Chapter 33: Rising to Become the Landlord

The clouds had yet to blanket the sky, but the ground was already shrouded in darkness. The scorching, dazzling afternoon had suddenly transformed into what felt like night. Sensing an imminent downpour, Wang Qiang hurried his pace alongside Boss Lu, heading for the Jin Gong Machinery Factory. Just as they reached the gatehouse, a thunderclap erupted, and lightning, accompanied by a torrential rain, sounded the trumpet to wash the world clean.

Inside the gatehouse.

No sooner had they entered than Wang Qiang saw Rao Xiaoyan embroiled in a dispute with Old Zhen.

“No, President Liao explicitly said you’re not allowed in,” Rao Xiaoyan insisted, her voice unwavering.

Old Zhen retorted with a barb, “What, are you having an affair with that Liao fellow, working this hard for him?”

The other three men burst out laughing.

Rao Xiaoyan’s face turned pale with fury. She pointed a trembling finger at Old Zhen, nearly choking on rage. “You—!”

Just then, Old Yang spotted the boss and Wang Qiang stepping over the threshold and quickly called out, “Boss.”

Women these days were especially concerned with their reputations, and Rao Xiaoyan, now in her forties, was no exception. Having just been insulted by Old Zhen, her chest heaved as she struggled to quell the urge to lash out.

Wang Qiang’s impression of Old Zhen fell even further. It was one thing to be careless at work, but to have no filter as a person—such a man would get himself beaten sooner or later.

“Zhen Youde, Zheng Dong, Huang Yan, Xia Xiaoming, you four go home and rest for now. Come back for the night shift,” Lu Dahai said sternly.

Hearing Old Zhen’s name, Wang Qiang couldn’t help but chuckle. Just now he’d thought the man was lacking in virtue, only to find his name meant “one with virtue.”

“What are you laughing at?” Old Zhen snapped.

Wang Qiang ignored him. Was this guy a mad dog, biting everyone he saw? What’s wrong with a little laugh? Just wait—he’d deal with him soon enough; tomorrow would not be a good day for Old Zhen.

Lu Dahai, defending Wang Qiang, barked, “Didn’t you hear what I said to you?”

Old Zhen stammered, then quickly replied, “Yes, yes.”

The portly Zheng Dong grumbled, “I came all the way here, only to be told to switch to the night shift?”

Lu Dahai glared at him. “Take it or leave it. If you won’t work, get lost!”

Zheng Dong wanted to argue, but Old Zhen quickly drew him away with a beaming smile. “Old Zheng, night shifts are just fine—come on, let’s go.” He threw an arm around Zheng Dong and led him off.

The other two followed Old Zhen’s lead, grinning as they trailed out the door.

Once outside, Zheng Dong retrieved a raincoat from his bicycle basket, pulling it on with a sour face. “Old Zhen, what are you up to?”

Old Zhen grinned, exposing yellowed teeth, and gestured back at the gatehouse. “What do you think? Kicking up a fuss in town got us somewhere, didn’t it? Lu Dahai caved. Don’t complain—do whatever you like during the day, and at night we’ll find a spot to catch up on some good sleep.”

“But the new reward-and-punishment policy…” the burly Xia Xiaoming hesitated.

Old Zhen snorted. “What reward-and-punishment policy? We were half an hour late this morning—did anything happen to us? Did Lu Dahai say a word? No. Now, go home, have lunch, and we’ll play a few hands of cards afterward.”

“Exactly,” agreed the tall, skinny Huang Yan.

Zheng Dong’s face finally broke into a smile too. Exchanging a glance with Xia Xiaoming, he thought, So what if he’s the boss? He still had to yield to them.

…

Night had fallen.

Rain poured from the heavens as though the sky itself had collapsed. There had been a heavy shower in the afternoon, but it stopped by dusk; no one expected it to return with such vengeance around midnight. The wild wind lashed the rain, like countless whips beating savagely at the windows, which groaned in protest.

Inside the grinding wheel workshop.

Though it was pitch-black outside, Old Zhen was in high spirits as he strode in with his three companions. Thanks to the new reward-and-punishment system, the night shift workers had all arrived early, and seeing the four men, their eyes filled with surprise.

An elderly man changing into his uniform called out, “Old Zhen, what brings you here?”

A dozen or so workers glanced over, puzzled.

Old Zhen patted his belly with a swagger. “Here for the night shift.”

“Night shift?” a plump-faced woman asked in confusion. “Weren’t you guys on the day shift?”

Xia Xiaoming dragged over a bench, sat down, and yawned. “Switched to nights.”

“What happened?”

“Yeah, I heard you were late this morning. Didn’t Lu Dahai punish you?”

While a young man kept diligently at work, the others crowded around, curious. They were eager to know, partly about Old Zhen and his group, but more so whether the factory’s new policies had any teeth.

“Move over,” Old Zhen said, patting Xia Xiaoming’s shoulder. He sat, took a sip from his bottle, and leisurely replied, “Punished for what? That Liao character thinks he’s somebody. This morning he said we couldn’t come in, so me and Old Xia went to the town to make a scene. Lu Dahai immediately came running and switched us to the night shift.” Adding embellishments, he recounted the morning’s events, even boasting about slamming his fist on the table and shouting at President Liao, soaking in the awe-struck looks from the others.

Xia Xiaoming and the fellows chimed in, acting as if they were triumphant heroes. The others exclaimed in admiration, and before long, the subject turned to Rao Xiaoyan. They made lewd speculations about Liao Wenfeng and her, and tossed around crude jokes about women in their forties being insatiable. The women in the workshop giggled and joined in the banter.

Jin Gong Machinery Factory was not large.

Word of these events quickly spread throughout the night shift crew. When everyone heard that Old Zhen and his group had suffered no consequences, and saw the rain pouring outside, they relaxed. Aside from a few conscientious workers, most whiled away the hours drinking tea and chatting, some even gambling on cardboard mats. As for Old Zhen and his friends, once tired of bragging, they sprawled out in a corner, snoring away.

Little did they know, every bit of this was being watched by three pairs of eyes outside.

…

Outside the workshop.

Three figures, clad in raincoats and black rubber boots, watched the grinding wheel workshop intently.

The rain was coming down in sheets, stinging as it struck. Yet Wang Qiang, instead of being annoyed, was in high spirits. He pointed at the brightly lit interior, where a crowd had gathered around a card game, and turned to ask, “Secretary Li, what do you think?”

Secretary Li’s thin body trembled with fury, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles whitened. He muttered through gritted teeth, “Those bastards!” He’d known what these men were like, or else no other factory would have rejected them, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined they’d be this shameless.

Loafing on the job was one thing.

But a crowd watching a card game?

What kind of workers were these!

Remembering how he’d spoken up for Old Zhen and his companions that morning, Secretary Li was furious with himself. How could he have defended such scum? He felt like charging in and tearing into them, but he’d promised Wang Qiang he wouldn’t make any move tonight. Suppressing his anger, he forced himself to wait.

Amid the drumming rain, Lu Dahai, emboldened at last, teased, “Secretary, should I fire people like this or not? If you say no, you can be the factory director—I really can’t manage them.”

Secretary Li spat out, “Fire them! All four who were playing cards tonight—let’s have them dismissed tomorrow, I’ll strike them from the roster myself!”

Wang Qiang and Lu Dahai exchanged a glance, their faces lit by the faint glow from the workshop, both smiling.

“Let’s not rush. We should keep watching—otherwise, when we send them back to the town, you might suspect we’re just firing them on some made-up pretext,” Wang Qiang said.

Secretary Li snorted at the workshop, said nothing, and followed Wang Qiang and Lu Dahai. Even though the scenes in the batching and grinding workshops were a mess, he still held onto a sliver of hope—not every worker could be like that, surely?

The three chatted as they headed for the kiln workshop.

It wasn’t far, but the branches along the wall were a nuisance, and Wang Qiang had to stoop to get through.

Soon, they reached their destination.

Peering through the window into the kiln workshop, Secretary Li’s face darkened like the bottom of a pot.

Inside, seven or eight boiler workers had simply shut the furnaces down and were sprawled about, sound asleep beside the boilers.

Wang Qiang clicked his tongue. “At least this crew isn’t playing cards.”

Stung by the sarcasm, Secretary Li trembled all over and could take it no longer. He hurried forward, intent on storming in to curse them out.

Lu Dahai was quick, grabbing his arm. “Secretary, what are you doing?”

Secretary Li ground his teeth. “I can’t watch this anymore—I have to go in there and give those bastards a piece of my mind!” Now he understood why Wang Qiang and Lu Dahai had challenged him earlier. With workers like these, who wouldn’t be driven mad? If he were Lu Dahai, he’d either sell the factory in anger or be driven to an early grave. The fact that Lu Dahai had endured this long was nothing short of miraculous.

Wang Qiang quickly interjected, “Secretary, what did you promise me before we came? We agreed—no matter what happens tonight, not a word. Don’t lose your head.”

Secretary Li was livid—he could have devoured those workers alive. Was there a single one left with any conscience? He even felt ashamed, ashamed for these workers who earned their wages with no integrity, and ashamed of himself for always pushing people onto Lu Dahai without ever bothering to learn what was happening.

He sighed heavily, utterly disheartened. “Do as you see fit. I’ll leave now.” He couldn’t bear to watch any longer; disappointment had hollowed him out. He might as well let ignorance be his refuge.

Wang Qiang and Lu Dahai walked him to the gate.

As soon as he was gone, Lu Dahai, standing under the gatehouse eaves, beamed and gave Wang Qiang a big thumbs-up. “Great idea! Did you see Secretary Li’s face? It was black as coal—ha!”

Wang Qiang shook the water from his raincoat, grinning. “Now that the town has washed its hands of these workers, it’s time for us to press the advantage. We need to give them such a shock that they’ll never dare slack off again.”

Lu Dahai eagerly sought guidance. “How do we press the advantage?”

Wang Qiang winked. “By making an example. I’ll draft a speech for you—memorize it, and tomorrow just follow my lead. You’ll impress them with your authority and show both kindness and strength.”

Lu Dahai perked up, no longer sleepy. “Good! If this works out, I’ll give you a proper thank-you.” Only a short while ago, he’d resented Wang Qiang for letting Old Zhen and the others stir up trouble in town, but now, he found Wang Qiang more agreeable than ever. Suddenly, he recalled something Qin Xiaohui once said: “Little Wang is our lucky star.” More than a lucky star—he was a savior sent from heaven.

At that moment, Lu Dahai even fantasized about the imposing figure he’d cut tomorrow. At last, the boss by name only was about to become the master in truth—the peasant would finally rise to be the landlord!