Chapter 37: Could You Please Stop Smiling at Me? (Bonus Chapter)

Inside the office.

On the tea table were four dishes and a soup: braised potatoes with pork, stir-fried chicken with edamame, soy-braised bream, sautéed cucumber, and loofah egg soup.

It was a sumptuous meal.

There was both fish and meat.

Wang Qiang ate with relish.

Qin Xiaohui kept piling food onto his plate; just now, she had given him a piece of fish belly, smiling, “Eat more, you’re still growing.”

Lu Dahai sat on the stool opposite the tea table, his tone tinged with jealousy, “Why aren’t you serving me?”

Qin Xiaohui shot him a glance, “I do as I please, none of your business. Wang here solved a huge problem for us—forget just serving him, if we were at home, I’d cook him a feast myself.”

Lu Dahai pressed her, “You said it. Tonight, you’ll cook. I’ve invited Secretary Li and Mayor Zhang for dinner, and Wang will join us.”

Wang Qiang took a bite of fish belly, swallowed, “I’d rather not. You’re entertaining the town leaders; why would I go?”

“No, you must go. Secretary Li never attends these sorts of dinners. When I called him today, I had to cajole him for ages; he finally agreed, but only for your sake. If you don’t show up, how will I explain to him?” Lu Dahai said, half-serious, half-joking.

At this moment, Wang Qiang saw Qin Xiaohui wink at him, and he smiled helplessly, agreeing.

In truth, dining with the secretary and vice mayor had its advantages. At the very least, after getting acquainted, things like applying for land or getting approval for building a house would go more smoothly.

Moreover, Wang Qiang was considering his next steps—whether to start with livestock farming or trade to improve his life. If he chose farming, he’d inevitably have dealings with the town. As for trade, he wasn’t certain yet, unsure if Guangzhou and Shenzhen were really as lucrative as the internet later claimed—bringing back clothes or electronics for four or five times the profit.

Right now, with scarce products and asymmetric information, profits were easy if you had supply.

But Wang Qiang wasn’t sure where to source goods, and his cash was limited, so he hadn’t acted yet. It was a pity Lu Dahai’s computer couldn’t access the internet, otherwise he could look things up.

After a while.

Lu Dahai finished eating and wiped his mouth, “Xiaohui, when we’re done, take the dishes to the cafeteria and clean up. I’m going downstairs to check on things.” He was still riding high from today’s triumph, eager to see how the workers were doing, or perhaps just to savor that feeling of being in control.

When he left, Qin Xiaohui spoke, “Wang, are you satisfied with the food?”

“Mmm, very good.” Wang Qiang praised, “The cafeteria chef has skill.”

“Of course. Lu specially hired them.” Qin Xiaohui set down her chopsticks and, with hands painted in purple nail polish, rested her chin, looking at Wang Qiang.

Too absorbed in eating to notice her gesture, Wang Qiang picked up a potato and asked offhandedly, “The workers don’t pay for meals, do they?”

“No, they don’t.”

“The food’s pretty good, right?”

“Four dishes and a soup per table, generous portions, enough to fill everyone up.”

Wang Qiang ladled himself some soup, recalling the days eating at the workplace cafeteria, and remarked, “You treat your workers well. Some factories even make workers pay for their own meals.”

Qin Xiaohui was surprised, “Really? Pay for their own food? Wouldn’t all the workers quit?”

“No, not necessarily. The factory gives them a meal allowance each month, credited to their meal card. Then there are lots of dishes every day; workers order whatever they want.” Wang Qiang sipped his soup, sweating from the heat, and continued, “Usually it’s enough, but if someone wants something better, they’ll go over their allowance and pay out of pocket.”

He hadn’t thought much of it, just mentioned it casually, but Qin Xiaohui grew interested, pressing him for details.

Wang Qiang explained the cafeteria ordering system.

After a while, he finished eating and turned to suggest taking the dishes to the cafeteria himself, only to find Qin Xiaohui staring intently at him.

“Uh…” Wang Qiang wiped his brow, “Sister Xiaohui, what are you looking at?”

“Huh? Oh, oh.” Qin Xiaohui snapped out of her reverie, revealing two sweet dimples. “Just thinking. Wang, you know so much—Sister really likes you.” She reached out and pinched Wang Qiang’s cheek.

Wang Qiang discreetly edged away, chuckling, “It’s nothing.”

Then Qin Xiaohui took a handkerchief from her suit pocket and began to wipe her mouth. Halfway through, she suddenly said, “Don’t move.”

What was going on? Wang Qiang didn’t know, so he stayed still.

Unexpectedly, Qin Xiaohui reached over, handkerchief in hand, and gently wiped the corner of his mouth.

Wang Qiang was startled, quickly dodged, and clumsily gathered up the dirty plates, “Uh, I’ll take these to the cafeteria to wash.” He hurried out in embarrassment.

Behind him, Qin Xiaohui’s laughter rang out like silver bells.

Only then did Wang Qiang realize he’d been teased, and a bitter smile crossed his lips.

Whether she was joking or not, he had no such intentions. Leaving aside whether Qin Xiaohui was married, Wang Qiang still carried thoughts of his own wife in his heart, so he would never act out of line. Otherwise, when Jiang Lijuan spoke so directly that day, why hadn’t he responded?

A gentleman knows what to do and what not to do.

He wasn’t exactly a gentleman, but he knew what was right and what was wrong.

…

He went downstairs.

Following the sun-cracked concrete path toward the cafeteria.

Wang Qiang pondered what to do next after repaying his family’s debts. He had two options: one was to follow Liu Yonghao’s example, leveraging rural advantages to raise livestock or farm, building steadily until his family’s living conditions improved. This path required exploration but was stable.

The other was trade; he’d seen countless stories online in his previous life about small businesses making fortunes, southern goods shipped north for massive profits. Wang Qiang believed those tales weren’t baseless, but this route carried risks—the uncertainty of whether reality was as simple as the internet later described.

Wang Qiang had no grand ambitions. He hadn’t come back to become the world’s richest man, nor to amass wives and concubines. He just wanted to use his foresight to give his parents a good life, then find his wife from his previous life.

Peaceful family, worry-free life.

That was the greatest happiness in his heart now.

Lost in thought, he suddenly heard a commotion ahead.

What was happening?

Curious, Wang Qiang looked toward the bustling crowd at the cafeteria entrance, listening carefully.

“Old Zhen, what did the town say?”

“Yeah, did they say you could come back to work?”

“Old Xia, Old Huang, say something, don’t just stand there laughing.”

Everyone pressed for answers; Wang Qiang noticed Old Zhen and the others among them and his heart skipped—had Secretary Li gone back on his word?

Surrounded by twenty or thirty people, Old Zhen wore a smile, his mood apparently good.

The buck-toothed woman was delighted, “The town didn’t punish you?”

Lu Xiaoqing laughed, “I knew it—I knew nothing would happen.”

Old Zhen, his mouth stubborn though his face beamed, replied, “The town didn’t punish us, but after discussing it with Old Xia and the others, we decided there’s no future working in the factory. We’re going into business instead—so we resigned.”

Pfft.

Wang Qiang couldn’t help but laugh.

Old Zhen turned to see his smiling face and immediately put on a pained expression, “Can you stop laughing at me? I’m embarrassed. I lost my job because of you—what more do you want?”