Chapter 436: Brother, I Think I

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When Li Ye found Li Dayong in a corner of the cafeteria, he was wolfing down a large bowl of rice with chopsticks.

As soon as he saw Li Ye and Tian Hongshan approaching, he quickly swallowed the rice and dishes in his mouth and asked Li Ye: "Brother, what brings you here? Have you eaten?"

"I'm not hungry," Li Ye sat down in front of Li Dayong and asked: "Judging by how you're eating, did you even have time for lunch?"

Li Dayong nodded: "I didn't eat lunch. When Guo Tianyong and the others left all at once, I was the only one left on the Hong Kong side—it got crazy busy. I was afraid if I left too, everything would fall apart."

"Fall apart?" Li Ye asked gravely: "What's falling apart? Are the workers causing chaos? Or the management?"

"This…"

Li Dayong thought carefully, then said uncertainly: "The workers won't cause trouble, but I can't guarantee the management. Better safe than sorry!"

"Can't guarantee?" Li Ye smiled: "Tell me why you can't guarantee it."

Li Dayong glanced at Li Ye and felt his brother was dissatisfied with him.

Li Ye had entrusted him with such a massive enterprise in Changbei, and now he gave this "can't guarantee" response—what good are you?

So Li Dayong whispered: "Brother, before, I only handled technical matters—it was never busy. But after Guo Tianyong left yesterday, today at noon, the former Changbei management team lined up to come to me with secret reports."

"One says another is scheming, another says someone's harboring ill intent—it scared the hell out of me. You tell me, in this situation, how could I dare leave?"

"Huh."

Li Ye suddenly understood—these people were taking advantage of Li Dayong's youth, lining up to fool him!

Li Ye couldn't help laughing: "Dayong! If there's unrest among the workers, that's dangerous and must be taken seriously."

"Don't be fooled by how hardworking and enduring our workers are—if they finally snap, a single spark can ignite a wildfire."

"But you think those tattletales could stage a rebellion? You're overestimating them."

In his past life, Li Ye had witnessed two large-scale resignation events—one among workers, the other among weary middle- and grassroots management staff.

Both were triggered by seemingly minor issues that ignited long-suppressed anger among employees, spiraling out of control.

But you think those nine-to-five types, sipping tea and reading newspapers all day, would collectively riot?

Get real!

Employees who are constantly overwhelmed with work and rioting mean "Brothers, let's go!"—they charge ahead in a frenzy, smashing equipment without a second thought.

But the second kind say: "Old buddy, you go first—we'll support you from behind!" Their motto: let someone else be the first to stick their neck out, while they reap the benefits.

"Brother, what you said makes sense," Li Dayong whispered: "But recently, the former Changbei management collectively resisted us, and now suddenly they're all coming to snitch. Isn't this a tactic to divide and co-opt?"

"Although the new managers promoted from the workshops are working hard, they lack experience. You told me myself to learn how to play one faction against another."

"Wow, you've learned this fast?"

"No no no, don't make fun of me, brother—I'm still just guessing!"

"You're thinking right. Some people who don't do real work aren't necessarily incompetent—maybe they just never got the chance. Even in a basket of rotten apricots, you can always find a few edible ones."

These people came to snitch and show goodwill—they may seem lacking in principle, but at least they're different from those still resisting Hong Kong's control.

Ancestral wisdom proves: to manage a team well, you really need a few such "bad guys." In certain special situations, they're incredibly useful.

"Brother, that's exactly what I thought, hehe."

Li Dayong smiled: "Brother, you head back to Qingshui first. If you think driving's too tiring, I'll have the factory driver take you there and let him come back by bus."

"No need. I'll drive myself. Are you going back this year?"

"I'll see," Li Dayong said hesitantly: "I was scheduled for duty on the second day of the New Year. If things are too tight, I won't go back."

"Alright then."

Li Ye stood up to leave, then suddenly remembered something and sat back down: "How many people are on duty during the Spring Festival? Have fire prevention and security personnel been arranged?"

Some things must be handled with extreme caution.

After Hong Kong took control of Changbei, many in the old bloated management team were bound to be sidelined—since they haven't been laid off yet, they can't all be optimized out, so they're stuck on meager salaries, just waiting to die.

But they don't see this as Hong Kong's mercy—they believe their sacred, inherited rights have been stripped away. So someone might just get desperate and do something bizarre.

Given how enthusiastically the frontline workers now support Hong Kong, a fire in winter could be the most direct, effective, and vicious way to break the deadlock.

That's why Li Ye specifically asked about fire prevention—it's absolutely not something to take lightly.

"Hey, don't even joke about it, brother."

Li Dayong laughed bitterly: "Last week we posted a notice to form a Spring Festival patrol team—workers could volunteer, get two yuan daily subsidy, and get meals and meat at the cafeteria, but no alcohol. Guess what happened?"

"Over two hundred people! In one hour, over two hundred signed up. I ran over and tore down the notice—otherwise, three or four hundred would've shown up. All for less than twenty yuan in subsidy."

Li Dayong sighed, then whispered to Li Ye: "Brother, I've suddenly realized… I've become corrupted."

Li Ye: "..."

Tian Hongshan coughed, stood up, and walked away—he felt he shouldn't hear what came next.

"A few years ago, my dad spent nineteen yuan to buy my mom a coat, and she was overjoyed for ages."

"Twenty yuan could buy dozens of feet of fabric—enough for me to make a New Year's jacket and two pairs of pants, with enough left over for a big bag of firecrackers."

"That year, I threw a tantrum and hid ten yuan of my New Year's money, refusing to give it to my mom—I didn't even finish smoking all the Da Fengshou cigarettes I bought with it for months."

"And remember when you traded me your 26 Phoenix bike? I rode it eighteen laps around town in winter just to show off—but now…"

Li Dayong lowered his head, like a guilty child confessing: "Now I even look down on Da Qianmen cigarettes?"

"Now, in winter, I ride a bicycle and feel it's too cold. The other day, while working at the factory, I put on the issued fur-lined safety boots—and they felt uncomfortable on my feet."

Li Dayong rubbed his face hard, ashamed: "A few old Changbei guys called me a capitalist roader, a corrupt official. I wanted to yell back—but I felt I had no confidence."

Li Ye looked down at Li Dayong's feet.

He was wearing a large pair of fur-lined leather safety boots, but in the past, his shoes were always custom-made calf leather boots prepared by Pei Wenhui.

Young people are young—after being scolded by a few old guys, they suddenly feel guilty.

Li Ye said calmly: "Dayong, look at me. If you're a capitalist roader and a corrupt official, then what am I?"

Li Dayong stared blankly at Li Ye, then immediately understood.

"Brother, I didn't mean you—this…"

Li Ye wore a British wool tweed overcoat, with cashmere sweater and pants underneath. His shoes, like Li Dayong's, were high-end custom items mailed from Hong Kong by Fan Xiuling—on the surface, they looked no different from department store goods, but they cost more than ten times as much.

Because Pei Wencong had been suppressing Fan Xiuling from contacting Li Ye alone, the chief designer at Fenghua Clothing could only focus on clothes and shoes, sending several suitcases of them every quarter.

Li Ye's, Wen Leyu's, and Li Dayong's—all were arranged for. Of course, Li Ye's were different—he had to be treated as the boss.

Moreover, Fan Xiuling called Li Ye every few months to discuss fashion trends and strongly urged him to come back for new body measurements, ensuring his clothes fit perfectly.

So if corruption was the issue, Li Ye was far more corrupted than Li Dayong.

But Li Ye kept a low profile—he and Wen Leyu usually rode bicycles around Peking University, unlike Li Dayong in Changbei, who rode in a car and was known by others as "very prestigious."

A group of middle-aged and elderly men had to treat a young kid with polite respect—didn't that create psychological conflict?

Li Ye shook his head: "I know you didn't mean me—even if you did, I wouldn't care."

"Your thoughts are normal—you suddenly feel you've become disconnected from the masses, right?"

Li Dayong nodded vigorously—he was right.

He and Li Ye were raised to believe in unity, unity, and more unity. Now suddenly feeling isolated from everyone, he found it hard to argue back.

"That's because you've become rich first," Li Ye said calmly: "They're cursing you not because you're rich—but because it's you, Li Dayong, who got rich, not them or their relatives."

Li Dayong thought carefully, then relaxed: "Brother, you're right. Next time they curse me, I'll curse them twice as hard."

"No, no, no—cursing is impolite and uncivilized."

Li Ye smiled faintly: "You need to shift your mindset. Whoever curses you, isolate them from your circle of benefits."

"Those of us who got rich first must lead others to prosperity later—but you must never stop them from displaying their noble, frugal virtues."

After a few seconds of stunned silence, Li Dayong suddenly said: "Brother, this whole thing… sounds like something my grandfather used to do."

Li Ye nodded and smiled: "My grandfather knew how to do it too. Believe me—if they were in your position, they'd do it too."

The newly purchased Lu Xun for Changbei Machinery was an LC60: six-cylinder, four-wheel drive, seven-seater, high ground clearance—perfect for early 1980s mainland roads.

When Li Ye drove it out of the factory, the fleet drivers followed him closely, giving him endless cautions—as if he were their own son, terrified he'd scratch or dent it.

"This car costs so much! Lose one paint chip and it's half my salary!"

He kept nagging because he noticed Li Ye's expression clearly showed disdain when he took the keys.

This car—and he's disappointed?

The Lu Xun had a big reputation, but Li Ye had driven a Wuling Shenche—he looked at this LC60 and saw plastic everywhere, zero ergonomic design.

On the road, its power and off-road performance were decent, but handling felt worse than his old secondhand Shenche, let alone Pei Wenhui's little BMW.

Still, the car was rugged and stable. Carrying several classmates and a full load of goods, it drove steadily from Beijing back to Qingshui County—even on terrible roads and full throttle, it held firm like an old dog, earning constant envy from Fu Yingjie and the others.

Yan Jinbu couldn't help saying: "This car is so fast—faster than the train! We left this morning and got to Qingshui before dark. Do you think when our country develops, everyone will own a car and reach Beijing in a day?"

"What are you dreaming about?" Han Xia habitually shot back: "It costs hundreds of thousands! After graduation, you'll earn sixty yuan a month—how many years to save up?"

"Can't I dream? Don't you remember how different things were three or four years ago?"

"Dream all you want—just keep daydreaming!"

Watching the two bickering, Li Ye could only smile and enjoy the show—he couldn't side with Yan Jinbu.

Among them, besides Li Ye, Han Xia was the one who "understood cars" best.

Her father was a tractor driver in the village; she knew how to drive a tractor and understood how expensive a tractor was for a whole village team.

Li Ye couldn't correct her fixed mindset—he couldn't tell her that someday, everyone would own a car, and the trip from Qingshui to Beijing wouldn't take a full day—leave early enough, and you could eat lunch in Beijing.

After dropping off his classmates, Li Ye got home just as dusk fell.

His two younger sisters, Li Juan and Li Ying, were still waiting outside the front door, eagerly watching for him.

Ever since Li Ye went to university in Beijing, whenever they knew he was coming home, these two sisters always waited at the gate.

Li Ye had told them several times to wait inside, but later he learned this wasn't unusual.

Many children left behind by their parents would wait helplessly at the village entrance on the day their father was expected—waiting all day, as if walking out a few extra steps could make their father return hours earlier.

Little sister Li Ying scrambled into the driver's seat and fumbled with the huge steering wheel. "Brother, you brought back a big Jeep this time? This car's huge."

"Brother, I heard you can learn to drive right after junior high. Wait two more years and ask Dad for me—can I learn to drive too?"

Since Li Yue got her own car, she had become Li Ying's idol; in her eyes, Li Yue, who could drive anywhere she wanted, was far superior to any college student.

The college graduate assigned to the county still didn't have his own car after three years! But Li Yue's car was better than the county boss's.

Li Ye knew what Li Ying was thinking and smiled to explain: "It's not that you can learn to drive after junior high—you need to be old enough. If you're not old enough, you can't learn. When you are, Dad will arrange it for you without me saying a word."

"So as long as I'm old enough? That's great!"

Li Ying, still fiddling with the steering wheel, broke into a wide grin—she figured age was something you could reach just by lying around, while graduating junior high still required exams!

"Stop dreaming and get down and work!"

Li Ying was happily imagining herself as a female driver when suddenly her sister Li Juan yanked her down and shoved a bucket and rag into her hands.

"Who's dreaming? Who's dreaming? Fine, I'll work—like you don't work!"

Accustomed to being bullied by her sister, Li Ying could only grumble as she wiped the car.

But Li Juan said: "Age-wise, I reached the limit first. Driving-wise, I learned first. Even if the family got a car, I got to drive it first—it hasn't even been my turn yet! What else is that if not dreaming?"

The little sister froze mid-wipe. She'd only been counting how many years until she could drive, never realizing she had a domineering older sister ahead of her!

Was she going to be like before again—wearing her sister's hand-me-down clothes? Would her sister drive the car until it fell apart, then toss it to her?

Why was the youngest in the family always so pitiful?

As Li Ying seethed with resentment, her grandmother Wu Juying and Han Chunmei stepped out of the courtyard to help move things.

But when Wu Juying saw the Lu Xun that Li Ye had driven home, her face dropped. She grabbed Li Ye by the arm and dragged him aside to scold him fiercely.

"Little Ye, have you lost your mind? Last year you came back with a 130, the year before that Li Yue brought back a Volga, and now you've switched to a big Jeep—are you trying to make everyone know you're rich?"

Li Ye smiled and said: "Grandma, you're overthinking it. This car's borrowed from the factory—it's not—"

"What do you mean 'not'?"

Wu Juying cut him off, fuming: "Do you know how many people have come to our house to borrow money these past two years? Borrowing turned into grudges!"

Li Ye blinked, then just shrugged indifferently—he knew this kind of thing was unavoidable.

But then he noticed Han Chunmei's expression—it wasn't natural.

(End of chapter)