6: A cannery is great! I'll take it over!

Wang Dalong took the Hong Kong Businessman for a tour around the factory.

Afterward, the two of them went to the office.

They went back and forth for a while.

The Hong Kong Businessman, Zhang Shirong, finally showed his true colors.

"Wang Dalong, you have to understand that in this place, no one besides me will take over this mess."

Zhang Shirong held a Marlboro between his fingers, exhaling foreign smoke rings with an air of superiority.

"I know your government is in a difficult position, but asking me to resettle fifty veteran workers... tsk, tsk, tsk."

"Do you take me for a sucker?"

He shook his head.

"A thousand yuan per person for resettlement—that's fifty thousand!"

"Adding that to your asking price for the factory, the total comes to 150,000. That's way too expensive!"

"I'll give you my bottom line: fifty thousand yuan!"

"The whole factory, including the land and equipment—I'll take the whole thing!"

"As for those workers, I'm not responsible for them. That's your government's problem."

Wang Dalong's brow furrowed into a deep frown, and even his Mao suit trembled slightly.

"President Zhang, this won't do! This absolutely won't do!"

He was an honest man who had spent his whole life working in the factory; those fifty veteran workers were old comrades who had been with him for a lifetime.

If he abandoned them now, wouldn't people point fingers at him for the rest of his life?

"These fifty people have dedicated their entire lives to the country!"

"Even if we don't arrange jobs for them, this severance pay for their years of service cannot be a single cent less!"

"This is a matter of principle!"

"And although the equipment is old, it's well-maintained. All the fruit farmers are ready as well. As long as there's working capital, we can start production immediately!"

"Besides, the factory's fixed assets are worth far more than fifty thousand!"

"Oh, Factory Director Wang, why are you so stubborn?"

Zhang Shirong waved his hand impatiently, as if shooing away a fly.

"Rules are dead, but people are flexible."

As he spoke, he pulled a thick envelope out of his leather briefcase.

*Slap.*

He slammed it directly onto the mahogany desk, which was peeling its paint.

"There is twenty thousand yuan here."

Zhang Shirong adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes gleaming with the temptation of money.

"As long as you can convince your superiors to lower the price to fifty thousand and remove the worker resettlement clause."

"This twenty thousand will be your fee for the trouble. I won't put it on the official accounts. It'll be our little secret."

Twenty thousand yuan!

In an era where the average monthly salary was only one or two hundred, this was a massive sum capable of making one's heart stop.

Wang Dalong was stunned.

He had never seen so much money placed before him in his entire life.

But after only two seconds of shock, his weather-beaten face instantly turned a deep shade of liver-red.

This was an insult!

A blatant insult!

"President Zhang! Please show some respect!"

Wang Dalong stood up abruptly and pointed at the door.

"We may be poor, but we aren't so poor that we'd sell our consciences! Take your money and leave!"

Zhang Shirong sneered. He didn't get angry; he simply flicked his cigarette ash.

"Wang Dalong, don't be so quick to refuse."

"Men die for wealth, just as birds die for food."

"I know you're a good man, but can being a 'good man' put food on the table?"

"Think about it. We're the only ones who want to take over this place. If you don't sell to us, you'll have to cut up those machines and sell them for scrap metal."

"By then, you won't even get five thousand, let alone fifty thousand."

"How about this? I'll go out for a smoke and some fresh air."

"I'll leave the money here. Think it over carefully."

"Once this opportunity passes, it won't come back."

After saying that, he threw his cigarette butt on the floor, crushed it with the sole of his polished leather shoe, turned around, and sauntered out.

Wang Dalong was left alone in the office.

The air was thick with the smell of tobacco, which was somewhat choking.

Wang Dalong slumped back into his creaking wooden chair.

Looking at the thick envelope on the desk, he pulled out his own pack of Hongmei cigarettes—which only had two left—and lit one.

Amidst the swirling smoke, his face appeared exceptionally troubled.

"These damn capitalists!"

He had thought someone would finally take over.

But the other party had slashed the acquisition price in half and refused to care for his old brothers.

If they didn't get their resettlement pay...

They wouldn't even be able to afford coal for heating this winter.

How could Wang Dalong agree to this Hong Kong Businessman's terms?

If he really did it...

He, Wang Dalong, would never be able to hold his head up again for the rest of his life!

*Creeeeeak—*

Just then, the slightly warped wooden door of the office was pushed open.

Wang Dalong was feeling frustrated and didn't even look back, assuming the Hong Kong Businessman had returned.

He waved his hand impatiently, his voice filled with exhaustion and stubbornness.

"Don't waste your breath! Take your money and get out of here!"

"Even if I, Wang Dalong, starve to death, I won't do something so immoral that it would curse my descendants!"

From behind him, however, came a young and cheerful laugh.

"Director, if you give this money to me, I won't be polite about accepting it!"

"Twenty thousand yuan—that's enough for me to marry a wife!"

Wang Dalong froze. Why did that voice sound so familiar?

And it didn't sound like that half-baked Hong Kong-style Mandarin.

He spun around abruptly, not even bothering to brush off the cigarette ash that fell onto his pants.

A young man stood at the door.

He had a straight posture, handsome features, and an unfathomable smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Wasn't that the university student from the Lin family in Red Mangrove Village?

"Lin... Lin Chuan?!"

Wang Dalong tossed his cigarette butt into a canned food jar filled with stubs, his eyes widening in surprise.

"What are you doing here, kid?"

"It's the middle of the night. Why did you come to the factory?"

Lin Chuan walked in on his own and, without ceremony, pulled up a chair to sit opposite Wang Dalong.

He didn't look at the twenty thousand yuan on the table; instead, he looked at Wang Dalong with a serious expression.

"Uncle Wang, I heard everything at the door just now."

"What?" Wang Dalong's heart tightened.

"If he doesn't want this factory, I'll take it."

Lin Chuan's voice wasn't loud, but every word entered Wang Dalong's ears with clarity.

Wang Dalong was stunned at first, then shook his head with a bitter smile.

"You child, why are you making fun of your Uncle Wang at a time like this?"

"Hurry on home and focus on your studies. You don't understand these adult matters."

"This factory is a mess; it's not child's play."

He assumed Lin Chuan was just being young and impulsive, or perhaps just passing by to watch the drama.

How could a student who was still in school buy a factory?

With his textbooks?

Lin Chuan smiled and didn't argue.

From his inner pocket—which was now empty—he unhurriedly pulled something out.

*Thud!*

Three neat stacks of big unity bills were slammed onto the desk.

Each stack was sealed with official bank strips, brand new and emitting that enticing scent of fresh ink.

Thirty thousand yuan!

It was slammed onto Wang Dalong's scratch-filled desk, right next to the envelope left by the Hong Kong Businessman.

The visual impact was incredibly powerful!

Wang Dalong was dumbfounded. His hand shook, and his cigarette pack fell directly to the floor.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head, and his jaw almost hit his feet.

He rubbed his eyes vigorously, even wanting to slap himself to see if he was dreaming.

"This... this..."

He pointed at the money on the desk, then at Lin Chuan, his lips trembling for a long time before he could form a sentence.

"Where did you get so much money?!"

"Did you rob a bank?!"

"Xiao Chuan! You can't do such illegal things! You could lose your head for this!"

Lin Chuan felt a surge of warmth in his heart as he saw Wang Dalong's fearful and worried expression.

This was an elder who truly cared about his juniors.

He shifted into a more comfortable sitting position and delivered the story he had prepared.

He had already drafted this explanation in his mind on the way over.

"Uncle Wang, what are you thinking?"

"Am I not attending university in Beijing?"

Lin Chuan leaned forward mysteriously, lowering his voice a few notches.

"You know that Beijing is the capital, a place where crouching tigers and hidden dragons reside."

"In my university, there are a few classmates whose family backgrounds are... tsk, tsk."

He pointed toward the ceiling with a secretive look.

"Their families run big businesses and have plenty of money."

"Recently, after the Southern Tour speeches, everyone wants to come out and start a career."

"They saw that I have talent and they trust me, so they gave me a sum of startup capital."

"They asked me to look around our area to see if there are any good investment projects."

Having said this, Lin Chuan patted the thirty thousand yuan on the desk, his tone quite confident.

"This thirty thousand is just the down payment."

"Uncle Wang, I saw your character for myself just now."

"That Hong Kong Businessman isn't acting like a decent human being, but I can't stand by and watch our hometown factory fall into the hands of someone like that."

"This factory is 150,000, right?"

"I'll buy it!"

"Including the resettlement fees for those fifty veteran workers—I'll cover it all!"

"Not only that, as long as they are willing to come back to work, I'll pay their wages as usual, and they'll even get a raise!"

His words were logical and well-reasoned, and combined with the cold, hard cash displayed openly...

Wang Dalong had no choice but to believe him!

After all, in this era, a university student from Beijing was like a star descended from heaven in the eyes of the common people. It was perfectly reasonable for them to know a few children of influential families.

Looking at the high-spirited young man before him, Wang Dalong suddenly felt a lump in his throat.

With a trembling hand, he took out his last Hongmei cigarette and offered it to Lin Chuan.

"Chuan, do you smoke?"

"No, no, I cough if I smoke those," Lin Chuan quickly waved his hand.

"Oh, oh, oh, you're a good kid. It's a good thing not to smoke. Don't learn from an old chimney like me."