Chapter 33

Soon, Gu Bing returned with the money—sixty thousand yuan, all in hundred-yuan notes, tied with hemp rope, and he slammed it onto the desk with a thud.

“I went straight to the Finance Section, didn’t waste a single word—they handed it over without hesitation.”

Zhou Andong said: “They actually gave cash? This money was clearly ready and waiting for you to pick up.”

“Fuck!” Gu Bing cursed. “Those bastards had no good intentions.”

Zhou Andong smiled: “Of course they didn’t. The more you ask for, the more responsibility you take on.”

“Tap-tap-tap…”

The office door was knocked on. Gu Bing called out: “Come in!”

Yao Jun pushed the door open: “Secretary!”

Zhou Andong asked: “Have you gathered everyone?”

Yao Jun said: “Over two hundred people, but forty didn’t even show up for work today. I’ve sent word to them—they should arrive at the factory soon.”

Gu Bing said: “The money’s on the desk. Take what you need, based on how many people there are.”

Yao Jun didn’t refuse—he counted the money, stuffed it into his pocket, and said: “I’m off!”

Zhou Andong said: “When you’re done, come over—we’ll have a drink together.”

“Alright!” Yao Jun nodded and turned to leave.

Afterwards, Zhou Andong and Gu Bing chatted intermittently. As dusk approached, Zhou Andong suddenly remembered something.

“Boss, I’ve got a question for you.”

Gu Bing asked warily: “What is it?”

“Look at you!” Zhou Andong said. “Do you know anyone who sells appliances at the mall? I want to buy a TV.”

Gu Bing said: “It’s not like a few years ago—you don’t need coupons anymore. Just take your money and buy one.”

Zhou Andong said: “I was just thinking—if you know someone, you might save a hundred or two.”

“You want me to owe someone a favor over a hundred or two? What’s wrong with you?” Gu Bing grumbled, pulled a key from his drawer, and tossed it to Zhou Andong. “There’s a TV in my dorm—second floor, east side. Take it.”

Zhou Andong caught the key and grinned: “You’re serious? That’s a gift?”

Gu Bing said: “I bought it when I first joined the factory. I shared a building with those two old bastards—I was afraid I’d stab them one day, so I bought a place in town. I never watch TV anyway, so I never moved it.”

“Tsk-tsk-tsk…” Zhou Andong clucked. “Buy a house on a whim, ditch a TV like it’s trash—second-gen kids, man, they’re something else.”

Gu Bing’s face darkened again: “Give me back the key. I’ll smash the TV before I give it to you.”

“Once you’ve shit it out, can you eat it back?” Zhou Andong sneered, tossing the key in the air as he walked out. “I’ll take the TV home. By the time I get back, Yao Jun should be done.”

Zhou Andong borrowed a pedal tricycle from the packaging workshop, went to the administrative building, and soon emerged carrying a 21-inch color TV, which he strapped onto the tricycle.

“Rich bastard—this thing’s got picture-in-picture. These aren’t cheap these days,” Zhou Andong muttered, pedaling home.

People like Gu Bing made money easily—get a permit, write a note, flip it, and pocket tens of thousands. So Zhou Andong felt no guilt taking the TV. He even suspected the TV wasn’t even bought with Gu Bing’s own money.

When Zhou Andong returned, Yao Jun was already waiting in Gu Bing’s office. The three didn’t go far—just to a small restaurant near the distillery for a drink.

On January 7th, the sky was overcast, fine snowflakes drifting down. Zhou Andong woke to Jiang Yuyue knocking on his door, feeling like dawn hadn’t broken yet.

“Auntie, what time is it? You’re here already?” Zhou Andong mumbled, shuffled to open the door, then turned and crawled back under the covers.

Jiang Yuyue stepped in, brushed snow off her head, saw Zhou Andong burrowing back under the blankets, and snapped: “It’s already seven.”

Zhou Andong flipped over and sat up: “Seven? Why’s it still so dark?”

“Overcast!” Jiang Yuyue poured hot water from the thermos, took a sip. It burned her throat, but once it hit her stomach, warmth spread through her whole body.

Zhou Andong scrambled into his clothes without washing his face: “Let’s go, let’s go—today can’t be delayed.”

“I haven’t eaten yet—I’m starving,” Jiang Yuyue grumbled, trailing behind.

Zhou Andong said: “First to the printing factory. Then we’ll eat.”

When they arrived, Yao Jun was helping two men load calendars onto a minivan. The print run was large, so yesterday afternoon, Yao Jun had requested the vehicle from logistics.

“Brother Zhou!” Wu Xianping rushed over from afar.

Zhou Andong shook Wu Xianping’s hand: “When will the remaining four thousand copies be ready?”

Wu Xianping said: “I hired a few more people—we’ll finish by the day after tomorrow.”

Zhou Andong nodded: “Come back with us to the distillery after this—we’ll settle the account.”

Hearing “settle the account,” Wu Xianping’s eyes lit up: “Great!”

Gu Bing had also arrived early. He watched over two hundred people gathered at the factory gate, all wearing their best clothes—digging out their finest from the bottom of their trunks.

“Everyone here?” Gu Bing asked.

“All here!” came a scattered reply from the crowd.

Gu Bing knew his presence as secretary was negligible, so he didn’t care: “Today I’m holding a full-factory meeting. Since you can’t attend, I’m telling you in advance.”

The Three-One group, who had been chatting, all turned to look.

“I know some of you are unhappy with this reform—even many have cursed me behind my back. But the factory is at a crossroads. If we don’t reform, we all die together. If we do, there’s still a chance.”

Gu Bing scanned the crowd and continued: “That’s why my comrade Zhou Andong and I took on this thankless, unpopular task—against all convention. But we don’t regret it. We’ve tried. Even if we fail, we won’t have regrets.”

Most of these people were from Workshop Two. Though they stood here only for the subsidy, honestly, they didn’t believe in reform—but they truly hoped it would succeed.

“If this reform succeeds and we sell the liquor, we’ll not only back-pay the wages owed for the past two years, but starting this month, everyone gets a sixty-yuan raise.”

The two hundred-plus stood silent. They didn’t believe the liquor would sell. The price was absurd—just repackaged sorghum liquor at six yuan? Who’d pay that?

At that moment, a minivan drove up from afar. Gu Bing glanced at it: “That’s all I’ll say. You should go now.”