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

Upon hearing this, Zhao Shanhe couldn't help but laugh:

"Uncle Zhou, you're the factory's most skilled and respected master craftsman. If even you run off with me, the factory manager will turn around and head to Kaoshantun to block my door. He'll probably poke my forehead and accuse me of undermining the country."

Hearing this, Old Zhou snorted heavily, casually patted his greasy cotton hat on his knee, sending up a layer of fine dust.

"Screw this poaching! Outsiders may not know how bad the factory is doing, but we know perfectly well. They haven't even paid the workers' wages in full for almost two months. Are we just sitting around starving? Even the most secure job is useless if it doesn't provide enough food. Holding onto it will only keep us from starving!"

Old Zhou turned his head and glanced again at the mangled Jiefang truck, his eyes revealing the shrewdness and insight characteristic of an old worker:

"Shanhe, I've watched you grow step by step. Others might not understand, but I know it perfectly well. In this world, relying on a fixed salary won't last long. Only capable and courageous people can lead everyone to success. I wasn't just saying that casually. If you just nod your head, I'll write a report for a leave of absence without pay and come to Kaoshantun with my toolbox to find you right away!"

Zhao Shanhe grinned, spat the half-smoked cigarette butt out on the ground, and smothered it on his tongue, his tone half-joking and half-serious:

"Alright, Uncle Zhou, I feel more at ease knowing you've said that. Once I've completely sorted things out, if Kaoshantun really manages to build its own fleet, I'll definitely give you the top spot. Don't complain about the bumpy mountain roads then."

"It's a deal! Anyone who complains is a coward!"

Old Zhou grinned from ear to ear, and was about to boast a few more words when suddenly a series of hurried and heavy footsteps came from the front door.

Immediately afterwards, a man's voice, clearly tinged with anger, rang out from a great distance:

"Master! Where is Master?!"

"Who repairs cars here? Someone come out and take a look! Our car broke down on the way here, and we have urgent business this afternoon, we can't afford to be late!"

The sound was getting closer.

The smile on Old Zhou's face immediately faded.

Just now, when he was talking to Zhao Shanhe, he was grinning with a mouthful of yellow teeth, but now, hearing that arrogant tone as soon as he walked in, his brows immediately furrowed into a knot.

He took the cigarette off his ear, slowly put it back in his mouth, and without even turning around, simply gestured with his chin to his apprentice who was washing parts not far away:

"Didn't you hear someone calling back the soul?"

"Let's go out and take a look."

Just as the young apprentice was about to stand up, four or five people rushed in through the main entrance.

Leading the way was a middle-aged man around forty years old, not very tall, but with an air of authority.

He was wearing a crisp, dark gray wool coat, with a fine wool scarf around his neck, and a pair of black leather shoes with three joints that had been polished to a shine. Unfortunately, after being rummaged around on the roadside, the shoe uppers and trouser legs were splattered with yellow mud, making him look rather disheveled.

A driver in his thirties followed closely behind him, his padded jacket sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hands covered in black engine oil, and sweat beading on his forehead. He hunched over, explaining timidly the whole way:

"Boss, it's not that I was lazy and didn't maintain the engine! I specifically checked the oil level with the dipstick before leaving, and the coolant level in the radiator was full! Who knew that as soon as I climbed that gentle slope in Wulipu, the water temperature gauge went crazy and jumped straight to the red line, and then the engine shut off. I changed the spark plug, but I just couldn't get it to start..."

"Alright, alright! Stop making excuses and gossiping!"

The middle-aged man impatiently swung his arm, glaring fiercely at the driver whose hands were covered in grease.

"If you dare to mess with me again, you'd better pack your bags and get out of here! I'm paying you 58.5 yuan a month, not so you can sit in the driver's seat and act like a king! You, as the driver, should know better than I do where the car is moving, where the oil needs changing, and where the screws need tightening!"

The driver's face flushed red and then turned pale as he was scolded. His lips moved a few times, but he didn't dare to talk back. He could only lower his head and mutter a reply:

"Got it, boss..."

The middle-aged man snorted heavily, too lazy to pay him any more attention. He looked up and glanced around the repair shed, quickly spotting Old Zhou, the oldest man, covered in grease and clearly the oldest.

He had a good eye and immediately recognized that Old Zhou was the real master craftsman in this repair shop.

The middle-aged man strode over, his tone much more polite than when he had just entered:

"Sir, you're the one who repairs cars here, right?"

"Our jeep just broke down in Wulipu. I have something urgent to do this afternoon. Could you please go over and take a look and see what's wrong?"

As he spoke, he reached into the inside pocket of his woolen overcoat, pulled out a few neatly folded ten-yuan bills, took one out, and casually handed it to Old Zhou:

"Thank you for your trouble."

"If it's a minor problem and you can fix it for me today, this will be a separate bonus for your hard work. The repair fees due to the factory will be calculated separately, not a penny less."

Old Zhou glanced down at the brand-new ten-yuan note with a steelworker's image printed on it, which was handed to him.

Back then, an ordinary worker could only earn thirty or forty yuan a month after working themselves to the bone. This one ten-yuan note was equivalent to Old Zhou's wages for a week of hard work in the factory in the freezing cold.

Normally, or if it were a fellow villager who came in very politely, this would indeed be a huge honor and a great deal of profit.

But what kind of temper does Old Zhou have? He's been a tough guy who's spent his whole life hammering iron in the old state-owned factory, and he hates people like this who come in, put on airs, and treat people like dogs, then turn around and throw a couple of bills at them to get rid of them. The old man heard very clearly the middle-aged man's arrogant cursing of the driver in the yard just now.

Old Zhou didn't even lift his hand, leaving the large ten-yuan note hanging in mid-air.

Seeing that the old man was not moving, with the brand-new ten-yuan note hanging in mid-air, the middle-aged man didn't know whether to accept it or hand it over. He assumed that the old man in this small town was putting on airs because he felt that the extra money he was being paid was not generous enough.

The middle-aged man gritted his teeth, his hand holding the banknotes moved forward another half inch, his tone revealing a politeness tinged with suppressed clenching of his teeth:

"Sir, please bear with me. If you think it's too little, we can discuss it. As long as your skills are excellent and you can get me to my lunch appointment this afternoon without any problems, I'll give you another ten-yuan note after you've fixed the car, making it a total of twenty! I definitely won't let you work for nothing."

Upon hearing this, Old Zhou was not moved at all; instead, he let out a heavy sneer.

He slowly finished the last puff of his cigarette, raised his large, blackened hand, and in front of the middle-aged man, spat the cigarette butt mixed with a mouthful of thick, yellow phlegm right in front of the man's shiny leather shoes.

"Add another one? What a grand boss!"

Old Zhou glanced at him sideways, grabbed the large adjustable wrench next to him, and smashed it on the scrap metal box next to him with a loud, ear-piercing clang.

The shock made the middle-aged man's eyelids twitch involuntarily, and his hand instinctively recoiled as he handed over the money.

Old Zhou didn't even bother to stand up. He just sat there casually on the rotten wooden box, looked him up and down, and said in a sarcastic tone:

"Boss, you have money in your pocket, but do you have a vehicle repair dispatch certificate from the county transportation bureau? Do you have a letter of introduction from your commune or production brigade?"

The middle-aged man was taken aback by the question, a hint of confusion flashing in his eyes: "Huh? What proof? It's my private car, I'm paying for the repairs myself, what kind of letter of introduction do I need?"

"No?"

Old Zhou's lips twitched downwards, and he gave a cold snort:

"What are you doing here spouting nonsense to me! Open your eyes and look at the top of the gate. It clearly says on the banner—State-owned County Agricultural Machinery Repair and Manufacturing Plant!"

Old Zhou pointed the wrench in his hand toward the office shed, and with a tongue as fluent as popping beans, he rattled off all the old, oppressive rules of state-owned factories that had been in place for decades:

"We're a government agency, not some roadside beggar's stunt stall! For a government agency to take on outside work, first, we need a formal letter of introduction from the agency; second, we need to register and get a number from the dispatch office; and third, the workshop director needs to sign off on it, the finance department needs to approve it, and a three-part form needs to be issued with the official seal. Only then will the money go directly into the government's main account!"

Old Zhou glanced at the brand-new ten-yuan note with a cold smile, his eyes full of mockery:

"Passing money privately? That's called bribery and corruption of public workers, disrupting production order! If we're really going to follow the rules, I can call the security department right now to take you to the police station as a speculator!"

Old Zhou flicked his wrist, shoved the wrench into the pocket of his tattered work clothes, turned his back to him, and bluntly said:

"Go to the county transportation bureau or traffic management office and get all the paperwork done before you come back to queue! If you don't have all the paperwork, even if the Emperor himself is sitting on his throne and smoking in the palace, you'll be left standing on the roadside in Wulipu, freezing in the northwest wind!"

As the middle-aged man listened, his face turned from white to red, then from red to purple, and the flesh on his entire face twitched uncontrollably.

His business has been going well these past two years, and he has a few people working for him. They call him "boss" all the time. Plus, he is much wealthier than most people, so he has gradually developed a habit of doing things for money and ordering people around.

Ultimately, he's only just started to make a name for himself.

Normally, when people need help with car repairs, moving goods, or running errands, they'd happily give him an extra three or five yuan. But this was the first time he'd ever encountered someone refuse to take ten yuan offered to him, and even when he offered twenty, they'd snatch it back right in front of him.

Old Zhou's combination of regulations and letters of introduction left him bewildered, leaving him unsure whether to get angry or not.

If you lose your temper, he's a seasoned veteran in the state-owned factory, impervious to both soft and hard approaches, and he even has his car repair tools in his hand. If you really make a scene, you'll be the one who gets beaten up and humiliated.

If he didn't lose his temper, he would be humiliated in front of his drivers, and his "Boss Sun" face would be torn off and stomped on in the mud.

The middle-aged man felt a surge of anger stuck in his throat, unable to swallow or spit it out. His chest heaved violently, and his hand, which was hanging in mid-air holding banknotes, trembled several times before he awkwardly withdrew it, forcing back all the profanities that were on the tip of his tongue.

Old Zhou didn't even bother to look at the middle-aged man again, turning his head away like a leech, and gesturing with his chin towards Zhao Shanhe, who was leaning against the car wheel smoking:

"Alright, Shanhe, the main frame and beams are basically straightened with jacks, so don't just sit here freezing. I know what the rest of the work is. Before you leave work today, I'll personally take a few apprentices to work overtime for you and check the water tank and drive shaft. It's cold and the roads are slippery, so you should head back to Kaoshantun as soon as it's still light."

Zhao Shanhe spat the cigarette butt out of his mouth, stomped it out, picked up his cotton-padded coat from the oil drum, shook it out, put it on, and laughed:

"Alright, Uncle Zhou, then I'll trouble you to take care of it."

"What a pain! Get the hell out of here!"

The middle-aged man, who was standing to the side feeling stifled and angry, suddenly froze when he heard the words "mountains and rivers" and "Kaoshantun".

Mountains and rivers? Kaoshantun?

He subconsciously turned his head in the direction Old Zhou was speaking.

When she looked up, her gaze fell directly on the tall, young man who was buttoning his shirt.

The middle-aged man first glanced at Zhao Shanhe's plain, faded cotton-padded jacket, then moved his gaze upwards to see his sharply defined, angular face and his broad, imposing frame, which resembled a black iron wall.

The middle-aged man looked at the face more and more familiar it seemed. A shadow from the depths of his memory, long forgotten, slowly overlapped with the solidly built young man in front of him.

His face twitched twice, his feet involuntarily took half a step forward, and he craned his neck, tentatively opening his mouth:

"You...you're Zhao Shanhe, right?"