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

In the backyard of the staff dormitory, there is a small, half-collapsed shed.

Originally, it was a place in the factory where broken brooms, rotten shovels, and coal stoves were piled up. But later, I don't know when, it became a hideout for a few young workers to secretly play cards and drink after get off work.

The roof was drafty, and the windows were covered with two layers of yellowed old newspapers.

The broken coal stove was burning half-dead, with a ring of choking black smoke billowing out from the edge of the stove lid.

There were six or seven people crammed into the room.

A greasy deck of cards lay on the broken wooden table, a half-empty bottle of strong liquor sat on the corner, and several enamel mugs were scattered haphazardly. The stench of alcohol, smoke, and sweat mingled together, making one's head throb.

Sun Weidong sat on a broken stool against the wall with a gloomy face, half a Daqianmen cigarette dangling from his mouth.

The anger that erupted in the cafeteria during the day was clearly brewing, but Zhang Dafa managed to suppress it with just a few words.

What frustrated and angered him the most was that he didn't even have the courage to confront Zhang Dafa.

No matter how down on his luck Zhang Dafa was, he was still the deputy director of the Hongxing Machinery Factory. While firing a permanent employee was difficult, it was easy to find a pretext to send Sun Weidong to the outhouse to sweep manure with his father – it was just a matter of a few words.

Every time Sun Weidong passed by the toilet, smelling the pungent odor of feces and urine and looking at his father's ashen old face, he felt as if someone had stuffed a handful of burning coal into his heart.

But he could only suppress his anger.

He held it in until dark, then went into this drafty little shack, and used the harshness of cheap liquor to vent his anger.

"I think that bastard Zhao Shanhe has probably packed his bags and run away."

The tall, thin man slammed his hand of bad cards onto the greasy table, sneering, "Hey guys, think about it, how long has it been since he showed up? The factory hasn't paid wages, the canteen's food is getting staleer every day, and Workshop One's locked up like an iron coffin. Where is he?"

Someone nearby immediately chimed in with a sneer: "It's normal that he ran away. Our Red Star Factory is a bottomless pit of problems now; whoever comes here will die in it. When Zhao Shanhe first arrived, he acted like a living devil, but when it came to dealing with tough issues like paying wages, supporting workers, and repairing machines, he was completely lost."

Upon hearing these words, Sun Weidong's gloomy face relaxed slightly.

He picked up the chipped enamel mug and took a big gulp of strong liquor. The pungent liquid burned his eyes, but a mocking sneer curled at the corner of his mouth.

"I told you long ago, Zhao Shanhe is just a loudmouth and a good-for-nothing."

He exhaled a breath of foul-smelling alcohol, his tone filled with an arrogant, all-knowing arrogance: "What kind of swagger can a peasant from Kaoshantun possibly have? He brings back a few pieces of junk and thinks he's some kind of savior? If the factory could survive on a few broken machines, were Director Liang and Deputy Director Zhang raised on shit?"

The young worker next to him, with his pointed face and monkey-like features, tossed a peanut into his mouth, chewed it with a loud crunch, and gave a half-smile.

"From what Dong-ge is saying, when you led the fight against Zhao Shanhe at the factory, it wasn't because your old man was punished by them to clean the toilets, but purely to stand up for the hundreds of workers at our Hongxing Factory?"

"nonsense!"

Sun Weidong pounded his chest loudly, and fueled by alcohol, the veins on his neck bulged: "I was born and raised at the Red Star Factory. Could I just stand by and watch some outsider from the countryside ruin the factory? My father was suffering for all the workers!"

The young worker climbed up the pole and chuckled.

"Why don't you go to the security department and cause a scene, Dong-ge? Or just storm up to the door of Workshop No. 1 and yell at Zhao Shanhe and his gang? If you go and smash the lock on Workshop No. 1 now, show some backbone, maybe the higher-ups will see your tough exterior and transfer your dad back, and even promote you to deputy factory director!"

The cramped little shed suddenly fell silent.

Just moments ago, Sun Weidong was all arrogant, but now he was like a rooster whose neck had been suddenly grabbed; his arrogant posture froze in mid-air.

His face, glistening with oil from drinking, turned a purplish-red from the base of his neck all the way to his forehead.

"You...you don't know anything!"

He hurriedly put down the jar and stammered a curse.

"I'm telling you, a wise man doesn't fight a losing battle, understand? Going head-on with those mad dogs who don't even respect the law is just reckless!"

"I'm waiting for them to mess up Workshop One themselves! Once the higher-ups investigate, the government will take care of them! It's not worth arguing with a few watchdogs right now!"

In order to quickly regain his lost face, Sun Weidong's eyes lit up and he immediately steered the conversation toward the lowest level of society, the easiest to bully.

"I get angry just thinking about watchdogs."

He picked up the chipped enamel mug and took a big gulp of strong liquor. The pungent liquid burned his eyes, but a mocking sneer curled at the corner of his mouth.

"In the past, if any of the elderly people in the security department ate even a little bit of meat, Zhao Shanhe would turn on them without mercy, dismissing them on a whim and sending them to sweep manure on a whim."

A venomous glint flashed in Sun Weidong's eyes: "Now look what's happened! It's those few stray dogs he brought from the village guarding the gate, each with a bunch of keys hanging from their waists, comfortably collecting their full salaries, standing there at the entrance to Workshop Number One, acting like imposing gatekeepers. Why should they?"

He picked up the jar and took another gulp of wine, his chest heaving violently.

"We're all legitimate workers at the Hongxing Factory. We can't even get into our own factory, yet we're being watched like thieves by a few illiterate country bumpkins?"

The young worker next to him immediately chimed in with a sneer: "Exactly, especially that old bachelor Zhao Tiezhu. He looks like a black iron tower, but his brain is a complete blockhead. You could point your finger at him and yell at him to his face, and he wouldn't utter a single sound."

Upon hearing this, a burst of smug laughter filled the room, radiating a sense of superiority.

Sun Weidong also laughed, but the smile, paired with his bloodshot eyes, looked particularly twisted and sinister.

"That idiot is really brainless."

Sun Weidong tapped the ash from his cigarette with a mocking smile: "A few days ago, during the day outside the cafeteria, I deliberately teased him in front of everyone, asking him what he had in common with stray dogs running around in the streets. Guess what that idiot said?"

The people inside immediately perked up and leaned forward to ask, "What did they say?"

Sun Weidong deliberately put on a serious face, mimicking Zhao Tiezhu's honest, stiff, and wooden demeanor, and said in a rough voice, "We're all here to guard the door."

"Ha ha ha ha!"

A deafening burst of laughter erupted from the cramped, dilapidated shack.

Some people laughed so hard they slapped their thighs, while others even spat out the liquor in their mouths and laughed until tears streamed down their faces.

Sun Weidong laughed for a while, but the malice in his eyes spread wildly like weeds.

He stared intently at the flickering kerosene lamp on the table, his voice like shards of glass squeezed out from between his teeth.

"Tell me, why does this stupid thing, stuffed full of sorghum, get to comfortably get a full salary?"

"Why is he allowed to have the key to Workshop No. 1 hanging on his waist?"

"Does he even know what a German machine is?"

"Does he understand the basics of our Red Star Factory?"

"He didn't even know what those foreign gadgets were for!"

"He's just a good-for-nothing who knows nothing!"

Sun Weidong suddenly picked up the enamel mug, gulped down the remaining liquor in one go, and slammed it heavily onto the table.

"That idiot is so simple-minded. He only knows that Zhao Shanhe gave him a chance to make a living and let him guard that place, so he will guard it wholeheartedly."

"Pooh."

Sun Weidong spat a mouthful of thick, smoky phlegm onto the ground, his face full of disdain.

"He's a fucking super dog that Zhao Shanhe raised."

Just then.

"Bang!"

The already loose and dilapidated wooden door of the small shed seemed to have been struck by a mad bull, and it burst open with a loud bang.

A cold wind carrying coal dust rushed in. The laughter inside the room abruptly stopped.