I couldn't take it anymore; when I went home for Chinese New Year, the family genealogy book ha

The power of mobilizing the entire village is boundless.

Driven by the powerful force of money, the mountain of 50,000 orders of strawberry jam was packed up and cleaned up in just three days.

The last green truck marked "Postal Express" slowly drove out of Jiangjia Village amidst the deliveryman's eyes, which held a mixture of despair and relief.

The entire factory compound finally returned to calm.

Although the villagers were exhausted and their backs ached, everyone's face was filled with the joy of a bountiful harvest.

Night falls.

The factory courtyard was brightly lit, with more than a dozen tables set up.

Jiang Chen had bundles of cash brought out and piled them on the table like a small red mountain.

The time to pay wages has arrived.

"Aunt Wang, your family of three packed a total of 3,200 packages, which will cost 1,600 yuan. Here you go!"

"Brother Li, you're the fastest! You did everyone else's work, and you're worth a thousand yuan!"

"..."

Wang Dagou held a large ledger and shouted out names one by one at the top of his lungs.

The villagers who received the money were all smiles, counting the stacks of brand-new banknotes over and over in their hands, their mouths practically stretched to their ears.

In just three days, I earned what I used to earn in a month. Where else can you find such a business?

"Next up, Jiang Mancang!"

Wang Dagou shouted.

The crowd automatically parted to make way.

Jiang Mancang quietly emerged from the most inconspicuous corner.

He rubbed his hands, which were covered in calluses and cracks, looking somewhat uneasy.

"Uncle Mancang".

With a smile on his face, Wang Dagou pulled out a thick stack of money from the pile and handed it over.

"This is your share. You did the work of three or four other people. We remember that."

"Based on the amount you packed and moved, it's a total of two thousand yuan. Count it."

Two thousand yuan!

The surrounding villagers gasped in surprise.

Earning two thousand yuan in three days is more than the best bricklayer in the village earns.

Jiang Mancang was stunned when he saw the thick stack of red bills.

He didn't take it, but hurriedly waved his hand, opening his mouth but unable to utter a single word because of his anxiety.

He held up three dark fingers and pointed to himself, meaning that he had only worked for three days, and according to the village's work rules, a little over a hundred a day was the maximum, so it was impossible for him to earn that much.

"Uncle, please take it!"

Wang Dagou understood his meaning, stuffed the money into his arms, and raised his voice so that everyone around could hear.

"This was personally instructed by Brother Chen!"

"In our Jiangjia Village, and under Brother Chen's nose, there's only one rule: the more you work, the more you earn; the more capable you are, the more you get!"

Wang Dagou's words were resounding and powerful.

The surrounding villagers were not jealous at all; on the contrary, they all nodded in agreement.

"Da Gou is right! Uncle Mancang has really been working himself to the bone these past three days!"

"You deserve those two thousand dollars!"

"If such good things happen again, I'll follow Uncle Mancang's example and work diligently!"

Jiang Mancang stood there, clutching the thick wad of money in his arms, completely at a loss.

He had never seen so much money in his life.

He wanted to say thank you, but the two words stuck in his throat and he couldn't say them.

Just then, his old-fashioned mobile phone, which he had kept in his pants pocket for several years, suddenly vibrated with a "buzz".

He frantically pulled out his phone.

It was a text message notification from the bank.

He put on his reading glasses and looked at each word carefully.

[Dear customer, a transfer of 50,000.00 yuan was completed on [date] at 19:35 to your savings account ending in xxxx.]

Fifty thousand yuan!

Jiang Mancang's pupils suddenly contracted as if he had been pricked by a needle.

He thought he was seeing things, so he rubbed his eyes hard and looked at it again.

That's right, it's 50,000!

Below the amount is a small note.

Keep your overtime pay a secret.

This money was enough to cover his impoverished family's expenses for a whole year.

He could even send his bedridden wife to the best hospital in the county for a proper check-up.

Jiang Mancang stared blankly at the text message, his hand holding the phone began to tremble uncontrollably, shaking like a leaf falling in the autumn wind.

The surrounding noise and the villagers' laughter seemed to have faded away from him at that moment.

His world consisted only of the string of numbers on his phone screen that he couldn't believe.

My eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

A single, scalding tear slid down from the corner of his wrinkled eye, shattering on the phone screen.

This old man, who had lived a silent life in the village and was called "Old Ox" his entire life.

This man carried 200 pounds of weight and didn't utter a sound even when his back was about to break.

At this moment, however, he could no longer control himself.

He turned around abruptly, not even bothering to wipe the tears from his face, and bent his straight back—which hadn't bowed to anyone for over sixty years—towards the brightly lit office on the second floor of the factory.

A deep bow at a ninety-degree angle.