After my divorce at thirty, I developed an intelligence network.

"Six hundred thousand?" Yu Qin exclaimed in disbelief.

This number is astronomical to them, but the thought that it was earned with their lives makes them feel choked up.

"What if we take the bus?" he asked in a muffled voice.

Old Niu shook his head, his expression complex.

"Going through official channels? According to the Work Injury Regulations, with layers of approval, investigation and liability determination, and endless wrangling, the family might only get a maximum of 200,000 yuan in the end!"

We have to wait, but can we afford to wait? The breadwinner of the family is gone; the elderly and children are waiting for food! So… it will most likely be settled privately.

He took another slurp of the popsicle, wincing from the cold, but his tone remained chilling.

"Six hundred thousand for a life... Hey, tell me, is a life worth anything or nothing?"

For a moment, no one spoke in the courtyard except for the faint sound of people slurping popsicles.

Gong Yuelong listened quietly, recalling Lao Niu's excited face that morning and his own words of advice.

The old ox might have ended up in that ditch.

"Uncle Niu," he said, "I'm glad you're alright. In the future, be more careful with these kinds of rushed jobs, especially those with unclear conditions. There's always money to be made."

Old Niu nodded emphatically, "Yes, yes! Thank goodness for your reminder this morning! If I had acted impulsively and actually went down... I don't even want to think about the consequences!"

Gong Yuelong didn't say anything more, threw the popsicle wrapper in his hand into the trash can in the corner, and clapped his hands.

He turned and walked towards his little house.

Back inside, Gong Yuelong sat down on the wooden bed without turning on the light.

Changmin Road, landslide, four lives lost, 600,000 yuan settlement...

The image of Old Niu, pale with fear, overlapped with his excited demeanor that morning, when he was saying he'd earn twenty more a day.

"Twenty more a day..."

Gong Yuelong took out a cigarette, lit it, and the red dot flickered in the dim light.

He took a deep drag.

If this had happened a month ago, no, even half a month ago, would he have gone if he heard there was work on Changmin Road that paid an extra twenty yuan a day?

meeting.

He can give the answer almost without thinking.

Not only will they go, they'll scramble to get a good spot, even if it means fighting tooth and nail.

At that time, he only had a few hundred yuan left in his pocket, and he was burdened with a debt of four million yuan. He had to save every penny to buy his daughter Duoduo's toys.

Twenty yuan means he can have another meal with meat, pay off a negligible amount of debt interest, and delay his complete collapse by one day.

As for the risks? Landslides? It's just a matter of probability.

So many people go, how come it's bound to be my turn? Those at the bottom of society are fighting for their lives, and often it's all about that uncertainty.

Perhaps, if he hadn't reminded Lao Niu this morning, or Lao Niu hadn't listened, or perhaps he himself would still be in that situation...

The grief and lingering fear that enveloped the courtyard at this moment included Gong Yuelong.

Buried beneath the cold soil of that ditch might be a face he once knew intimately, or even...

He flicked off his cigarette ash.

It's not that he's smarter than others, nor is it that he's particularly lucky.

It was because he had the system and gained a little bit of foresight that he saw the vague outline of the risk and avoided that fatal probability.

But many more old oxen and many more Gong Yuelongs continue to rely on experience and luck to make a living on the edge of a knife.

They used their own flesh and blood to fill the holes dug out by rushing to meet deadlines, cutting costs, and lax management.

"Six hundred thousand to buy a life..."

The old ox's complex sigh echoed in my ears again. Was it worth it?

For the project owners, buying out the project is troublesome; they need to suppress public opinion and keep the project going.

Human life here is reduced to a negotiable number.

He recalled that before his bankruptcy, there had been minor incidents involving his staff, and how they were handled was nothing short of a calculated process.

At that time, he was on the side of compensation. Although he was also worried, he was more concerned about how to control the impact and minimize the losses.

Now that we've changed positions and are looking at it from the perspective of someone who might be entitled to compensation, the feeling is completely different.

"It really proves the old saying: the view you see is completely different depending on where you stand."

Gong Yuelong sat quietly, his emotions gradually calming down.

Luck is unreliable. Sympathy is cheap.

In this industry, to avoid becoming a negotiated number or a price to pay, caution and experience alone are far from enough.

He had to climb up, or at least climb to a position where he had enough information and resources to proactively avoid most of the fatal risks.

He has to make himself expensive, so expensive that if something goes wrong, the other party will feel the pain of paying a price, rather than simply settling for a few hundred thousand.

Intelligence can help him find opportunities to avoid obvious pitfalls, but it cannot directly give him the worth and capital to withstand risks.

To pay off his enormous debts, to protect himself, and to truly escape the vortex of the lower class that could swallow him up at any moment, he could not be content with being just a well-informed day laborer.

He needs to rebuild his company's structure—not the old, superficial one.

Rather, it is a framework that allows him to gain a foothold and have bargaining power.

"With intelligence in hand and a reliable team assembled, taking on the job at the sports center is the first step."

His goal had never been so clear:

Turning the tide and paying off debts is the motivation to survive.

To avoid becoming the next nobody on Changmin Road, start by making yourself valuable.

……

……

the next day.

Sports Center, East Zone Foundation Pit.

As dawn broke, the sky was a pale gray, and the sweltering heat that had lingered over the construction site all night returned, clinging stickily to people's bodies.

Engineer Zhao walked slowly along the edge of the foundation pit with his hands behind his back.

At the bottom of the pit, dark steel cages had already been erected, resembling a forest of iron.

A few scattered laborers listlessly scrambled through the dust and debris on the ground, the swishing sound adding to the irritation of the stuffy morning.

As he was walking, the tip of his shoe hit something hard. It was a scaffolding clip so rusted that its original shape was no longer visible.

Zhao bent down, hooked the metal lump with his finger, weighed it in his hand, and with a flick of his arm, the clip flew back steadily with a clang, landing on top of the pile of parts. He then continued walking forward.

Construction worker Xiao Liu jogged over with a folder in his hand.

She looked to be no more than twenty-seven or twenty-eight, with her face and neck tanned into a uniform, healthy dark color.

"Manager Zhao," she said, her voice a little urgent, "is it confirmed that the new work team from Nanshan County will be here today?"

Engineer Zhao looked up and gazed at the main gate of the construction site.

"Hmm," he hummed through his nose.

If you don't show up, everything else is for nothing.

He needed to see for himself what kind of people that Gong Yuelong had brought in were really like.

No matter how bright the red stamp on the contract is, it's not as reassuring as having a real person standing right there on the edge of the pit.

Whether a person is honest or cunning, whether their tools are complete or makeshift, whether they are quick or slow, you can only tell once they arrive and stand in this hot and dirty place.