Reborn in 2000: I'm the Boss's Driver

At 10 a.m. on Monday, Lin Fan was organizing the minutes of the Transportation Bureau's survey from the previous week in his office when his phone vibrated.

It's Wang Juan.

He walked into the hallway to answer the phone, and before he could speak, he heard a voice on the other end, choked with sobs: "Lin Fan...something happened."

"Don't rush, speak slowly," Lin Fan said in a low voice.

"Just now... just now two people from the Industry and Commerce Bureau came and said they were checking product quality," Wang Juan sobbed. "They took two sweaters from the shelf and said the tag information was incomplete and didn't comply with regulations... They told us to take all the goods off the shelves and go to the bureau this afternoon to pay a fine of 20,000 yuan..."

Lin Fan frowned: "Did they show their identification?"

"They showed it to me, they were wearing uniforms and had work IDs." Wang Juan became increasingly flustered as she spoke. "They even said that if we don't pay on time, they'll shut down the shop... Lin Fan, what do we do? It's 20,000 yuan, we just opened..."

Lin Fan's mind raced. "You just keep the business running as usual, sell your goods, don't worry about anything else. I'll go over and handle it this afternoon."

"But they said..."

"What they say doesn't matter," Lin Fan interrupted her. "Listen to me, operate as usual. Leave this to me, you just do what you're supposed to do."

After a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, Wang Juan's voice came through as she took a deep breath: "Okay... I'll listen to you."

"By the way," Lin Fan added, "do you remember the physical features of those two people? Did they say anything unusual?"

"One was in his forties, a bit overweight, and spoke with an accent. The other was younger and wore glasses," Wang Juan recalled. "The overweight one said... that our newly opened shop didn't know the rules and had to pay some tuition."

Lin Fan understood: "Okay, I got it. I'll go to the Industry and Commerce Bureau at 2 PM this afternoon. Don't worry, just do your business as usual."

After hanging up the phone, Lin Fan stood by the corridor window and lit a cigarette.

2003 was a time of rampant, unregulated growth for the market economy. Various law enforcement departments—industry and commerce, taxation, quality inspection—had considerable discretionary power. In places like the Donghe Wholesale Market, it was common for newly opened shops to be "targeted." Sometimes the products genuinely had problems, but more often, it was just individuals trying to make a quick buck, usually a matter of a few hundred yuan.

Twenty thousand yuan, that's quite an appetite.

But Lin Fan wasn't afraid. In his previous life, he had run a small business and dealt with these departments, so he knew their methods and bottom lines. More importantly, he was no longer the small-time merchant with no connections he had been in his previous life.

He stubbed out his cigarette and returned to his office. Zhou Wenyuan was looking at documents. He glanced up at him and asked, "What's up?"

"Section Chief, I'd like to ask for half a day off this afternoon," Lin Fan said truthfully. "I have some things to take care of at home."

"Is it serious?"

"It should be solvable," Lin Fan said, without giving specifics.

Zhou Wenyuan nodded: "Go ahead. Don't forget to prepare for the provincial department meeting tomorrow."

"I won't forget."

At 1:50 PM, Lin Fan appeared at the entrance of the Donghe Industrial and Commercial Bureau.

This is an old three-story building with white tiles on the exterior walls, many of which have peeled off. A sign reading "Donghe Industrial and Commercial Bureau" hangs at the entrance, its paint faded and worn.

Lin Fan was wearing an ordinary jacket. He first looked at the sign in the lobby on the first floor—the market was on the second floor.

As he went up the stairs, he heard the sound of people playing cards coming from upstairs.

I knocked and went in. It was an office of about 20 square meters with four desks and three people in uniforms. At the desk by the window, two middle-aged men were playing chess, while a younger man was reading a newspaper.

"Excuse me, who is in charge of market supervision at the Donghe Wholesale Market?" Lin Fan asked.

The young man reading the newspaper looked up: "What is it?"

"I work at the 'Juanzi Clothing' wholesale market. Someone came to inspect this morning and told me to come back this afternoon to pay the fine."

"Oh, that one." The young man gestured towards the inner room, "Looking for Deputy Director Liu."

Lin Fan thanked him and walked to the door of the inner room. The door was ajar, and he could see a plump figure drinking tea.

I knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Lin Fan pushed open the door and went in. Behind the desk sat the man in his forties, a bit overweight, whom Wang Juan had described. The nameplate on the desk read: Liu Jianguo, Deputy Director.

"Hello, Director Liu." Lin Fan used a respectful title. "I am the person in charge of 'Juanzi Clothing,' and my surname is Lin."

Liu Jianguo didn't even lift his eyelids, continuing to blow on the tea leaves in his teacup: "Sit down."

Lin Fan sat down in the chair opposite him. The office was small, with various rules and regulations hanging on the walls, and several half-dead potted green plants on the windowsill.

"There's something wrong with your goods." Liu Jianguo put down his teacup and took out two sweaters from the drawer—samples from Wang Juan's shop. "The hangtag information is incomplete; there's no factory address, no ingredient list, and no washing instructions. According to Article 54 of the Product Quality Law, you can be fined up to three times the value of the goods. We've calculated your goods to be worth eight thousand, so a fine of twenty thousand is already very lenient."

Lin Fan picked up the sweater and examined it. The tag was indeed simple, containing only the brand name "Qilifang," the size, and the price. This was a common problem in Guangzhou's wholesale markets—many goods were OEM products with incomplete manufacturer information.

"Director Liu," Lin Fan put down his sweater, his tone respectful, "we're a small business, only been open for a week, and we really don't understand these regulations. Could you please give us a chance to rectify things immediately?"

"Rectification is definitely necessary," Liu Jianguo said, leaning back in his chair. "But the fines also have to be paid. That's the rule."

"Director Liu," Lin Fan took out his work ID from his pocket and gently placed it on the table, "I'm from the Municipal Finance Bureau, I work in the office. We're practically part of the same system, you see..."

He deliberately avoided mentioning his specific position. In government agencies, the office is a delicate department—it may not necessarily have power, but it's well-informed and has frequent contact with superiors.

Liu Jianguo glanced at the work badge, his expression softening slightly, but his tone remained unchanged: "Xiao Lin, it's not that I'm being disrespectful. Rules are rules, and your product does have a problem. How about this, considering you're young and work for the government, I'll reduce the fine to ten thousand. That's the lowest I can go."

Lin Fan sneered inwardly. Lowering the price from 20,000 to 10,000 seemed like a gesture of respect, but it was still ripping off the customer.

"Chief Liu," he said, taking back his work badge, "we can't come up with even ten thousand. We just opened, and we haven't even recouped our investment yet. How about this: we'll immediately rectify all the signs and add all the missing information. As for the fine... could you reduce it a bit?"

Liu Jianguo lit a cigarette and squinted at Lin Fan. Smoke filled the space between them.

"Five thousand." He flicked his cigarette ash. "That's the bottom line. Any less, and I won't be able to explain it to the police station."

"Okay." Lin Fan nodded. "We'll accept the 5,000 yuan fine. But Director Liu, could you issue a formal ticket? That would make it easier for us to keep accounts."

Liu Jianguo's face darkened: "Xiao Lin, what do you mean by this? Don't you trust us?"

"It's not that I don't believe you," Lin Fan smiled. "I work for the Finance Bureau, so I know the financial regulations. Without proper receipts, we can't record this money. If you issue a fine and stamp it with the bureau's seal, we can pay the fine clearly."

These words were laced with barbs. Liu Jianguo stared at Lin Fan for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed: "Young man, you know your stuff."

He opened a drawer and took out a handwritten receipt: "A proper ticket requires the station chief's signature, but he's not here today. Pay first, and I'll give you a receipt. We'll complete the paperwork when the station chief returns."

Lin Fan took the receipt. It was a three-part form, the most ordinary receipt, with only the words "Donghe District Industrial and Commercial Bureau" printed on it, without even a financial supervision stamp.

"Director Liu," Lin Fan pushed the receipt back, "this won't do. What we need is the 'Administrative Penalty Decision' and a proper receipt for fines and confiscations.' We can't explain this kind of receipt back home."

Liu Jianguo's face fell completely: "Xiao Lin, I'm giving you face, don't be ungrateful. Take it or leave it, pay the 20,000."

The office fell silent. The cries of vendors from downstairs drifted in through the window, and car horns sounded in the distance.

Lin Fan was silent for a few seconds, then stood up: "Director Liu, then let's issue this kind of receipt. But you have to write 'product quality fine' in the remarks column, and then stamp it with the station's seal."

"So much trouble," Liu Jianguo muttered, but still took out the company seal and stamped it with a red stamp on the receipt. "Pay up."

Lin Fan counted out five thousand yuan in cash and a stack of brand-new hundred-yuan bills from his bag. He had specifically withdrawn these from the bank that morning; they were consecutively numbered.

Liu Jianguo took the money, examined it against the light, and casually tossed it into a drawer: "Alright, let's go. Remember to rectify the situation; if we catch you again, it won't be as simple as a fine."

"Thank you, Director Liu." Lin Fan picked up the receipt, carefully folded it, and put it in his pocket. "Those two samples..."

"The samples have been confiscated; they need to be archived." Liu Jianguo waved his hand. "Hurry up and go; I'm still busy."

Lin Fan left the office and gently closed the door behind him.

He stood in the corridor for a while, and heard Liu Jianguo's voice on the phone inside: "...Yeah, it's been taken care of, five thousand... It's nothing, just a young guy, a low-level employee in the Finance Bureau, he can't cause any trouble..."

Lin Fan twitched the corner of his mouth and went downstairs to leave.

Back at the wholesale market, Wang Juan was standing at her stall, lost in thought. Upon seeing Lin Fan, she immediately approached him: "How was it?"

"I was fined five thousand," Lin Fan said calmly. "I issued a receipt."

"Five thousand?" Wang Juan breathed a sigh of relief, but then frowned. "That's not a small amount... It's all my fault for not paying attention to the price tag."

"It's not your fault." Lin Fan patted her shoulder. "Many goods in Guangzhou are like this, it's not your fault. Besides..." He paused, "This money won't be wasted."

Wang Juan didn't understand, but seeing that Lin Fan didn't want to say more, she didn't ask.

"Oh, right," Lin Fan took out a stack of hangtag samples from his bag, "These are hangtags I bought on the way here. Just change all the hangtags on the clothes in the store, and use these as examples."

Wang Juan took the tag: "Do we need to replace them all? There's so much stock..."

"Replace them all." Lin Fan said decisively. "Leave nothing behind. This is tuition; remember, if you don't have enough manpower, just hire another one."

"Okay, I'll change tonight." Wang Juan nodded emphatically.

Lin Fan glanced at the stall; business was still good, and Xiao Fang and Xiao Li were busy. He felt relieved: "I'm going back to work. Call me if you need anything."

"Okay." Wang Juan saw him to the door, then suddenly said, "Lin Fan, I'm sorry... I've caused you trouble."

Lin Fan turned to look at her. Wang Juan's eyes were still a little red, but her expression had become firm.

"It's not a problem," he said. "It's growth. Once you experience it once, you'll know how to handle it next time."

It was already 4:30 PM when Lin Fan returned to his office. Zhou Wenyuan wasn't there; he was probably in a meeting. Lin Fan sat down and began organizing the materials needed for tomorrow's provincial department seminar.

He read through the "Several Opinions on Regulating the Management of Local Fiscal Funds" again, marking the key points. Then he opened the black notebook Zhou Wenyuan had given him and began writing his speech outline:

I. Problems with Current Fund Supervision (Based on Actual Cases in This City)

II. Necessity and Feasibility of Establishing a Performance Evaluation Mechanism

III. Specific Recommendations:

1. Establish a rolling management system for the project library.

2. Introduce third-party evaluation

3. Performance evaluation results will be linked to the budget for the following year.

……

He was so engrossed in writing that he didn't even notice when Zhou Wenyuan returned.

"So serious?" Zhou Wenyuan's voice rang out from behind.

Lin Fan quickly stood up: "Section Chief."

"Sit down." Zhou Wenyuan took off his coat. "At tomorrow's meeting, you'll mainly be talking about Part Three. Director Li from the Provincial Budget Department might ask you some questions, so be prepared."

"clear."

Zhou Wenyuan poured himself a cup of tea and sat down opposite him: "Have you finished dealing with things this afternoon?"

Lin Fan hesitated. Logically, he shouldn't discuss such personal matters with his superior. But Zhou Wenyuan treated him like a brother, and...

"What's wrong? Not going well?" Zhou Wenyuan asked, observing the situation.

Lin Fan thought for a moment, then said, "Section Chief, it's like this..."

He briefly recounted the process of the fine imposed by the Industry and Commerce Bureau, without embellishing or omitting any details—including Liu Jianguo's attitude after hearing that he was a junior employee of the Finance Bureau, the irregular handwritten receipt, and the phone call he overheard.

Zhou Wenyuan listened quietly and took a sip of tea.

"Liu Jianguo from the Donghe Industrial and Commercial Bureau..." he murmured the name, "I vaguely remember him. I heard his reputation isn't very good."

Lin Fan didn't reply.

"The money's already paid, don't worry about it." Zhou Wenyuan put down his teacup. "But we can't tolerate this kind of irregular enforcement. Keep the receipt, print a few extra copies, and keep the original safe."

"Section Chief, I didn't mean to..."

"I know you don't want revenge," Zhou Wenyuan waved his hand, "but organizations have their rules. If he can punish you like this today, he can punish someone else like this tomorrow. This kind of atmosphere is not good."

Lin Fan nodded.

"Put that aside for now," Zhou Wenyuan said, looking at Lin Fan. "Your main task now is tomorrow's meeting. Perform well and make sure the provincial leaders remember you; that's more important than anything else."

"Yes."

"As for that Liu Jianguo..." Zhou Wenyuan paused, then said calmly, "Don't worry, we'll deal with him when we have the chance."

These words were spoken lightly, but Lin Fan sensed their weight.

Lin Fan returned home at 7 p.m.

His mother was heating up food in the kitchen, while his father hadn't finished get off work yet—the traffic police's day shift ended at eight o'clock. Lin Fan put down his bag and went to the kitchen to help.

"Mom, how's Dad doing at work these days?"

"He's doing great!" His mother said with a smile. "He came back yesterday and said the team leader praised him for being diligent. Your dad hasn't been this energetic in decades."

Lin Fan smiled too. His father had spent the first half of his life farming, but now he had a decent job; he was truly a different person.

Around 8 o'clock, my father came home from get off work. Sure enough, he was still wearing his uniform, and he refused to take it off even though he was off work.

"How was your day?" Lin Fan asked.

"That's good." Lin Jianguo washed his hands and sat down. "The captain put me in charge of the guard room's shift schedule, so I'm a small leader now."

"Dad is amazing."

"What's so great about it? It's just that I'm old, so they give me some face." Lin Jianguo said modestly, but he couldn't hide the smile on his face. "By the way, the deputy captain of the traffic police team came to our place today and chatted with me for a bit, asking who introduced me."

Lin Fan's heart skipped a beat: "What did you say?"

"I just told him my son works at the Finance Bureau, and that my supervisor helped me get the job." Lin Jianguo didn't take it seriously. "He just said 'oh' and didn't say anything more."

Lin Fan, however, understood the underlying reason. His father's job was arranged by Zhou Wenyuan through Old Chen in the Logistics Section of the Transportation Bureau, and Old Chen must have spoken to his subordinates. The fact that the deputy captain of the traffic police team specifically came to inquire indicated that the matter had already spread throughout the transportation system—it was due to the connection with Section Chief Zhou of the Finance Bureau.

This is both a good thing and a pressure. If Father performs well at work, it brings honor to Zhou Wenyuan; if he makes a mistake, it will be Zhou Wenyuan who loses face.

"Dad," Lin Fan said earnestly, "You must be serious about your work, but you also need to be careful about what you say. Don't meddle in things you shouldn't, and don't say things you shouldn't."

"I understand." Lin Jianguo nodded. "Your dad is so old. He works for a government company. He can't go wrong if he does more work and talks less."

At 8:00 a.m. on Tuesday, Lin Fan drove Zhou Wenyuan to the Provincial Department of Finance.

It takes three and a half hours to get from Gangcheng to the provincial capital. Lin Fan drove steadily, while Zhou Wenyuan sat in the back reading documents and occasionally answering a phone call.

"Xiao Lin," Zhou Wenyuan suddenly spoke as they approached the provincial capital, "Are you nervous?"

"A little," Lin Fan said honestly.

"It's normal to be nervous." Zhou Wenyuan closed the document. "The first time I attended a provincial meeting, I was twenty-five, about your age. At that time, I was at the county finance bureau, accompanying the director to the meeting, and I didn't dare to look up the whole time."

Lin Fan glanced in the rearview mirror. Zhou Wenyuan had a look of reminiscence on his face.

"Later I understood," Zhou Wenyuan continued, "a meeting is a stage. Even if you sit there and don't say anything, others will still be watching you. Instead of hiding, it's better to be open and confident. Of course, there should be a sense of proportion in being open—speak when you should speak, and listen when you shouldn't. When you speak, you should be reasonable and well-founded, and when you listen, you should take careful notes."

"Understood, Section Chief."

"At today's meeting," Zhou Wenyuan paused, "Director Zhang of the Budget Department is my former boss's college classmate. If he asks you any questions, just answer truthfully. There's no need to try to curry favor or be nervous."

Lin Fan's heart skipped a beat. The director of the provincial budget department was a classmate of Zhou Wenyuan's old boss? Zhou Wenyuan had never mentioned this relationship before.

"Section Chief, I..."

"Do your best." After saying this, Zhou Wenyuan closed his eyes to rest.

At 9:30, the car drove into the compound of the Provincial Finance Department. The twelve-story building was magnificent. The security guard checked the license plate and identification, saluted, and let it pass.

The conference room was on the eighth floor. When the two entered, there were already more than a dozen people there, all section chiefs from the finance bureaus of various cities. Zhou Wenyuan led Lin Fan, greeting them one by one, exchanging business cards, and exchanging pleasantries.

Lin Fan followed behind, bowing slightly and handing over a business card with both hands—this was printed in advance by Zhou Wenyuan, with the title "Office of the Finance Bureau of Gangcheng City" and no specific position listed.

"Old Zhou, what's this?" someone asked.

"Bring Xiao Lin from our office here to learn a thing or two," Zhou Wenyuan said casually.

Everyone just laughed it off and didn't ask any further questions. Bringing young cadres along to broaden their horizons is a common practice.

At 2:50, the provincial leaders entered. Leading the way was Zhang Dong, the director of the budget department, a man in his early forties, tall and with sharp eyes. He saw Zhou Wenyuan, nodded, and said nothing.

The meeting began. Zhang Dong spoke first, emphasizing the importance of standardized fund management, followed by reports from each city. When it was Gangcheng's turn, Zhou Wenyuan stood up: "Director Zhang, distinguished leaders, I'd like to have our colleague Xiao Lin from our bureau report on our thoughts. Young people have new ideas, so please offer your feedback."

All eyes turned to Lin Fan.

Lin Fan took a deep breath, stood up, and walked to the podium. He opened his notebook, but didn't look at it—he already knew the contents by heart.

"Good morning, leaders. I am Lin Fan from the Finance Bureau of Gangcheng City. Based on the actual situation in our city, I have three preliminary suggestions regarding the draft for comments..."

His voice was clear, and his pace was moderate. He started with practical problems, explained the theoretical basis, and then offered specific suggestions. His presentation was well-organized, his data accurate, and he occasionally quoted document clauses, demonstrating solid basic skills.

After explaining the third point, "linking performance evaluation results to the next year's budget," Zhang Dong suddenly asked, "Comrade Xiao Lin, if your suggestion is implemented, won't it lead to lower-level employees falsifying performance records to achieve higher scores?"

The question was sharp. The meeting room fell silent.

Lin Fan thought for a moment and replied, "Director Zhang, this problem does exist. So we emphasized three points in our suggestion: First, the performance indicators must be scientific and not solely based on numbers; second, third-party evaluation should be introduced to increase credibility; and third, a fault-tolerance mechanism should be established to allow failures in exploratory work."

"A third-party assessment?" Li Xiangdong pressed. "What kind of third party do you think would be suitable?"

"Research institutions in universities or professional accounting firms are both fine," Lin Fan said. "The key is independence and professionalism. The expenses can be covered by project management fees, and the percentage won't be too large."

Zhang Dong nodded and didn't ask any more questions.

A faint smile played on Zhou Wenyuan's lips.

The meeting lasted until five o'clock. After the meeting, Zhang Dong walked over and said, "Wen Yuan, your Xiao Lin is quite good."

"You flatter me, Director. Young people still have much to learn," Zhou Wenyuan said modestly.

"Studying is one aspect, daring to think and speak out is another," Zhang Dong said, glancing at Lin Fan.

After Zhang Dong left, Zhou Wenyuan patted Lin Fan on the shoulder: "Good job. Director Zhang rarely praises people on the spot."

"It's because the section chief taught us well."

"It has nothing to do with me, it's your own merit that made you successful," Zhou Wenyuan said. "Let's go eat. We still have to travel this afternoon."

On the way back, Zhou Wenyuan was in a good mood: "Today's trip was worth it. Director Zhang will remember you; there will be opportunities in the future."

"Thank you for your guidance, Section Chief."

"You seized the opportunity yourself." Zhou Wenyuan looked at the scenery rushing past the window. "In the government office, opportunities are like buses. If you miss one, you have to wait a long time. But just waiting won't do. When the bus comes, you have to squeeze on, and once you're on, you have to stand firm."

Lin Fan pondered these words.

"By the way," Zhou Wenyuan changed the subject, "I inquired about the matter with the Industry and Commerce Bureau. Liu Jianguo, the deputy director, was transferred from a lower-level Industry and Commerce Bureau last year. I heard he has some connections with a deputy district head in Donghe District, so he's quite arrogant."

"Make a copy of your receipt," Zhou Wenyuan said. "I'll hand it to the right person at a suitable time."

"it is good."

The car arrived at the Finance Bureau at 9 p.m. Before getting out, Zhou Wenyuan said, "Take tomorrow off, and be back at work on time the day after."

"Yes, Section Chief."

Watching Zhou Wenyuan walk into the office building, Lin Fan didn't leave immediately. He sat in his car and lit a cigarette.

Today was a very information-rich day. There was his appearance at the provincial department meeting, Director Zhang's appreciation, Zhou Wenyuan revealing his former leader's classmate relationship, and the follow-up arrangements for the incident at the industrial and commercial bureau…

All the clues are weaving into a net. And he stands at one node of that net.

My phone vibrated; it was a text message from Wang Juan: "All the tags have been changed. I'm exhausted. Are you back yet?"

Lin Fan replied, "Just got back. You must be tired, get some rest."

"Okay, you should go to bed early too."

Lin Fan put away his phone and started the car. The city lights were dim in the night; it was already quite cold in the winter of 2003.

The car drove into Anjuyuan residential area. The light was still on in his parents' room; they were probably waiting for him.

Lin Fan parked his car and looked up at his home window.

There is light, warmth, and people waiting for him there.

This is enough.

All the scheming, all the careful planning, wasn't it all for the sake of protecting this lamp?

He took a deep breath, opened the car door, and walked into the apartment building.

Tomorrow is another day. And all the storms and foreshadowing will find their answers in time.

All he needs to do is walk steadily.