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

"Bang!"

The door panel slammed into Wang Guowei's nose almost touching.

A shard of broken porcelain from the teacup bounced out from under the door and landed crisply on his muddy, snow-covered cotton shoes.

A cold wind swept down the dark stairwell, making Wang Guowei shiver violently.

He stood frozen outside the door, his mind buzzing.

He never imagined that his aunt, who had treated him like royalty since childhood and always fed him the best food and drink, would actually dare to lay a hand on him today.

Wang Guowei raised his hand and rubbed his mouth hard with the back of his hand, which was covered in frostbite.

The bit of braised pork fat that hadn't been wiped clean from the corner of my mouth had solidified into a layer of white grease when the cold wind blew it, making my mouth feel disgusting.

My stomach was still empty, and I was so hungry that my stomach was churning with acid reflux.

"Pooh!"

Wang Guowei spat fiercely on the ground, his triangular eyes slowly filling with bloodshot veins.

A family of mad dogs.

Zhang Dafa is a greedy and ungrateful wretch, while Sun Guifen is an even more ruthless and heartless old shrew.

He wrapped his tattered, drafty cotton-padded coat tightly around himself, then turned and stumbled downstairs.

The draft in the hallway made his bones ache, but the cold resentment in his heart slithered out like a venomous snake.

Wang Guowei has been living comfortably at the Hongxing Factory for so many years, when has he ever suffered such humiliation?

Ultimately, it's all that Zhao's fault!

If Zhao Shanhe hadn't started some ridiculous performance evaluation as soon as he took office, trying to squeeze all the factory's quotas and lucrative opportunities, how could Zhang Dafa have been so terrified? How could those old workshop directors who usually turned a blind eye to him have looked at him like he was a piece of dog shit?

Sure.

Wang Guowei walked out of the dormitory building, glanced up at the few lifeless searchlights of the Hongxing Machinery Factory in the distance, and a sinister smirk appeared on his lips.

Didn't Zhao Shanhe want to be a living devil? Didn't they say that the Red Star Factory didn't support rich kids?

The factory employs hundreds of people who have been eating rotten cabbage and radishes for half a month straight, their wages unpaid, and their bellies growling with hunger. This pent-up resentment has been building up for so long that it's like a powder keg ready to explode at any moment.

If he can't defeat Zhao Shanhe by himself, does that mean he can't defeat the workers in the entire factory who can't even get a full meal?

Wang Guowei sniffed his nose, which was red from the cold, and changed direction. Instead of going to the single dormitory near the family building, he trudged towards the most secluded row of bungalows near the equipment entrance.

That was the break room for the equipment repair team.

The wooden door was ajar, and dim light and a strong smell of cheap tobacco wafted through the crack.

Faintly, one could still hear the sounds of playing cards being slammed inside, as well as a few suppressed curses.

"What a fucking life! I went to the cafeteria today, and the cornbread was so hard it could kill a dog, and even the hot soup was just dishwater!"

"Stop complaining and play your cards! They've been delaying our salaries for half a month now. It's obvious the higher-ups are trying to kill us old guys so they can make room for that new Zhao guy."

"Why? I've worked in this factory for over ten years. I've put in a lot of hard work, if not great achievements. How dare Zhao Shanhe treat us like freeloaders with just a few words? I'm quitting tomorrow! Let's see how he produces anything then!"

Listening to the resentful words of the group of old hands inside, Wang Guowei stood in the cold wind, a sinister smile slowly spreading across his face.

His narrow eyes darted around in the darkness, and his calculations were already crystal clear.

Didn't Zhang Dafa want to be Zhao Shanhe's loyal dog?

So he simply set the fire on fire completely, roasting Zhang Dafa along with it.

He wanted to see if his good uncle would still have the leisure to stay up all night working overtime in the workshop when the hungry workers in the factory really started to make a fuss!

Wang Guowei reached out and vigorously rubbed his frozen cheeks, completely suppressing his resentment and forcing out a fawning and resentful smile.

With a creak.

He pushed open the broken wooden door to the lounge.

"Hey, Brother Li, Master Wang, are you guys still up late on an empty stomach?"

Noon the next day.

As soon as the lunch bell rang at the Hongxing Machinery Factory, a long queue formed at the canteen entrance.

The winter wind blew in through the open spaces between the factory buildings, making people's ears hurt.

A group of workers, carrying tin lunchboxes, stood in front of the window, their necks hunched, their shoes crunching on the frozen mud.

No one in the group was joking or laughing.

The atmosphere in the factory has been off lately; everyone can tell.

Since Liang Jiajun died, the new factory director, Zhao Shanhe, has vanished as if he had disappeared into thin air, and hasn't shown his face in public for almost half a month.

Those German-imported machines, acquired at great expense, were locked up in Workshop No. 1. Apart from the occasional muffled roar at night, not even a scrap of iron was seen being transported out. Nobody knew what kind of big move was being prepared inside.

Even worse, with the city completely cutting off the quotas for unified purchase and sales, the defective products produced in the old warehouse were piled up like a mountain of scrap iron, and they couldn't be sold at all. The factory's cash flow was completely cut off.

Paying wages is becoming increasingly difficult.

In the past, at least we could get 30-40% of the salary each month, which was barely enough for everyone to buy some sorghum flour to eat.

This month, the windows of the finance department were locked. They had been in arrears for almost two weeks and hadn't seen a single penny.

Without money, the workers' bellies shrank even further.

The steamed buns in the canteen got darker and harder every day, and when you broke them open, they were full of cornmeal and sweet potato flour that stung your throat.

The vegetable buckets were even worse, with only a few pitiful specks of oil floating on top of the clear broth. It was either rotten cabbage stewed with coarse radish or coarse radish stewed with rotten cabbage.

The young apprentices in the queue were so hungry that their eyes were blue. They stared intently at the chipped aluminum dish in front of them, swallowing hard.

Behind the food serving window, Old Ma, who was in charge of the ladle, lowered his head and casually stirred the food in the half-person-high iron bucket with his large iron ladle.

"Clang!"

Half a spoonful of bland cabbage stalks was thrown into the lunchbox of the worker in front of him.

There was hardly any oil, and you couldn't even smell any meat.

Old Ma then grabbed two blackened and hardened cornbread buns from the basket next to him and threw them onto the lid of the lunchbox.

The worker looked down and his already sallow face immediately fell.

"Old Ma, is that all?"

Old Ma didn't look up, tapped the edge of the iron bucket with the spoon in his hand, and said in a muffled voice, "There are still people behind us."

"Is that all you're asking?"

The worker slammed his lunchbox onto the cement platform, spilling soup that splashed onto Old Ma's greasy apron. "I moved half a truckload of scrap materials in the workshop this morning, and this is what I get for lunch? Is this feeding pigs or feeding humans?"

Old Ma was also a little embarrassed, and said in a low voice, "The quota is only so much. The factory doesn't have money to buy vegetables. There's no use yelling at me."

Someone behind them added sarcastically.

"If yelling at you is useless, then who is it useful to yell at?"

"My salary is two weeks late, and the food is getting thinner and thinner every day. How the hell am I supposed to live like this?"

Immediately, someone in the group chimed in impatiently.

"Yeah, why are today's cornbread buns smaller again?"

"My child is waiting for the back pay to buy winter boots. If this drags on any longer, the whole family will starve."

"They hold meetings every day talking about how difficult things are at the factory. Are they so difficult that they can't even give us a decent meal?"

"difficulty?"

In the middle of the line, someone suddenly let out a cold laugh.

"Not everyone faces difficulties."

As soon as these words were spoken, the noisy crowd suddenly fell into an eerie silence.

The people holding lunchboxes looked at each other, their frozen faces revealing a subtle expression.

The man, with his sleeves tucked in, continued to deliver the message in a sarcastic and ambiguous manner.

"Didn't everyone on the first list pay their wages in full?"

"Old Chen and the others get full pay, so I won't say anything. They're experienced workers, and they have skills."

"What about those new recruits in the security department?"

"Just throw on a coat, stand at a door, and have a bunch of keys tucked into your belt—why should you get full pay?"

"We work ourselves to the bone in the workshop, inhaling dust, yet we're owed wages and forced to drink dishwater."

"What kind of rule is this?"

These words were like a famous match struck and falling straight into a pile of firewood that had long since dried up.

The drafty canteen tent suddenly became eerily quiet.

Immediately afterwards, with a buzz, the discussions that had been suppressed for half a month exploded everywhere.

"Are those guys in the security department really getting full pay?"

"They already took it! I even saw them buying pig's head meat after get off work!"

"Not only is it full pay, but I heard there's also a subsidy for night shifts!"

"Why should we? Before, when the old security department took bribes, Director Zhao just told them to get rid of them. Now that a new group of people are getting full pay, why is nobody complaining?"

"They were personally assigned to our unit by Factory Director Zhao, what can you do about it?"

The greasy, long table in the corner.

Sun Weidong sat on the bench with his lunchbox in his hand, listening to the surrounding discussions, his face already flushed red.

He stared intently at the half-spoon of sour-smelling cabbage soup in the lunchbox, finding it increasingly irritating.

Last time in the auditorium, he was humiliated by Zhao Shanhe, who pinned him to the stage in front of the entire factory.

None of the dozen or so coworkers at the equipment station, who usually treated him like a brother, dared to raise their hands for him.

Even now, when he thinks about the scene, he feels as if he's been slapped hundreds of times across the face, and the pain is still burning.

When Zhao Shanhe was around, he cowered like a quail, not daring to utter a single word.

But Zhao Shanhe hasn't shown up for half a month now.

The factory can't pay its employees, and everyone is cursing.

Why should he have to swallow his pride like a grandson?

"Bang!"

Sun Weidong suddenly stood up, swung the aluminum lunchbox in his hand, and slammed it hard onto the wooden table.

With a "whoosh".

Half a box of cabbage soup, mixed with hard cornbread, flew out and splashed soup all over the floor.

The noisy cafeteria fell silent instantly.

Hundreds of hungry, green eyes stared at them.

Sun Weidong stiffened his reddened neck, his eyes bursting with long-suppressed madness and resentment, his voice sharp and distorted.

"Is this even fit for human consumption?!"

He kicked over the bench and started cursing at the leftover food on the ground.

"Their wages are owed and they're not paying them; the food they eat is getting thinner and thinner!"

"Those newbies in the security department get full pay just for standing guard at the gate, while we factory workers are just supposed to drink dishwater?"

"Why should I?!"

This roar completely tore through the last layer of paper that was preventing the Red Star Factory from opening up.

It was as if it ignited all the pent-up acid and anger that everyone had been holding in for half a month.

The cafeteria was in complete chaos.

"Yeah, why should we?!"

"We're all from the Red Star Factory!"

"Director Zhao said we had no objection to clearing out the old security department, but what is this now? They're just replacing us with another group of our own people to continue eating meat, while the rest of us go hungry!"

"If we're going to set rules, then everyone should be treated equally!"

"Yes! Treat everyone equally!"

Someone with red eyes took the lead and shouted.

Immediately afterward, the hungry young apprentice next to him also started shouting at the top of his lungs.

Treat everyone equally!

"Pay salaries! Treat everyone equally!"

At first, the sounds were chaotic, mixed with the thuds of lunchboxes being smashed.

As more and more people shouted, their voices gradually coalesced, twisting into a massive sound wave that nearly lifted the roof off the cafeteria, making the glass of the food serving window vibrate.