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

In the open air of the southern suburbs branch factory, the cold wind swirled the white snowflakes that fell early in the morning, stinging people's faces.

A muffled thud.

Zhang Dafa and several security guards smashed open the side panel of the truck bed.

The carriage was a mess, piled with scrap metal covered in a thick layer of red rust, broken gears, and even half a carriage of broken bricks used to weigh down the weights.

This is a truckload of utter scrap metal.

The truck driver, wearing a tattered cotton-padded coat, stood in the snow, looking at a group of security officers with red eyes, his face full of confusion and grievance.

"Director Liang, Section Chief Zhang, what are you doing?"

The driver rubbed his frozen hands, explaining with a pained expression, "I'm just a regular driver on the logistics team's shift. Yesterday afternoon, the dispatch office handed me a proper dispatch order, telling me to haul this truckload of scrap metal to the open-air warehouse at the southern suburbs branch this morning. I haven't even touched the goods, I'm just doing my job for a fixed salary. Are you guys arresting a spy?"

Standing in the wind and snow, Liang Tiejun looked at the truckload of broken bricks and scrap metal, and seemed to have aged ten years in an instant.

He waved his hand, his voice hoarse as if it had been sanded: "Let him go. He's just a figurehead, working on orders; the real machines are long gone."

The security officer released his grip, and the driver quickly shrank back and hid to the side.

Zhang Dafa's eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep. He slammed his fist hard against the side of the car, which was covered in ice, causing his knuckles to bleed profusely.

"That damn Li Defu! That old bastard tricked us all!"

Zhang Dafa gritted his teeth, tears welling in his eyes. "Over a million worth of export machinery, just like that, stolen right under our noses!"

Liang Tiejun slowly turned around, walked unsteadily to the edge of the open space, and collapsed onto a rusty, discarded gear as if all his strength had been drained.

He took a deep drag on his cigarette, letting the cold snowflakes fall on his graying hair.

"Old Zhang, do you remember the year our No. 1 blast furnace at the Red Star Plant was ignited?"

Liang Tiejun stared blankly at the swirling snow, his voice drifting far away, "The winter of '68. The two of us, along with the brothers from the workshop, didn't sleep for three days and three nights. The moment the blast furnace produced molten iron, everyone threw their hats into the air, and their voices became hoarse from shouting."

Zhang Dafa walked over, squatted down next to Liang Tiejun in the snowdrift, took out a crumpled cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and his hand holding the cigarette trembled violently.

"How could I not remember?"

Zhang Dafa exhaled a puff of choking smoke and vigorously wiped the icy water off his face. "Back then, we looked so proud walking down the street in our Hongxing Factory canvas work uniforms. Girls in the city would fight tooth and nail to marry into our Hongxing Factory. Even the frontline workers had the aroma of meat in their lunchboxes every day."

Liang Tiejun gave a bitter laugh, a single, cloudy tear squeezing from the corner of his eye, instantly freezing on his wrinkled face.

"But what about now?"

Liang Tiejun pointed at the truck full of junk, his voice so mournful it sent chills down one's spine, "Last month when I went down to the workshop, Old Li's second son, who had just given birth, was only a level-two fitter. His wife had no breast milk, and the baby cried all night from hunger. This grown man, just to buy his wife some crucian carp soup to help her produce milk, went to the market in the middle of the night to collect discarded rotten vegetable leaves, just to save a few cents to buy a small fish fry!"

He slapped himself hard across the face, the sound ringing out clearly.

"That was a chance for thousands of men, young and old, at the Hongxing Factory to change their fate! We've been eagerly anticipating this batch of German machine tools being brought back for export, so that the brothers in the workshop could have dumplings with meat for the New Year!"

Liang Tiejun covered his face with his hands. This tough man in his fifties, who had never flinched even when bleeding and sweating in front of the steel furnace, burst into tears in the snow.

"I didn't even seize this best opportunity! I should have packed my bedding and stayed up all night guarding the warehouse door! Now the machines are gone, and the city will liquidate the factory next month. The livelihoods of thousands of families are all in my hands! What kind of leader am I!"

Looking at Liang Tiejun's appearance, Zhang Dafa felt as if a piece of his heart had been ripped out.

He walked over, squatted down next to Liang Tiejun in the snowdrift, took out a crumpled cigarette from his pocket and lit it, his hand holding the cigarette trembling violently as well.

"If you quit, I'm prepared to quit too."

Zhang Dafa exhaled a puff of choking smoke, roughly wiping the icy water from his face. His voice choked with emotion, "This isn't your fault, it's mine. If I hadn't stopped Zhao Shanhe this morning, if I hadn't thrown a tantrum and insisted he go in sooner, maybe we could have discovered the problem sooner. Maybe then..."

Zhang Dafa looked up at the white blur of their path and asked, "Old Liang, do you think... he can find his way back?"

Liang Tiejun, clutching the cigarette butt that was almost burning his hand, painfully closed his eyes.

"Probably..."

Just as these two veteran workers of the Red Star Factory were plunged into utter despair.

"Ring ring—!"

The old, hand-cranked telephone in the security room of the South Suburb Branch Factory suddenly rang shrilly, like a death knell.

A duty officer ran out and shouted into the open space, "Director Liang! It's an urgent telegram from the main factory's gatehouse! They're looking for you and Section Chief Zhang!"

Liang Tiejun and Zhang Dafa were both startled.

The two scrambled into the security room, and Liang Tiejun grabbed the cold receiver, his hands trembling so much he could barely hold it.

The voice of the security guard at the main factory gate came through the receiver, his voice trembling with excitement: "Director Liang! Hurry back to the main factory! The new factory manager, Zhao, called the guardhouse and said you need to come back immediately to pick up the goods!"

With a "clang," the receiver fell onto the table.

Liang Tiejun and Zhang Dafa exchanged a glance, their eyes instantly blazing with an extremely fanatical light.

After half an hour.

A borrowed jeep screeched to a halt at the gate of the Hongxing General Factory.

Liang Tiejun and Zhang Dafa stumbled and pushed open the car door, tumbling and crawling into the factory square where snow was falling heavily.

"Buzz—!"

A muffled yet violent roar of a heavy diesel engine tore through the snow from the end of the road.

Two extremely dazzling beams of searchlight cleaved through the darkness like sharp swords.

A heavy-duty truck, resembling a steel behemoth with its cargo bed covered by a thick military green tarpaulin, roared into the gates of the Red Star Factory, crushing the ice on the ground.

The truck came to a steady stop in front of Liang Tiejun and Zhang Dafa's noodle shop, the air brakes letting out a long sigh.

"Bang."

The driver's side door was pushed open.

Wearing his snow-covered military overcoat, Zhao Shanhe jumped down from the high driver's seat.

His military boots crunched firmly in the snow as he strode over to Liang Tiejun and Zhang Dafa's noodles.

Looking at these two elderly people with snow-white hair, trembling with excitement.

He stood upright, facing the swirling snow, his gaze fixed firmly on them.

"Director Liang, Deputy Director Zhang."

Zhao Shanhe's voice wasn't loud, but it struck the two men like a thunderclap.

"I have successfully completed my mission."