Chapter 118

Below, not a sound was heard; those who understood naturally understood, while those who didn’t thought Zhou Andong had risen to power and become arrogant—but circumstances forced compliance, and no one dared to be the first to speak up.

Liu Zhiguang and Qian Wei turned pale, their necks chilled as if a blade hung above them; Zhou Andong was now that sword, and no one knew when it would fall.

The quality inspection staff sat on pins and needles—they had mocked Zhou Andong endlessly, even colluded with Liu Zhiguang to sabotage him. Now they regretted it to their bones, having once believed Liu Zhiguang, with his seniority and close ties to Section Chief Zhao Donghai, had a brilliant future, so they’d fawned over him without hesitation.

Especially after Zhou Andong was transferred to the broadcast station, Liu Zhiguang snatched the deputy section chief position, and these bastards redoubled their flattery; if they didn’t kick Zhou Andong while he was down, they couldn’t even eat dinner. But starting today, not only would their dinners be ruined—they’d likely lose sleep too.

Zhou Andong’s first fire burned brilliantly, mainly because Chen Laolai, Ding Liuhex, and Meng Xiaoping were big enough targets; their elimination sent a powerful shockwave.

After the second fire burns out, those still stirring trouble will likely settle down.

Zhou Andong paced back and forth two more times, then bent down, picked up the red cloth bundle filled with cash, and placed it on the table, smiling as he looked down: “Now I’m taking this money—who has objections?”

Who would dare object now? To speak up would not be bravery—it would be sheer stupidity.

“Since no one has objections!” Zhou Andong waved his hand, “Meeting’s over. Go eat, then get to work—work harder, sell more bottles of wine, and you’ll get a bigger dividend at year-end.”

All employees began leaving in orderly fashion; none had expected a meeting to serve up such a massive scandal—one after another—so much so they didn’t even want to eat, they’d already eaten their fill of gossip.

Outside the Cultural Palace, the trio began discussing shares. Two months ago, they’d have had zero interest, even cursed the leadership for scheming to swindle their money. But now things were different: Jiangzhou Yugong Wine was in constant short supply; everyone could see the brewery’s future.

The dozen or so workers from Workshop Two didn’t leave. Wu Cheng grinned and said, “Bro, no—Boss, can you give me an official title?”

Lao Kai snorted and cursed: “Get lost, do you even have the brain for leadership?”

“Fuck!” Wu Cheng retorted, “Don’t look down on me, I’m gold buried in the soil—once the Boss digs me up, I’ll shine.”

“Yeah, right!” Lao Kai said. “Gold shines, sure—but you’re shards of glass. Just reflecting light’s the best you can do.”

Laughter erupted. Zhou Andong smiled too: “Go back, gather your money—sell your pots and pans, borrow if you can—buy as many shares as you can.”

“Got it!” The dozen chorused in unison; they were the most loyal and supportive of Zhou Andong, and naturally, they believed whatever he said.

The dozen dashed off. Zhou Andong turned to Yao Qixin, whose face was ashen: “Why aren’t you leaving?”

Yao Qixin’s lips moved as if to speak, but he said nothing, instead glancing at Wang Ruomei, whose face was icy.

A tear slipped down Wang Ruomei’s cheek; she fiercely wiped it away with her sleeve: “Boss, I’m resigning.”

Zhou Andong froze: “Everything’s been cleared up—why resign now?”

“Because,” Wang Ruomei said, “even if you wash off the mud, the stink still lingers. Better to leave—out of sight, out of mind.”

Zhou Andong said: “The brewery’s about to undergo full reform, become a shareholding company—don’t you realize this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance?”

“I know,” Wang Ruomei insisted. “But life offers more than one opportunity. Miss this one, there’ll be another.”

Jian Qiu asked: “Where are you going?”

Wang Ruomei shook her head: “One step at a time. A grown woman won’t drown in her own urine.”

Jian Qiu said: “I’ve opened a shop outside—come work for me.”

Wang Ruomei looked surprised, then still declined: “I want to see the south.”

Zhou Andong stopped urging. Jian Qiu said nothing more.

“Going there’s fine—more opportunities,” Jian Qiu turned, opened the red cloth bundle, pulled out ten thousand yuan, and pressed it into Wang Ruomei’s hand. “Take it. Consider it a loan—I’ll expect repayment when you can.”

Wang Ruomei’s eyes welled again: “Director Jian, thank you.” She turned to Zhou Andong: “I wish you happiness.”

Jian Qiu embraced her: “If you miss home, come back. Zhou Andong and I will always be your closest family.”

Tears finally spilled. Wang Ruomei took a deep breath, forcing strength into her voice: “I will.”

Yao Qixin stood alone. Wang Ruomei stepped down from the stage, saw he hadn’t moved, and turned coldly: “What are you still doing there? Go home.”

Hearing her speak to him, Yao Qixin’s face lit up—but her next words made him cry.

“Go get our marriage certificate. You know where it is. I’ll wait for you at the Civil Affairs Bureau. If you’re not there before they close, when you get home, I’ll chop you up.”

Watching Yao Qixin stumble after Wang Ruomei, Jian Qiu sighed: “Served right—but damn, he looks pitiful.”

Zhou Andong snorted: “Pitiful people always have something hateful about them. But you—you’re generous. Ten thousand yuan, just handed out.”

Jian Qiu looked at Zhou Andong with a half-smile that made his skin crawl.

“What are you staring at?”

Jian Qiu rolled her eyes: “Don’t think I don’t know about the two of you back then.”

“No—” Zhou Andong panicked, “What’s between us? Explain it clearly.”

Jian Qiu smiled sweetly: “Really want me to spell it out?”

Zhou Andong suddenly felt guilty and waved his hand: “Forget it. I’m not arguing with you.”

Jian Qiu burst out laughing: “You’re nervous.”

“Nervous? What about?” Zhou Andong muttered, pulled four ten-thousand-yuan notes from the red cloth bundle, and handed them to Yao Jun. “I’m lending you this. Go gather more—whatever you can scrape together.”

Yao Jun took the money: “Aren’t you using any?”

Zhou Andong said: “I’ve already been allocated shares. If I buy more, it’ll look too greedy.”

Yao Jun nodded, stuffed the cash into his big cotton coat pocket—luckily, the pockets were roomy—and patted the bulging side: “I’ll go see Tang Wjuan and give her instructions.”

Yao Jun left too. Zhou Andong sat down, lit a cigarette: “Never thought our Secretary Cheng had the guts—he actually gave me shares.”

Gu Bing chuckled: “Do you know his nickname?”