Chapter 34: A Clear Conscience

In the early morning, the rain had already stopped. The azure sky looked like a sapphire freshly rinsed with clear water. After a night’s sleep, old Zhen opened the workshop window. The fresh and pleasant air instantly invigorated him, completely dispelling the lingering drowsiness of waking up. A cool, musty breeze brushed against his face, and he felt energized, filled with boundless enthusiasm to embrace the glorious day ahead—well, to embrace a day of playing cards.

Suddenly, a stir arose in the workshop. The workers all pretended to be busy, one after another. Old Zhen was puzzled, only to see two people enter through the doorway. The one in front was Boss Lu, with his shiny bald head. Beside him was a young man who looked familiar—oh, it was the guy from yesterday, the one who’d smiled for no reason and whom Zhen had snapped at without a response. He still had no idea who he was.

It was only seven-thirty, yet the workshop suddenly seemed abuzz with activity. Why did Lu Dahai look so worn out? Had he overexerted himself last night with his beautiful wife? Old Zhen guessed maliciously. As for Wang Qiang, he simply ignored him.

Lu Dahai, who had just rushed in, announced loudly, “Don’t be in a hurry to go home later. We’ll have a meeting at eight o’clock.” With that, he turned on his heel with Wang Qiang and headed out, apparently to notify the other workshop.

Old Zhen wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but as the young man in the patched, plain clothes left, he seemed to flash him a strange smile. What are you grinning about? What’s so funny?

At once, a chorus of complaints broke out in the workshop.

“What’s going on?”

“After a night shift, we still have to attend a meeting?”

“Does Lu Dahai have any consideration for us workers?”

Old Zhen felt a bit disgruntled himself, but he scoffed inwardly at his colleagues’ remarks. After a full night’s sleep, do they still need sympathy? Still, he was one of the slackers himself and wouldn’t voice such things. For some reason, though, an ominous feeling crept over him, and he couldn’t shake the memory of that young man’s strange smile, appearing twice in quick succession.

Is something about to happen?

It shouldn’t be. He tried to reassure himself, though unease gnawed at him.

As old Zhen waited anxiously, the morning shift workers gradually arrived. Not only that, but to his surprise, quite a few from the swing shift hurried in as well. Upon asking, he learned that Lu Dahai had personally gone to everyone’s homes around six in the morning to notify them.

At this, old Zhen’s heart skipped a beat.

Something’s wrong.

There’s bound to be big trouble at the factory.

Though he didn’t know exactly what, he had a vague sense that it couldn’t be anything good.

Sure enough, half an hour later, someone came to tell everyone to gather at the open space by the front gate for a morning meeting.

…

At the front gate.

A gentle early breeze drifted by, and the weak morning sunlight fell on everyone, feeling powerless. No one made a sound; all eyes were fixed on Lu Dahai’s plump face, searching for clues, but there was nothing to be read.

Finally, when two or three hundred people had formed a neat square, Lu Dahai spoke. “You all go to the front as well,” he said, gesturing with his mouth to Liao Wenfeng, Rao Xiaoyan, and the other leaders.

Liao Wenfeng nodded. “Yes.” He led more than a dozen leaders to stand at the head of the crowd.

But the workers were puzzled—while all the leaders stood in front, why was that young man still swaggering at the gatehouse door? Who was he anyway?

Still lost in their confusion, the crowd was suddenly startled by a sharp rebuke ringing in their ears; a few people almost jumped out of their skin.

“How dare you!” Lu Dahai, furious, jabbed his finger at the crowd.

What was this about?

Scolding people so early in the morning?

Lu Xiaoqing exchanged a look with the woman with the crooked teeth.

Many present were baffled by the scolding.

Had Lu Dahai lost his mind, calling everyone here for a tongue-lashing?

“What were you all doing last night?” Lu Dahai tilted his head, then suddenly raised it, shouting, “What were you doing!”

The morning and swing shifts were clueless—what did he mean, what were they doing? But the night shift workers all shuddered; they knew all too well what they’d been up to.

“Playing cards! Sleeping! A man and a woman sneaking off to the warehouse to fool around! Do any of you look like proper workers?” Lu Dahai railed, “Do you deserve the salary I pay you? The three meat meals a week I guarantee for you? Ask yourselves, is there another factory anywhere with food as good as ours? Is there?”

People looked at each other.

Old Zhen thought, Didn’t you already know we sleep and play cards?

Xiaoming Xia, Zheng Dong, and Huang Yan dismissed Lu Dahai’s words as bluster.

But then Lu Dahai suddenly smiled. “Mixing workshop, seventeen people on night shift—I have to fire six today. Grinding workshop, I have to fire eight. And from the other workshops, all told, I’ll have to fire at least thirty people. Later, take a look at these thirty—aren’t they all folks who’ve worked here twenty years, pillars of their families, just a few years away from retirement and a peaceful old age!”

At the mention of layoffs, the crowd erupted in shock.

“They’ve gone rotten, and my heart is breaking!” Lu Dahai cut through the uproar with a sharp voice. “When I took over the factory from the town, I thought things would only get better, but instead, it’s only gotten worse. My heart aches! I still owe upwards of seven or eight hundred thousand outside. You take my wages, don’t you feel ashamed? I wish I could sell the factory right now!” At this, he strode up to old Zhen, Xiaoming Xia, and others, wagging his finger so hard that his spittle sprayed them. “And you—all of you standing smugly on the shore—are you really so at ease?”

The workers trembled. “No… no.”

Liao Wenfeng’s eyes lit up, glancing at Wang Qiang in the distance. Was today the day to deal with the workers?

Old Zhen’s face was splattered with Lu Dahai’s spit, but there was nowhere to hide.

“I know some of you are even worse than the night shift. Let me give you a word of advice: open up your hearts, air them out, wash and tidy them.” Lu Dahai, worked up, continued, “When the town first announced the sale of Jin Gong Machinery Factory, I thought the hardest part would be scraping together enough money to buy it. Once I’d borrowed the money and bought the place, I thought the hardest part would be getting orders. I went out myself to drum up business—have you ever seen a boss do that? Then quality became my biggest headache. I paid a hefty sum to bring in Director Liao to improve the technology. But after all I’ve done, why do we still never meet our monthly quotas? Why are there so many defective products?”

Why indeed?

The workers knew all too well, and remained silent.

Lu Dahai seemed exhausted and sighed. “Now I see more and more clearly that the real crisis in this factory isn’t anything else—it’s here, among the people gathered at this gate!” He pointed to the cement ground, his voice rising ever higher. “It’s among those I trust. When one of you goes bad, a whole batch of products turns bad. If you all rot, Jin Gong Machinery Factory will go bankrupt, and I’ll die with no place to be buried!”

What was he going on about now?

Bankruptcy? No place to be buried?

Old Zhen immediately retorted, “Boss, how are we rotten?”

“Yeah, did you see us slacking off this morning?” Xiaoming Xia chimed in sarcastically.

Qin Xiaohui, Liao Wenfeng, and the others looked heavy-hearted. Of course the workers didn’t want to admit their faults—people are selfish by nature.

Lu Dahai replied unhurriedly, “I’ll talk about where you’re rotten in a moment.” He nodded, letting his gaze sweep over every face. “Think about it—how long has it even been since Jin Gong Machinery Factory was sold off and turned from a state-owned enterprise into a private one? Have you forgotten?” He walked to the big dawn redwood by the gate and pounded on it. “Back then, you all crowded around Secretary Li begging him not to lay you off. This dawn redwood still stands here, watching you every day!” He swung his right hand forcefully toward the crowd.

“Sigh…”

“It was really scary back then.”

“I remember Sister Sun even knelt and begged Secretary Li.”

Among the workers, a few women, recalling those hard times, couldn’t help but wipe at their moist eyes.

Lu Dahai paced back and forth in front of the crowd twice before finally stopping next to Wang Qiang, a little distance from everyone. He sighed, patting Wang Qiang’s shoulder. “Little Wang and I haven’t slept for a day and a night, thinking about what to say to you all. But every conversation needs a beginning.”

“Huh?”

“A whole night without sleep?”

“What’s going on?”

A few workers hesitated in confusion.

Lu Dahai’s tone softened. “After thinking it over, it comes down to just four words. Little Wang, bring it out.”

Everyone looked curiously at Wang Qiang, who ducked inside and emerged with a long sheet of paper bearing four bold characters—A Clear Conscience!

Lu Dahai asked, “Do you feel worthy of your pay? Do you have a clear conscience?”

A shiver ran through the crowd; no one answered.

Lu Xiaoqing, one of the most seasoned slackers, perhaps because of his youth and thinner skin, felt a sudden, inexplicable shame.

Lu Dahai pressed on, his tone heartbroken. “It’s easy to say, but how hard it is to practice! Have you lived up to those words?”

A clear conscience?

Have they practiced it?

The workers couldn’t help but sigh, still staying silent.

Old Zhen and his companions blushed slightly, feeling as if everyone was looking at them.

Lu Dahai glanced at the four of them, and asked for the third time, “These four words—I dug them out from my heart, from a sea of blood at the brink of the company’s survival. Do you really want me to go bankrupt, so you have to gather in front of this dawn redwood and beg Secretary Li not to lay you off again?”

No one replied to his third question.

Everyone fell silent; some women even sobbed quietly.

Even old Zhen and his lot found themselves churning with conflicting emotions—every word from Lu Dahai pierced straight to their hearts.

What if the factory closed?

Would they be lucky enough to find another Lu Dahai to take over next time?

“Remember, from today on, I’ll have these four words hung up in the gatehouse. When you come to work, look up, and ask yourselves if you’re living up to them.” Lu Dahai concluded, “Take a good look, everyone lift your heads and think about it.”

Everyone lifted their heads, including Qin Xiaohui, Liao Wenfeng, and the others, all looking at the four big words held high in Wang Qiang’s outstretched arms.

At that moment, someone in the crowd mumbled, “A clear conscience?”

“A clear conscience.” Then many workers repeated it out loud.

Have they really lived up to it?

They had not! Not a single one!

For a fleeting second, some sincerely felt they had let Lu Dahai down, felt they had gone too far in their daily behavior. Of course, a few honest souls kept casting odd glances at old Zhen, Xiaoming Xia, Lu Xiaoqing, and their ilk.

Thinking back to the day before yesterday, when the factory had tried to benefit everyone by introducing a reward and punishment system—work hard and you could earn more—yet after just one day, old Zhen and his cohort were late and even caused a disturbance at the town office. Remembering the heartfelt, weighty words Lu Dahai spoke today, they felt a twinge of sadness.

If Lu Dahai went bankrupt…

Would there be any good days left for everyone?

Perhaps out of emotion, quite a few people quietly resolved: from today, they would work hard and not put themselves at risk of facing unemployment again.