Flip the table and divide the family property! Take his wife and daughter into the mountains and eat

The next morning, more than twenty people were already standing on the open space next to the warehouse.

It was bitterly cold, and the thin layer of frost on the ground made it slippery to step on. Stepping on the dry grass made a harsh, cracking sound that carried far through the quiet factory area.

But these twenty or so men arrived earlier than the last.

Some had their hands tucked in, some had their necks hunched, and others had their hands cupped around their mouths, constantly exhaling white breath.

Liang Tiejun arrived first, wearing an old cotton-padded coat covered with patches, with some frost still clinging to the brim of his hat.

Looking at the group of longing workers, he felt a mix of emotions. He wanted to say something to comfort them, but his throat moved, and in the end, it turned into a sigh. He just sat there smoking one cheap cigarette after another.

Behind them, Zhang Dafa followed with a dark expression.

His complexion was terrible today; his eyes were dark and his mouth was drooping, as if he had been slapped hard several times at home last night.

Liang Tiejun glanced at him, exhaled a puff of smoke, and casually asked, "Old Zhang, didn't you sleep well last night? Your eyes are so dark, you look like you just crawled out of a coal pile."

Zhang Dafa suddenly stopped, made a gurgling sound in his throat, and mumbled an "Mmm": "It's windy, the whistling is unsettling, I couldn't sleep soundly."

Zhao Shanhe was the last to arrive, his shoulders covered with snowflakes shaken off the tree branches.

Zhao Shanhe walked to the front and tapped his knuckles heavily twice on the peeling paint of the table: "Is everyone here? Nobody's hiding in bed waiting for lunch, is that right?"

The twenty or so men below were silent for a moment, and then Zhu Zi's loud voice took the lead in shouting.

"Director Zhao, what are you saying! Forget lunch, even if it's raining knives right now, I'd still run over here with a washbasin on my head!"

Zhu Zi rubbed his frostbitten hands, his eyes fixed on the brown paper bag on the table. He exhaled puffs of breath and shouted, "Last night, my mom heard me say we'd get our full paychecks today, and she didn't sleep a wink. She insisted I come and wait before dawn. If I don't get it back, she'll definitely whip me out with a broom handle!"

A burst of laughter erupted from the crowd, and the tense atmosphere eased slightly.

"That's right, Director Zhao. We've been waiting for this hot meal for ages."

Ma Jianmin chimed in from behind, his voice still tinged with timidity, but his eyes gleamed with undisguised gleam: "As long as the money's right, forget about the cat's bedding, I'll bring my own bedding to the workshop from now on! Anyone who tries to make me leave, I'll fight them!"

"Director Zhao, is that bag really filled with cash?"

Old Xu asked in a muffled voice from the side, his hands clenched tightly in his sleeves, his cloudy old eyes full of probing.

It's no wonder they were suspicious; the Red Star Factory hadn't seen bundles of "Da Tuanjie" (a type of traditional Chinese currency) in far too long.

Zhao Shanhe didn't say anything, but simply gestured with his chin towards the accountant.

The accountant pushed up his glasses, and with a ripping sound, reached out and ripped open the opening of the brown paper bag.

Inside, stacks of Chinese yuan bills were neatly stacked, emitting a captivating aroma of ink in the dimly lit room.

"hiss--"

A collective gasp of cold air filled the room.

The young workers who had originally wanted to join in the commotion were now completely stunned, their mouths agape.

Zhu Zi suddenly took half a step forward, his nostrils flaring: "Really...really cash! My goodness, how many stacks of that are?"

"See? The money is right here, not a penny less."

Zhao Shanhe reached out and placed his hand on the stack of money, his gaze fixed on Lao Xu and Zhu Zi.

"I know the factory has mistreated you all in the past, making you all feel ashamed at home. This money is to give you all a chance to prove yourselves right. Take this money, go home, pay off the debts you owe the convenience store next door for cigarettes and alcohol, and buy your wives and kids something decent. What I want is for you all, starting tomorrow, to throw away that 'wait-to-die' mentality and do your jobs the best you can in the whole province!"

"Director Zhao, please put your mind at ease!"

Zhu Zi patted his chest, shaking the dust off his cotton-padded coat, and his voice was so loud it almost lifted the roof off.

"Anyone who takes the money and does nothing, you don't even need to lift a finger, I, Zhu Zi, will be the first to break both their legs and feed them to the dogs!"

"Yes! Follow Factory Director Zhao!"

"From now on, wherever Factory Director Zhao points, we'll attack!"

In an instant, the heat inside the small office was even hotter than the sweltering summer heat outside, and the energy of the twenty-odd men was completely ignited by this bag of money.

Liang Tiejun sat smoking a pipe beside them, watching the group of workers with red eyes and shouting, his own eyes also getting a little wet.

"Alright, alright! Quiet down, all of you. Does yelling put food on the table?"

Zhao Shanhe grabbed the stack of ten-yuan notes and pointed at the accountant beside him: "Do you still want to get paid? Anyone who wants money, listen up! When your name is called, come up and collect it. After you've collected it, get back to work!"

The accountant pushed up his glasses, his throat dry, and called out, "Old Xu."

Old Xu strode forward, his hands clenched tightly inside his sleeves.

The accountant counted out the bills and put them on the table: "The ones owed before, plus this month's, will be paid off first."

Old Xu stared at the stack of money, his hands covered in calluses, and his movements were somewhat numb when he touched the bills.

He didn't say anything, folded the money in half and stuffed it into his pocket. When he looked up, his eyes were red.

"Ma Jianmin."

Ma Jianmin was startled and rubbed his hands vigorously on his cotton-padded coat before daring to stick them out.

When he received the money, his hands trembled like leaves, and tears fell onto the back of his hands with a thud.

Zhao Shanhe reached out and patted Ma Jianmin on the shoulder, his voice soft: "Master Ma, this money is what you earned with your hard work. Take it home and let your wife buy you some meat and a new dress for the kids. I, Zhao Shanhe, know that the factory has wronged you all."

Ma Jianmin swallowed hard, then nodded, choking back tears: "Director Zhao... I won't say anything more, let's see how things go."

The accountant adjusted his glasses and repeated, "Pillar!"

Zhu Zi reacted the fastest this time, practically leaping out in one step. He originally wanted to pretend to be more composed like Lao Xu, but when he actually held that thick stack of ten-yuan notes in his hand, he couldn't suppress his excitement, and his face instantly turned as red as a monkey's bottom.

He chuckled foolishly, rubbing his hand on the seam of his pants while instinctively looking down and counting.

"What a spineless person."

Old Chen spoke up in a low voice from the side.

"Take the money and go back inside to give it to your mother so she can seal the cracks in the windows as soon as possible. Keep the rest to yourself; don't go out and waste it with those hooligans. You're not married yet; this money is for your household expenses, understand?"

Zhu Zi's ears turned even redder, and he hurriedly stuffed the money deep into his clothes, muttering resentfully.

"Master, I know what's important... I definitely won't touch it this time, I'll save it to buy you good cigarettes later."

Several experienced workers around them started laughing.

Zhao Shanhe reached out and patted Zhu Zi on the shoulder, his voice low but firm: "Zhu Zi, your master is right. This money is meant to let your family hold their heads high. You're in the first batch on the list. If you can't figure out this machine later, it won't just be embarrassing for me, it will be embarrassing for your master too."

Zhu Zi suddenly stood up straight, his voice filled with a desperate, reckless intensity: "Director Zhao, Master, you can rest assured! From now on, this foreign machine is like my own father. I'll eat and live there. If I can't get used to it, I'll change my name!"

The accountant continued reading out names, and stacks of money were handed out from the table.

The chill in the air seemed to be pushed aside by the heat of the real money landing.

A dozen or so figures had appeared at the warehouse entrance, craning their necks higher and higher. One of them asked in a low voice, "Did you really make it big?"

A voice replied from inside: "We really made it! Factory Director Zhao said that as long as the work is done well, there will be plenty of money to go around!"

After watching the last person receive their money, Zhao Shanhe took half a step forward and looked at the twenty or so men.

"Now that the money's been paid, everyone can finally breathe a sigh of relief. I know many people outside are laughing at us, saying that Hongxing Factory is finished. But as long as we twenty-odd people keep our jobs, this factory won't go down!"

"From now on, as long as I'm here, we won't have any of that empty talk in our factory. As long as you do a good job, I'll make sure you get paid; if anyone has any real difficulties at home, just tell me, and the factory will definitely help you out."

In an instant, the spirits of those twenty or so people were completely united, and the gleam in their eyes was more dazzling than the snow outside.

Just as this enthusiasm reached its peak, a series of hurried footsteps suddenly came from outside the door.

Ergazi burst in headfirst, his face flushed red, his shoulders covered in snow.

"Brother Shanhe!"

Everyone in the room turned around at once, and Ergaizi was panting like a bellows.

"At the door...a person with a strange accent has arrived at the door."

Zhao Shanhe frowned: "Who?"

Erga swallowed hard, his voice trembling, "They said... experts from Hong Kong, and they brought several large suitcases!"