Chapter 845: You Invited the Guests, So I Pay the Bill?

On January 8, 1988, the Light Vehicle Company held its annual summary meeting, with top leaders all delivering reports declaring “the situation is overwhelmingly positive.”

“This year, our factory set a new record, assembling over 26,000 vehicles with output exceeding 400 million yuan, introducing two advanced overseas technologies, with total investment surpassing 100 million U.S. dollars.”

“This year, our factory added over 3,000 new employees and over 1,000 new housing units, bringing total staff to over 10,000.”

“Looking ahead to next year, our production base in the northern suburbs will soon be completed, further expanding our scale and establishing us as the undisputed leader in China’s light truck industry.”

“.”

While the leaders above spoke passionately, Li Ye felt bored; there were no smartphones to browse back then, and he sat in the second row, so he could only fix his gaze downward, sit upright, and let his mind wander.

Unlike his master Lao Ding, who could only guess at the unit’s financial status, Li Ye could learn more concrete facts from Ma Zhao.

Although everything the speakers said was true and largely without exaggeration, all these growth achievements stemmed entirely from Li Ye’s First Factory.

Meanwhile, the main factory had nothing to do with “the situation is overwhelmingly positive”—it was like a gaunt old man, struggling to take each step.

Li Ye had never imagined the main factory’s accounts were so empty they couldn’t even afford New Year bonuses or benefits for employees.

This year, they not only broke their three-month payment agreement with suppliers but couldn’t even afford dumplings for workers during the Spring Festival.

After discussing with Ma Zhao, they ultimately chose not to force the main factory into open collapse, instead advancing an extra month’s profit share to help them get through the Spring Festival peacefully.

Power matters, but perspective matters too.

Right now, the wind favors Ma Zhao; rushing too hard would only put him at a disadvantage.

But Li Ye wasn’t in a hurry—others were.

After the annual summary, the main factory issued directives to the First Factory regarding its newly introduced project.

With its current factory space and workforce, the First Factory could never support a $10 million project—it should be relocated to the new production base in the northern suburbs of Beijing.

Yet although the northern suburb base had been planned for years, it still had no physical presence due to funding shortages—what could they use to welcome the new project?

Eventually, Li Ye received definitive news: the main factory demanded the First Factory invest 100 million yuan into the northern suburb production base.

【You invited a whole table of guests and expect me to pay the bill?】

Li Ye laughed bitterly—he’d gone out of his way to let them eat dumplings for the New Year, and now they were leaning on him.

So Li Ye again instructed his wife to expand rental operations: no matter how much land or how many factories were available, he’d rent them all, guaranteeing not a single one would sit idle.

As for questions from the main factory? Just say “renting’s better than buying.” Li Ye had no intention of being a fool and handing the First Factory a thousand-year-old ginseng to keep it alive.

When a man is beyond saving, even Bian Que turns and runs—what could Li Ye do?

Want to eat ginseng like rice? Do you have kidneys to sell?

By February, with the Spring Festival just days away, production at the First Factory finally slowed.

Everyone had worked nearly a year straight, overtime, chasing profits—surely they deserved a chance to spend some money.

Li Ye himself had felt more exhausted these past six months than during school—he had too many things to manage, too much to learn, and longed for a proper rest, some peace.

“Old Lu, I’m going back to my hometown to visit graves this Spring Festival. You’re a Beijing native—handle the duty roster. You take the middle shift, I’ll get the easy end shifts.”

“What kind of talk is that? That’s not getting an advantage—that’s just what’s right! My home’s right here; you don’t need to stand duty, I’ll cover for you.”

Lu Zhizhang resented Li Ye’s politeness, feeling he should shoulder every shift himself.

But he had no idea that in Li Ye’s past life, he’d often encountered those heartless bastards who always assigned him the middle shift during holidays, making it impossible to return home.

“No, I still need to stand duty. I’ll just take leave after the holiday. Hehe~”

Li Ye smiled, then asked: “By the way, should we assign Lai Jiayi duty too?”

During factory holidays, leadership was responsible for fire prevention, theft prevention, and accident prevention—Lai Jiayi was also a leader of the First Factory, so logically she should be on duty, hence Li Ye’s question.

But Lu Zhizhang sneered: “Forget it! She’s a woman—how could we assign her duty? What if something happens? Who’d take responsibility?”

“Heh, fair enough.”

Li Ye nodded in agreement; both now agreed that if Lai Jiayi didn’t cause trouble, that was already a miracle—they didn’t expect anything else.

But the moment Li Ye finished speaking, Lai Jiayi hurried in, knocking on the door.

“Director Lu, Director Li, a family is outside looking for you—they say they’re relatives of Guo Huai. I thought something was off, so I brought them to the conference room. You’d better go check.”

Li Ye asked in surprise: “Guo Huai? Which Guo Huai?”

Lai Jiayi said: “They say he’s from the Ministry.”

Lu Zhizhang stood up, face grim: “You brought them into the factory without even asking us?”

“I couldn’t just leave them outside the gate! It’s minus twenty degrees out there!”

Lai Jiayi’s eyes darted, complaining bitterly, as if she’d suffered great injustice.

Li Ye gave her a cold glance and walked straight to the conference room.

When they arrived, sure enough—it was clearly wrong.

An old woman glared with fury, two half-grown children wore mourning clothes, and several middle-aged men smoked cigarettes, filling the room with smoke.

Li Ye and Lu Zhizhang entered the room, and the old woman immediately asked: “Are you Directors Lu and Li?”

Lu Zhizhang replied: “Yes, I’m Lu. What do you want?”

The old woman didn’t answer, turning instead to the two children: “Come here, bow to the two directors.”

The children said nothing, knelt down, and banged their heads on the floor—“bang, bang, bang.”

Li Ye and Lu Zhizhang quickly helped them up, but before they could speak, the old woman burst into tears.

“My poor child, how could you be so cruel, leaving us so soon? Your soul can’t even return from Japan!”

“And now, after you died, no one cares for your children or your parents.”

Only after she finished crying did they ask: “Madam, Guo Huai worked for the Ministry—why are you here?”

The old woman wiped her face with her sleeve, sniffling: “After my son died, his wife left, leaving only two children with no one to rely on. My son died working on your factory’s project in Japan—you can’t abandon them!”

“These two children are sixteen and fourteen—you must give them jobs!”

Li Ye and Lu Zhizhang exchanged glances, both seeing anger and disgust in each other’s eyes.

How Guo Huai the secretary died—outsiders didn’t know, but they did. Saying he died of illness was already giving you face!

So now you’re throwing that face away?