lu wanted to take over, the town made it clear: the place could be handed over cheap, but only if he agreed to keep those workers. So, officially, they’re still considered state enterprise employees. We just pay their salaries. The contract states that unless they’re absent for over three days, we can’t fire them."

Wang Qiang knew a bit about this. The factory’s lack of progress over four years was largely due to those old hands. It wasn’t until the mass layoffs of 1998 that they had no choice but to buckle down and work.

Wang Qiang had always been clear about favors and grievances. Boss Lu had looked after him on more than one occasion. Even if their dealings were business, Lu’s help had made a difference when Wang Qiang was struggling. He thought for a moment and decided to give a gentle suggestion. Whether or not they would listen, that was their business.

"You said earlier that you’re the ones paying the salaries, right?"

"Yeah, that’s right. They got three hundred a month at the state factory, plus benefits—probably about three fifty in total. But our setup is small, can’t compare to the state. So, if they don’t work, they don’t get the benefits—just a flat three hundred." Xiaohui sounded utterly resigned.

Wang Qiang was getting a clearer picture. He asked, "If the workers break the rules and you dock their pay, does the town get involved?"

"No, as long as we don’t make arbitrary deductions, the town doesn’t care." She sighed. "But Lu and I don’t dare to just dock their pay. If they kick up a fuss, it gets ugly."

The town didn’t care? That made things easier.

Turning this over in his mind, Wang Qiang set his cup down, casually suggesting, "I hear foreign companies all use modern management systems. Maybe your factory could learn from that."

"Modern management system? What’s that?" Xiaohui looked at him with interest.

In fact, as early as the 1950s, some large state-owned enterprises in the country had introduced such systems, though for well-known reasons, they’d fallen out of favor. It wasn’t until the mid-1990s, when foreign technology and management methods were widely adopted, that modern management became a hot topic again. Now, in 1994, most enterprises didn’t even have a concept of it—too few people understood.

Wang Qiang didn’t know all the theory, but from his former life as a minor supervisor in a factory, he understood a thing or two. He offered a general explanation: "Basically, it means setting up a clear system of rewards and penalties. If workers perform well, they get bonuses. If they make mistakes, they get fined."

Xiaohui grew more interested. "Can you be more specific?"

"I only know the basics, so take it as you will—maybe it’ll be useful, maybe not." Wang Qiang prefaced. "For example, lateness or leaving early: set the start and end times. If someone is even a minute late, that counts, and you decide how much to deduct. If they’re late beyond a certain limit, it’s half a day’s absence—deduct half a day’s pay. Same for leaving early."

Xiaohui’s eyes lit up. As a law graduate, she really had no experience with this and eagerly requested more. "What else?"

"If there are penalties, there should also be rewards. That’s how you motivate people," Wang Qiang continued, gesturing. "Say a worker exceeds their production quota—they get a bonus. If they keep the rate of finished products within a certain range, there’s another bonus. You’d need to set the detailed rules yourselves."

Xiaohui hesitated. "Would this really work? What if the workers cause trouble?"

Wang Qiang chuckled. "Every family has rules, every country has laws, and a factory should have its own system. What grounds would they have to protest? It’s not like you’re being unfair. If they work well, they earn more; if not, they get less. The diligent ones profit, the slackers lose out. It’s only fair. Even if they went to the capital to complain, the logic would still hold. A factory shouldn’t wait for workers to take initiative—it should find ways to motivate them."

Hearing this analysis, Xiaohui realized he was right. She and Lu had been intimidated by the workers’ status as ‘state employees’ and had never thought of it this way. Why should those who work hard and those who slack off be treated the same? She asked herself: if she were a diligent worker and saw others loafing about for the same ten yuan a day, would she have any motivation to work harder?

Of course not.

The principle was simple; it just took an outsider’s perspective to see it. Wang Qiang’s words were like timely rain, waking Xiaohui up.

Wang Qiang went on, "Rewards and penalties are only part of it. Modern management also includes separating administrative, managerial, and operational functions…"

He shared everything he knew—management science, business operations, organizational structures. Though lacking in detail, it was more than sufficient for the current needs of the Metalworks Factory.

The more Xiaohui listened, the brighter her eyes became. By the time Wang Qiang explained that such management could boost factory performance by over thirty percent, her heart was pounding—she felt as though she’d struck gold. For a moment, she even wondered if Wang Qiang had been sent by Providence to save her and Lu. The earlier suggestion about producing metallic card clothing had been good, but its results were yet to be seen. This, though, was different—modern management sounded like something that could bring immediate improvement. For a fleeting second, she truly believed Wang Qiang was their lucky star.

Just then, with a loud click, the door swung open. Lu Dahai stormed in, cursing, "That damned old Zhen—makes me want to kick him to death!"

Wang Qiang looked up to see Boss Lu carrying a navy-blue women’s purse.

Xiaohui immediately asked, "Was he slacking off again?"

"Slacking off doesn’t begin to cover it." Lu Dahai slammed the door in frustration. "When I went down, he was sitting by the machine, drinking tea and reading the paper—looked more like the boss than I do!" Grumbling, he opened the purse, took out a wallet, and pulled out six or seven blue bills, then a green fifty, handing them to Wang Qiang. "Here’s seven hundred and fifty. Count it."

At last, payment in hand.

Trying to conceal his excitement, Wang Qiang took the cash, quickly counted it—exactly seven hundred and fifty yuan. He balled it up, stuffed it in his pocket, then stood and lifted the turtle from the lead bucket. "Where would you like it?"

Lu Dahai ducked under the desk and pulled out a pink washbasin. "Put it here." He’d been in a foul mood, but seeing Wang Qiang settle the turtle inside, he became more polite. "I’ve still got things to take care of, so I can’t entertain you. Next time you bring more turtles, just come straight here."

"Alright, I’ll be on my way," Wang Qiang replied, picking up his bucket and heading for the door.

Xiaohui called after him, "Wait, wait—what’s your name?"

Wang Qiang was already at the door, but turned and smiled. "Wang Qiang."

The door closed behind him.

Once Wang Qiang had left, Lu Dahai grew sour and jealous, calling out his wife’s name, "Qin Xiaohui, why’d you ask him his name?"

Qin Xiaohui was sharp; she understood his meaning at once and shot back, annoyed, "What are you imagining now?"

Lu Dahai was pushing forty; his wife was only twenty-four—young and beautiful. He was always on edge as it was, and seeing her ask Wang Qiang’s name made him even more uneasy. "So why’d you ask for no reason?"

"Why are you so suspicious?" A flash of anger crossed Qin Xiaohui’s gentle face. "If I really wanted to do anything behind your back, would I ask his name right in front of you? Honestly, if I were going to cheat on you, could you keep tabs on me, busy as you are at the factory all day? Listen, Lu Dahai, if you keep this up, I really might give you a green hat to wear!" Her cheeks flushed with anger, hands trembling. In those days, women cared deeply for their reputation; even in the 21st century, no woman would take kindly to being accused of infidelity by her husband.

Lu Dahai wilted, quickly stepping forward to hug her and soothe, "Don’t be mad, I was just asking. Why such a big reaction?"

Qin Xiaohui pulled away, folding her arms and turning cold, refusing to speak.

"I was wrong, I was wrong—okay?" Lu Dahai pleaded, raising his right hand in a vow. "I, Lu Dahai, swear never to doubt Qin Xiaohui again. Please, just forgive me this once, alright?"

Still, she ignored him.

With no other option, Lu Dahai coaxed and cajoled her for a long while.

A woman’s heart is soft; after a while, Qin Xiaohui finally waved him off impatiently. "Enough, stop it. You’re so annoying."

"Alright, alright, I’ll stop," Lu Dahai said, grinning.

"Didn’t you just ask why I wanted to know his name?" Qin Xiaohui brought the subject up herself.

Lu Dahai tried to smooth things over. "It’s fine if you don’t want to say—I trust you." Though, in truth, if she hadn’t explained, he wouldn’t have slept a wink tonight.

"There’s nothing I can’t say," she replied, rolling her eyes, and related in detail her conversation with Wang Qiang about the rewards and penalties system.

Lu Dahai’s lingering resentment faded as he listened. When she quoted Wang Qiang’s words—"Even if they take it all the way to the capital, it’s still fair"—he slapped his thigh. "Exactly! That’s the truth!"

"Now you see why I asked his name?" Qin Xiaohui explained her thoughts. "I really think he’s our lucky star. The things that have been giving us headaches, Wang Qiang solved so easily. Don’t you agree?"

Lu Dahai, mind still on the rewards and penalties system, didn’t quite register her words until she asked again. Then, he brightened, "Right, right, our lucky star!" Smacking his lips, he frowned, "We’ve got the general idea, but how do we design the system? And just talking isn’t enough—it needs to be put into practice. But you and I don’t really know how. That’s the hard part."

Qin Xiaohui offered a suggestion. "Lu, let me give you an idea. See what you think."

"Go ahead," Lu Dahai replied.

She analyzed, "Since the idea came from Xiao Wang, he must know how it works, right?" Seeing Lu nod, she continued, "We don’t know how, but we could invite him to help. Offer him a good salary, hire him as a manager. What do you think?"

Lu Dahai weighed the pros and cons and immediately agreed, "Alright, let’s go find him right now." He was eager—he’d long wanted to deal with those old loafers.

Qin Xiaohui pulled him back. "What’s the rush? Do you know where he lives? Go ask around, then we’ll go together."