Chapter 435: Brother, We Gave Too Much

On the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month in the 1980s, the New Year atmosphere was already thick.

Li Ye, still in Beijing, was personally called home by Teacher Ke, where he enjoyed a hearty family banquet and was then packed with countless New Year goods.

As Li Ye was about to leave, he asked Teacher Ke whether it would be appropriate for him to visit on the second day of the New Year.

According to Chinese tradition, the second day of the New Year is called "Son-in-Law Day"; after engagement or marriage, a son-in-law must bring gifts to his in-laws' home to pay New Year respects.

The quantity and value of the gifts are tied to the son-in-law's "tenure"—the newer the son-in-law, the more and more expensive the gifts must be.

For a veteran son-in-law of decades, just a few food items and two bottles of baijiu suffice, and by noon he can feast heartily, with most of it ending up in his and his wife's and children's stomachs.

But Li Ye and Wen Leyu were only "officially together"; in some places they needed to pay New Year visits, in others not necessarily. On the second day of the New Year, the Zhongliang Courtyard would be packed with sons-in-law, and whether Li Ye qualified depended entirely on Teacher Ke's opinion.

But as soon as Li Ye finished speaking, Wen Qingsheng, already three-quarters drunk, said: "Of course it's appropriate! How could it not be? I'll be waiting for you on the second day!"

Teacher Ke also smiled playfully at Li Ye: "If you don't come pay me New Year respects on the second day, where else are you planning to go?"

"Hehehehe, I'm wrong, Auntie Ke, I'll definitely be there on the second day."

Li Ye stepped out with a sheepish grin.

Wen Leyu, who saw him off, wore a bright, contented smile on her face.

Qingshui County was five hundred kilometers from Beijing; arriving on the second day of the New Year was still very inconvenient, making Li Ye's effort all the more meaningful in showing his regard for their relationship.

Yet although Wen Leyu smiled happily, she said insincerely: "You don't have to rush so much—you could come later. You'd have to leave Qingshui on New Year's Day anyway, and neither my dad nor mom would blame you."

Li Ye was far more clever in dealing with Wen Leyu—he immediately put on a troubled expression: "I can't! If I'm home on New Year's Day, people will think I don't have a girlfriend."

"On the third day, matchmakers will show up with beautiful girls. What am I supposed to do?"

Wen Leyu stared at him for several seconds, then said slowly and clearly: "Even though I know you're joking, I'm still going to punch you."

"Puff"

Her small fist struck Li Ye's shoulder with perfect accuracy and force.

Why did Wen Leyu punch Li Ye on the shoulder? Because hitting anywhere else—the chest, abdomen, or forehead—would hurt too much.

"Ow ow ow, it hurts, it really hurts, stop it!"

Li Ye kept crying out in pain, but Wen Leyu had gotten hooked—she reduced her strength by half, yet kept up the same pace.

"Hey hey hey, look, look—is that your brother? Who's the other one?"

Li Ye suddenly grabbed Wen Leyu's hand and pointed toward a dark spot outside the courtyard gate.

Wen Leyu glanced over and indeed saw her brother Wen Guohua's Jeep.

Beside the Jeep stood a bicycle, and beside the bicycle stood a woman with long hair.

Although Li Ye's eyesight was excellent, the distance was great and the location was pitch-black, so he couldn't make out details clearly.

But Wen Leyu softly said: "It must be Ning Pingping."

"Ning Pingping?"

Li Ye looked again carefully—and yes, it did look like Ning Pingping.

He glanced at Ning Pingping's bicycle and thought about the time—it was nearly nine. He began to sense something.

Given how close Wen Guohua and Ning Pingping used to be, such a scene—waiting at the gate—was impossible.

Li Ye whispered: "Is Ning Pingping blocking your brother? Did he run away to avoid her?"

Wen Leyu didn't answer directly. Instead, she sighed: "Sometimes, being destined to part is agonizing—you know you can never be together, yet you can't let go, can't understand why."

"So you and I must cherish what we have, Li Ye. You and I… almost missed each other."

In the darkness, Wen Leyu's big eyes shimmered with tears.

Clearly, she was remembering her past with Li Ye—if Lu Jingyao hadn't betrayed them, if neither she nor Li Ye had been decisive enough, if Li Ye hadn't been outstanding enough, they wouldn't be together today.

Li Ye, ashamed, gently wiped away her tears and whispered: "I'm sorry, Xiao Yu. I won't make that kind of joke again."

"Hmph."

Wen Leyu sniffed: "It's fine—you can joke once in a while. It gives me a chance to practice my boxing."

"One of my dorm mates joined the school's boxing club. I've learned combos now—jab, hook… I'll punch you into a flower."

Wen Leyu swung her little arms with fierce energy—she actually looked quite convincing.

Li Ye suddenly felt that Wen Leyu had somehow cracked his preferences: tender, affectionate, yet playfully spoiled—a perfectly crafted little bride.

The twenty-fifth day of the twelfth lunar month was the day Li Ye and the eight-member group had agreed to travel home together.

As they entered their third year, the group's regular dinners had become increasingly hard to arrange.

Li Dayong was busy with Changbei, Fu Yingjie had a girlfriend, Hu Man became head of the Student Union's women's department, Jiang Xiaoyan was helping her family open a new noodle shop, Yan Jinbu and Han Xia had met each other's parents.

Everyone was busy, everyone had their own circles; gathering all eight together had become rare—often only Li Dayong, Li Ye, and Wen Leyu still had family meals.

Yet every semester, when returning home or going back to school, their consensus was clear: if possible, travel together.

This year, Changbei Machinery had just acquired a seven-seat Lu Xun, perfect for fitting everyone. Since Li Ye had to return on the second day to pay respects to his in-laws, they decided to drive home together and bring the car back on the second day.

Although taking the train from Qingshui County on New Year's Day would get him to Beijing the next day, Li Ye—who had owned a car in the future—believed that for distances under five hundred kilometers, a private car was still the best option.

But everyone had agreed—until the afternoon of the twenty-fourth, when Li Dayong called to say he couldn't make it.

"Brother, the factory's still a mess! Xiao Hui and Guo Tian have gone home for the holiday—I can't leave. I'll have someone deliver the car to you. Go ahead with Hu Man and the others!"

"Can't leave?" Li Ye asked, puzzled. "Changbei's been on holiday since today. What do you mean you can't leave? Is management causing trouble again?"

Li Dayong's voice was bitter over the phone: "Management did cause some fuss, but it was nothing. The problem is—we gave too much. The workers don't want to take the holiday!"

After hanging up, Li Ye called Tian Hongshan and had him drive him to Changbei Machinery.

At the factory, the machines were still running, and the workers hadn't left.

Tian Hongshan chuckled: "When I came to pick up goods before, the workers were always energetic—but nothing compared to now."

"They're all like model workers—don't seem to get tired! Look, it's already 4:50, and the machines haven't stopped!"

In 1980s factories—state-owned or collective—workers always shut down machines at 4:30, washed up, and waited for 5 p. m. sharp. If anyone delayed them even a minute, they'd curse for ten.

But if machines were still running at 4:50, you definitely couldn't leave at 5.

Li Ye stared at the tireless workers, unsure what to say.

After a year of hard work, you give them a long New Year holiday—and they don't want it.

Actually, many people in the future didn't know: in the 1980s, workers had real paid annual leave.

Any permanent worker received "employee leave" each year—five days minimum, up to ten or fifteen, and some veteran workers got even longer.

In contrast, in today's prosperous era, annual leave became a fancy term, growing ever more distant from ordinary workers.

"Ding ding ding"

The end-of-shift bell rang. Machines gradually shut down, but workers rushed en masse to the canteen—not home.

"Are they still working overtime?"

Tian Hongshan laughed: "Of course! Workers here are paid by performance—more work, more pay. Production schedules are booked six months ahead. Who wouldn't work like crazy to earn more?"

"What do you mean 'earn more'? It's hard work."

Li Ye smiled: "Fine. As long as management isn't causing trouble, let them earn more. We can afford to pay."

In his past experience, any company facing "workers earning too much" would adjust performance metrics to cut wages.

But Li Ye would never bring such exploitative management ideas to Changbei now.

The factory wasn't short of profit—it was making money. Why not give workers a few more yuan? Didn't the future have Pang Donglai?

At that moment, an old man passed by Li Ye and Tian Hongshan and greeted Tian.

"Brother Tian, are you here to pick up goods? If so, say it quick—the office is closing, and I won't be able to arrange it."

Tian Hongshan waved his hand: "Master Liao, I'm not picking up goods. Our company's on holiday. I'm here to see Technician Li."

"Technician Li's over there. I'll call him."

"Don't go, Master Liao—I have a question."

Tian Hongshan was sharp—he knew what Li Ye wanted to know. He turned to the old man: "Master Liao, are there any workers in your workshop who don't want to work overtime?"

"Of course."

The old man said: "There are a few lazybones who've earned a bit and forgotten their names—they want long vacations. The others dragged them off to the eastern construction site."

Master Liao pointed east, squinting: "You can go see the foundation of that building. After the meeting, they started digging in winter—and in one month, they dug the whole trench. Who dares doubt them now?"

"They said: if performance drops, there won't be a second phase of worker housing. Production plans are booked six months ahead. Whoever ruins the performance and drags everyone down? We'll break his legs."

"So tell me—who dares take leave?"

(End of Chapter)