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

Just as the noise was growing louder, a loud shout suddenly came from the entrance of the cafeteria.

"Shut the fuck up, all of you!"

That shout was like a hammer slamming into a tin bucket, forcefully silencing the chaotic clamor.

Everyone instinctively turned around. They saw Zhang Dafa striding in through the door with a dark expression.

He was still wearing that wrinkled old cotton-padded jacket, and his eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion; he had clearly rushed over from the office.

As soon as Zhang Dafa entered, he saw soup spilled all over the floor and an overturned bench. There was a worker clutching a lunchbox, his eyes red, and Old Ma behind the window, his face pale with fright.

Zhang Dafa's chest heaved heavily, and he slammed his hand on the dining table next to him.

"Bang!"

"What the hell are you all trying to do?"

"A rebellion?!"

The shout made many people in the cafeteria shrink back.

Several of the young workers who had been shouting the loudest earlier froze in mid-air, their hands holding lunchboxes. Zhang Dafa's eyes were bloodshot, like a cornered ox, his gaze sweeping across each face.

"First, smash the lunchbox, then kick the chair."

He took a step closer, pointing at the mess of cabbage soup and the overturned benches, his voice rising higher and higher: "Are you going to turn the cafeteria upside down next? And then storm the finance office?"

"Then everyone just stormed into Workshop No. 1 and dismantled all those imported machines to sell for scrap metal! In the end, our Red Star Factory went bankrupt and closed down. Nobody had to work anymore, and we were all just going to starve on the streets, right?!"

The cafeteria was deathly quiet.

You could hear a pin drop.

Only the half-eaten box of cabbage soup on the ground was still slowly seeping into the low-lying area through the cracks in the cement floor.

Zhang Dafa took a deep breath, but his voice didn't come down.

"The food is terrible, and wages aren't being paid. Do you think I, Zhang Dafa, don't know that? I know better than any of you!"

"But what's the situation in the factory right now? You work in the workshop every day, don't you know?"

At this point, he suddenly ripped open the buttons of his wrinkled old cotton-padded jacket, revealing an old sweater underneath that was empty and let in the wind.

"To revitalize this factory, Director Liang and I haven't been home for over a month!"

"I make do with eating on that old wooden sofa in the office every night! I also eat from the same pot as everyone else; you guys drink cabbage soup, and we drink the same oil-free cabbage soup!"

Zhang Dafa pounded his noticeably sunken chest, his eyes flashing with a chilling ruthlessness.

"Open your eyes wide and take a good look! Look at me, then look at Lao Liang!"

"How many pounds have we lost in the past month?! Did the dog eat all that weight we've lost?!"

These few words completely extinguished the simmering unrest in the cafeteria.

These few words shattered the tension in the cafeteria, which had been on the verge of erupting, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over its head.

Many workers instinctively avoided Zhang Dafa's eyes.

Only then did they belatedly realize that Zhang Dafa had indeed lost weight.

Just over a month ago, he was a deputy factory director with a slightly protruding belly and an oily face.

But now, with the old cotton-padded coat open, the faded sweater underneath hangs loosely on her body, leaving a gap around her waist and abdomen. Her cheeks are noticeably sunken, her eyes are bloodshot from lack of sleep, and her eye bags droop heavily.

The former deputy factory director, who used to always hold a teacup and speak slowly, now looks like an old ox that has been working non-stop in the cold wind for a month.

Think about Liang Tiejun again.

These days, Director Liang has indeed been going around the factory every day.

His old military overcoat could be seen everywhere: in Workshop No. 1, the equipment warehouse, the factory office, the finance department, the canteen, and the warehouse.

Sometimes, before dawn, when the workers were heading to their early shifts, they would see Liang Tiejun standing at the workshop entrance smoking.

Sometimes during the midnight shift change, the security department would see him walking around the factory area with his hands behind his back.

Everyone can see that.

The young apprentices who had been shouting the loudest moments before suddenly lost much of their temper.

Someone looked down at the cabbage soup in their lunchbox, their lips moved, but they didn't say anything more.

Zhang Dafa, panting heavily, looked around the entire cafeteria.

"I know you have grievances in your hearts."

"Who can feel comfortable with wages being owed?"

"When the food gets worse, who wouldn't have a rumbling stomach?"

He raised his finger and pointed towards Workshop No. 1 outside, his voice even hoarser.

"But you also need to know that the Red Star Factory is not the same Red Star Factory it used to be."

"The quotas for unified purchase and sales have been cut off, and those defective products in the old warehouses can't be sold. What's sitting in the accounts isn't money, it's just a pile of dead iron."

"If that German machine can't get going, this factory will really be doomed."

Zhang Dafa's voice echoed in the empty, drafty cafeteria, carrying a hoarse tone of desperation.

"Old Chen and his gang get full pay, not because they're arrogant."

"It's because they're hunched over that machine all day, touching the circuits, cleaning the oil lines, and checking the blueprints. Their eyes are practically bloodshot from exhaustion!"

"The machine not making a sound doesn't mean they haven't been working."

"German machine tools aren't something you can just polish up and expect to make money tomorrow!"

After these words were spoken, the cafeteria quieted down a bit.

Many of the workers who were still feeling resentful exchanged glances, and their anger subsided considerably.

Everyone in the factory knew about the skills and temperament of Old Chen's several level-eight workers. They were truly risking their lives to tackle that tough imported task, so they certainly didn't feel guilty about the money they were getting paid.

Zhang Dafa abruptly changed his tone, his voice hardening again: "But!"

That sharp cry sent everyone's hearts leaping into their throats.

"I'm putting my words here as well."

"If you have grievances, take them out on me."

"You can curse me, Zhang Dafa, or you can curse Director Liang."

"Even if they point their fingers at us and curse our ancestors for eighteen generations, I'd accept it!"

"The Red Star Factory has come to this point because we, the leaders, failed to manage it properly. Making everyone work on empty stomachs is something I, Zhang Dafa, have deeply regretted!"

As he said this, his eyes suddenly sharpened, like a steel blade that had been sharpened, slicing fiercely at the few people who had just joined in the commotion.

"But if anyone uses asking about wages, meals, or lists as an excuse to smash lunchboxes, kick chairs, incite workers to surround the security office, storm the equipment warehouse, or disrupt the factory's production order..."

Zhang Dafa took a step forward, stomped on the half of the broken, blackened bun, and gritted his teeth as he spat out the second half of the sentence.

"I, Zhang Dafa, will be the first to chop him to pieces!"

"Anyone who dares to mess with the Red Star Factory, I'll take away their livelihood! Even if it costs me my job as deputy factory director, I'll personally tie them up and send them to the county bureau, so they can eat cornbread for the rest of their lives!"

The iron-fisted deterrent struck like a final blow.

The entire cafeteria was completely silent, save for the sounds of varying breathing.

Hiding at the very back of the crowd, Wang Guowei tightly tucked his sleeves into his sleeves, a hint of extreme annoyance and malice flashing in his triangular eyes.

That old bastard Zhang Dafa extinguished the fire that Sun Weidong had finally managed to stir up with just a few words.

Not only did they extinguish the fire, but they also conveniently brought out Old Chen and his gang to establish their authority, shifting all the blame back to the saboteurs.

Completely stunning everyone, Zhang Dafa then turned around.

He strode forward, stepping over the rotten vegetable leaves scattered on the ground, and walked step by step to Sun Weidong.

Sun Weidong's stubbornness from before had completely dissipated under Zhang Dafa's combination of kindness and intimidation. Now, looking at the approaching Zhang Dafa, he even unconsciously took a half step back, his lips turning pale.

"Sun Weidong".

Zhang Dafa stopped in front of him, looking down at him, his voice returning to its usual cold, emotionless tone.

"You smashed the lunchbox."

"Now, pick it up for me."

Sun Weidong's Adam's apple bobbed with difficulty. Hundreds of eyes were staring at him from all around, making him feel as if he had been slapped a dozen times across the face, the pain burning intensely.

He tried to stubbornly refuse to back down, but Zhang Dafa's fixed gaze on him was like a mountain crushing the last bit of rebellious spirit in his spine.

"What, you want me to pick it up for you?" Zhang Dafa's eyes flashed with a fierce light.

Sun Weidong shuddered, his last shred of psychological defense completely crumbling.

He slowly bent down, squatted on the ground in humiliation, and stretched out his still trembling hand to pick up the aluminum lunchbox, which was covered in rotten cabbage soup, along with the cornbread covered in mud, bit by bit.

Zhang Dafa coldly watched Sun Weidong pick up the lunchbox, and only after he had gathered the few cornbread buns covered in mud into the lunchbox did he slowly turn around.

His gaze swept across the entire cafeteria.

"What are you all standing there for?"

"Are you going to eat or not?"

No one said a word.

"Eat!" Zhang Dafa suddenly shouted in a low voice, startling the apprentices in the front row. "After you finish eating, go back to your respective workshops and posts!"

"If anyone is truly in need, please register at the factory office this afternoon."

"Anyone who has any objections to wages, the canteen, or the list of employees can write them down and submit them to the workshop director."

The workers gradually sat down with their heads down, and the dull thud of metal lunchboxes hitting wooden tables began again.

The overturned bench was righted up, and the cabbage soup on the ground was haphazardly mopped up by the canteen kitchen helper with a tattered mop, leaving behind greasy streaks of water.

Old Ma stood behind the food serving window, his hands trembling like a leaf, but he finally dared to pick up the big iron ladle again and continue serving food to the people in line behind him.

The fire that had almost overturned the cafeteria was forcefully stomped back into the furnace by Zhang Dafa, leaving not even a spark.

Sun Weidong hunched his shoulders and sat back down in the corner.

The muddy lunchbox was right in front of him, but he was gripping his thighs so tightly that he couldn't even lift his chopsticks. He felt like every gaze around him was a knife scraping his face.

At the back of the crowd, Wang Guowei clenched his teeth, his face so dark it seemed to drip water.

He cursed under his breath.

He never expected that Zhang Dafa could actually hold such a large venue under control all by himself.

That old bastard!

Just as Zhang Dafa turned around, wrapped his tattered cotton-padded coat tighter, and prepared to leave the cafeteria, a hesitant voice suddenly rang out from the back row.

"Deputy Factory Director Zhang."

The voice was not loud, and even sounded somewhat weak due to a lack of confidence.

But as soon as those words were spoken, the workers who had just picked up their lunchboxes stopped in their tracks and all looked up.

Zhang Dafa's foot, which had just stepped out, abruptly stopped in mid-air.

He turned around, his sharp gaze following the sound.

The speaker was an ordinary lathe operator in his thirties, surnamed Tian.

This man is usually a quiet type, but he is a reliable worker and definitely not the kind of person like Sun Weidong who is lazy, cunning, and likes to cause trouble.

That's why, when he saw that it was Zhang Dafa who spoke, Zhang Dafa's expression darkened even more than when he was facing Sun Weidong.

Tian, ​​the mechanic, stood as still as a taut wooden stake, clutching the aluminum lunchbox in his hand.

He looked at Zhang Dafa, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with difficulty, as if he had mustered up immense courage before whispering the question out.

"We know that Director Liang and you have had a tough time lately."

"Old Chen and his team really worked hard working on that German machine."

"Can……"

He paused, lowering his voice even further, yet it carried clearly throughout the drafty greenhouse.

"Where is Factory Director Zhao?"

The cafeteria fell silent.

This silence was different from the one before.

I was stopped by Zhang Dafa yelling at me.

Now, everyone has taken this issue to heart.

Tian, ​​the lathe operator, raised his head. There was no provocation in his eyes, only a long-suppressed unease.

"Such a big thing happened at the factory."

"The wages can't be paid, the canteen is getting worse every day, and Workshop No. 1 is locked up tight."

"Director Zhao... he hasn't shown up for almost half a month."

Where did he go?