Chapter 14: Your Identity Is What You Make It When You

Zhang Daqing was a gatekeeper at the Zhongqiao Police Inspectorate, his daily duties limited to opening and closing the gate and managing parking spots; when idle, he’d play on his phone in the guard booth, and he’d never encountered any demanding or exhausting troubles.

He earned two thousand six hundred yuan a month, living quite comfortably.

Today, riding his old-fashioned bicycle, he turned into the street corner and from afar saw a dense crowd gathered in the open space before the inspectorate’s entrance.

“Damn! Has something big happened?”

He immediately dropped his bike, shoved through the crowd with force, and squeezed to the front of the booth—his eyes swept the scene, and he understood at once.

It was just a street vendor stall!

“Who let you set up a stall here?”

As a gatekeeper, he had sharp eyes—he instantly recognized Chen Yansen, tall and imposing, as the leader among the four.

“Who are you?”

Chen Yansen quickly scanned him; though he already guessed the man’s identity, he feigned ignorance and asked deliberately.

“I’m staff here at the inspectorate. My name is Zhang Daqing. You’ve set up your stall right at the entrance, blocking half the road—do you understand how this disrupts traffic order?”

Zhang Daqing scowled and rebuked sharply.

Most vendors would’ve been terrified, bowing and scraping, hastily packing up and fleeing.

Wang Zihao was exactly like that—his face was pale with terror.

Wang Zihan beside him was slightly steadier, appearing calm, but her whitened lips betrayed her fear.

“Oh, it’s Uncle Zhang! Let’s step aside and talk.”

Chen Yansen smiled slightly, acting like an old acquaintance, calling him warmly and looping an arm around Zhang Daqing to lead him aside.

“No wonder this kid’s so bold—he’s Zhang Daqing’s nephew!”

“But he doesn’t look like it?”

“Maybe a cousin!”

“Girl, are you still selling? Give me one.”

Everyone was from the same town and knew Zhang Daqing’s position well, so they paid him no mind, instead urging Wang Zihan to hurry and collect money and pack the goods.

“Young man, have your people move the stall elsewhere—your setup right at my gate is causing serious disruption.”

Zhang Daqing heard him call him “Uncle” so warmly, and seeing the man’s age matched his own son’s, his heart softened—he calmed his tone and advised patiently.

“Uncle Zhang, I’m the deputy factory manager of Yangcheng Meimo Electronics. We placed the display here at the Zhongqiao Police Inspectorate entrance primarily for safety reasons.”

Chen Yansen smiled and introduced himself.

“You? Deputy factory manager?”

Zhang Daqing snorted, utterly disbelieving—he couldn’t help laughing out loud.

“The factory owner’s my dad.”

Chen Yansen spoke in broken Cantonese, lowering his voice and leaning close to Zhang Daqing.

“Even if your dad owns the factory, you can’t just set up a stall anywhere!”

Zhang Daqing nodded, his gaze falling on Chen Yansen’s expensive-looking suit—suddenly, he believed him a third more.

After all, in Chunshen, no one dressed so flamboyantly in summer.

“Uncle Zhang, you don’t know, you don’t know—don’t rush, I’ll explain slowly! Two years ago, didn’t our county issue a guideline called ‘Promoting Economic Development in Surrounding Townships’?”

Chen Yansen explained slowly.

“Was there one? Oh right, right—there was something like that.”

Zhang Daqing had no clue about such things—he just listened to the man’s fluent, professional tone and thought: if he said he hadn’t heard of it, he’d lose face.

“That document states that government and enterprise units with capacity should assist unemployed workers willing to find their own livelihoods. I thought this spot in front of your inspectorate was perfect—I was about to report it to you, but I’d just set up the display when you showed up.”

Chen Yansen smiled, speaking precisely and seriously.

In truth, the document did exist—but its content differed somewhat from what he claimed.

Zhang Daqing listened to his explanation and began to doubt.

The man claimed to be a deputy factory manager from Yangcheng, speaking with a mix of softness and firmness, constantly mentioning reporting and official guidelines.

He worried that resisting might bring trouble.

In truth, there were no clear rules about whether stalls could be set up at the inspectorate entrance—if someone did, it was the Urban Appearance Office’s responsibility.

The inspectorate’s duties didn’t include this at all—it was completely out of scope!

“As for blocking the road, I’ll immediately organize people into a single-file line—no traffic disruption at all.”

Chen Yansen added quickly, seeing Zhang Daqing hesitate.

“You four—who among you are unemployed workers?”

Zhang Daqing frowned, staring straight at Chen Yansen, his face clearly saying: “Don’t take me for a fool.”

“Uncle Zhang, if we can’t sell these remaining stocks, all of us will be laid off.”

Chen Yansen made a grimace, looking miserable.

“Fine, fine—do it your way.”

Zhang Daqing waved his hand helplessly, finally agreeing to Chen Yansen’s request.

“Uncle Zhang, these two models are our flagship products—take them and help us vet them.”

Chen Yansen sighed in relief, quickly pulling out an MP3 and an MP4 from his pocket and shoving them into Zhang Daqing’s hands without waiting for a reply.

“I… I can’t accept these.”

Zhang Daqing’s face flushed—he’d lived half a century with integrity, never taken anything for free, or he’d never have become a gatekeeper.

Though the salary wasn’t high, countless people in the surrounding villages would kill to have this job.

“My bad for not explaining clearly—how about a 10% discount?”

Seeing Zhang Daqing refuse firmly, Chen Yansen tentatively asked.

“No way!”

“Then 20%!”

“Young man, I really can’t take them—I’m not being polite!”

“30%—this is our factory’s cost price, I’m not making a single cent off you!”

Chen Yansen held up three fingers, solemnly.

“You’re kidding me? This quality for only fifteen yuan cost?”

Zhang Daqing couldn’t take his nonsense anymore and spat.

“Only Uncle Zhang has such sharp eyes! To be honest, the real cost price is 40%!”

Chen Yansen feigned surprise, marveling repeatedly.

“Then I’ll buy one MP4—at your 40% price.”

Zhang Daqing, flattered, happily paid—emphasizing the word “buy” so loudly that no one could miss it.

He didn’t want to give anyone grounds for gossip!

“Haozi, give Uncle Zhang a set of freebies, and grab the best storage bag.”

Chen Yansen smiled and turned to instruct.

The best storage bag?

Wang Zihao froze—he didn’t get it: weren’t all the storage bags identical except for color?

“Idiot! Just grab any one!”

Wang Zihan whispered a reminder.

“Oh, oh!”

Wang Zihao suddenly understood, quickly stuffing in the data cable and Bluetooth earphones and handing the bag to Zhang Daqing.

“Tell them to clear the road right away.”

Zhang Daqing accepted the items and added a helpful warning.

If anyone saw this, even if stalls were allowed, they’d be forced to move now.

“Got it, Uncle Zhang, rest assured.”

Chen Yansen understood perfectly: usually, if you didn’t cause trouble, no one would cause trouble for you.

“Good.”

Zhang Daqing, pleased by his tact, said no more, mounted his old bicycle, and turned into the inspectorate’s courtyard.

“Come on! Uncles, Aunts, handsome guys, beautiful girls—line up, clear the road first.”

“Otherwise, if traffic gets disrupted, we won’t be able to sell, right?”

Chen Yansen stood on a stool, shouting through a loudspeaker.

His implied message was clear: if you don’t line up, he wouldn’t sell.

The crowd had no choice but to grumble and form a long queue.

“Yansen, when did you become a deputy factory manager?”

Wang Zihao tilted his head, grinning slyly.

“Haozi, remember one thing: when you’re out in the world, your identity is what you make it.”

Chen Yansen ignored his teasing, speaking seriously.

“This Boss Chen really talks differently to different people.”

Huang Boxiang, standing behind, muttered.

Though his nature was simple and honest, he was only naive—not stupid—he knew perfectly well that nine out of ten words from Chen Yansen were lies, at most one-tenth true.

(End of Chapter)