Chapter 112

Morning sunlight streamed through the gaps in the curtains, warming Zhou Andong’s face as he awoke, feeling heavy-bodied; he opened his eyes to see Jian Qiu naked, clinging to him like an octopus, her smooth skin glinting in the light, every tiny vellus hair now clearly visible.

At that moment, Jian Qiu also opened her eyes, bit him on the chest, then got up, dressed, and left the bedroom without a word.

“Hey?” Zhou Andong complained, “You ate and left without even licking your lips? Listen, Jian Qiu—even if you’ve taken my body, you’ll never own my soul.”

After speaking, Zhou Andong found his cigarette, lit one, and glanced down at the spot Jian Qiu had bitten; if not for the faint sting, he’d have thought it all a dream—too unreal.

Behind him, Jian Qiu paused at his words, gritting her teeth and muttering, “That bastard.”

An Jing was making breakfast in the kitchen, peering repeatedly toward Jian Qiu’s room; when she peeked again, she saw Jian Qiu emerge and waved cheerfully.

“Come here, come here.”

“What?” Jian Qiu frowned, not moving.

An Jing smirked, “I get the feeling your walk’s off—kinda stiff, like you can’t step right.”

Jian Qiu rolled her eyes, “Nothing, I’m going to brush my teeth.”

“Don’t go, there’s something!” An Jing ran over, grabbed Jian Qiu’s arm, and asked curiously, “Tell me—how was it?”

Jian Qiu pinched An Jing’s face hard, “Are you trying to die? If you want to know how it feels, go find yourself a man and try it.”

An Jing sighed, “Good men are nearly extinct—how easy is it to find one?”

Jian Qiu said, half-annoyed, half-amused, “Guan Shengjie’s really great—chief reporter for the People’s Daily, ex-war correspondent, fearless even under gunfire—he’s a real man. Aren’t you tempted?”

An Jing tugged at her hair in frustration, “I think Guan Shengjie’s fine too, but for some reason, I just don’t feel it.”

Zhou Andong walked out of the room: “No spark doesn’t matter—feelings grow over time. Try getting to know him.”

An Jing shook her head vigorously, “Nope, no feeling—no matter how much I try, it won’t work. I’d just waste his time looking for a wife.”

Soon after, Zhou Andong and Jian Qiu finished washing up, and An Jing set breakfast on the table: “I only cooked porridge and fried a few eggs—just make do.”

Jian Qiu smiled, “Our An Jing is so virtuous—getting up early to make breakfast, deserves praise.”

Zhou Andong looked at An Jing and said, “Why do you have dark circles?”

Jian Qiu suddenly remembered something and pinched Zhou Andong’s waist, “Can you stop making up conversation?”

An Jing burst out laughing, winked at Jian Qiu, then turned to Zhou Andong: “Why do I have dark circles? That’s your job to answer.”

Zhou Andong chuckled awkwardly, “Eat, eat—afterward, you go to the shop, we go to work.”

Zhang Deyou arrived early at the brewery; as soon as he entered his office, Qu Hongqi came in: “Factory Director!”

Zhang Deyou asked urgently, “Everything ready?”

“All set, don’t worry,” Qu Hongqi placed a stack of letters on the desk. “These arrived last night—all complaint letters.”

Zhang Deyou asked absently, “Who are they complaining about?”

Qu Hongqi said, “Zhou Andong.”

Zhang Deyou perked up, tore open the letter, read its contents, nearly spat blood, and shredded the paper.

“These are the same two bastards’ complaint letters from last time.”

Last time, the complaint letter had been tossed into his mailbox at the brewery gate and went straight to Chang Tai; this time, the mailman delivered it, and since Qu Hongqi was head of Security, the gatekeeper gave it to him.

“Throw them out!” Zhang Deyou snorted. “Then go to the broadcast station and announce the meeting—set it for eleven-thirty, use lunchtime, don’t disrupt production.”

Qu Hongqi agreed, gathered the letters, left the office, tossed them in the bathroom trash, then headed to the broadcast station.

As Zhou Andong and Jian Qiu entered Gu Bing’s office, they heard Liu Huilan broadcasting: “Workers, workers, this is an announcement: at eleven-thirty today, gather at the factory cultural palace for the workers’ assembly. Repeat: eleven-thirty, factory cultural hall, workers’ assembly—do not be late.”

“Fuck!” Zhou Andong cursed, “Definitely Gao Qingkui and Zhang Deyou—up to some new nonsense again.”

Jian Qiu thought a moment, then said, “Could it be about the bonus?”

Gu Bing said, “Your bonus amount is large—without Zhang Deyou’s approval, you won’t get it. I asked him a few days ago, but that old bastard turned me down, said the brewery’s just starting to recover, not the time for bonuses, wait a while. Since Zuo Peiming knew about it, I wasn’t worried he’d cheat, so I didn’t tell you or rush it.”

Zhou Andong nodded, stroking his chin, “If that’s true, then his calling this workers’ meeting? Probably not about the meeting itself.”

Jian Qiu smiled, “Soldiers come, we send generals; water comes, we build dikes. We’ll find out what he’s really up to when the time comes.”

At eleven-twenty, the lunch bell rang; workers streamed toward the cultural hall, many grumbling: “We’ve worked all morning, nearly dead—can’t they wait till after lunch?”

Zhou Andong and Jian Qiu entered the cultural palace, scanned the chaotic hall, found seats at the back, and turned to the stage.

On the conference table, besides the microphone, lay a large square object covered in red cloth—no one knew what it was.

“Huh?” Zhou Andong’s gaze sharpened, “Jian Qiu, you see who I see?”

“Who?” Jian Qiu asked, puzzled.

Zhou Andong pointed: “Over there—Chen Lao’ai, Meng Xiao, Ding Liuhex!”

These guys were brewery scum—the kind no one wanted to touch, too lazy to bother with, useless trash. They drew wages but never worked; whenever they showed up at the factory, trouble always followed.

Jian Qiu saw them too, eyebrows raised: “Why are they suddenly here?”

Zhou Andong sneered, “Looks like today’s going to be a big show.”

Jian Qiu’s eyes turned icy, her voice thick with violence: “I’ll go find Yao Army—tell him to bring men and watch those trash. If they’re not targeting you, fine. If they are, have the ambulance ready to carry them out.”