Chapter 848: I

On February 13, 1988, the twenty-sixth day of the twelfth lunar month, Beijing endured its coldest cold snap before the Spring Festival.

A powerful frigid wind from Siberia swept southward, carrying snowflakes that ravaged the land, dropping temperatures to minus twenty degrees Celsius overnight; even the most hardy person standing outdoors for twenty minutes would be forced to stamp their feet to keep warm.

Yet despite this weather, over a thousand people lined up outside the factory workers’ club, several long, winding queues slowly crawling forward like frozen snakes.

“Don’t push! Everyone will get their New Year goods and bonus—right now we’re distributing to Casting Workshop One, and in twenty minutes we’ll move to Casting Workshop Two.”

“Everyone else, don’t stand outside in this cold—come according to the schedule posted. Don’t worry, no one’s share will be missing.”

“.”

These were workers from the main factory lining up to collect back-paid New Year goods and bonuses; the main factory claimed the reason was profit reallocation this year.

It wasn’t that the main factory had paid less—it had only paid part of it, with the remainder to be distributed by Sub-factory One.

The excuse sounded plausible, but thousands of workers weren’t fools—everyone knew what was really going on.

If the workers hadn’t staged a collective protest earlier, would you have even bothered to issue the back pay and added welfare goods?

Why was the first payment short? Obviously the factory was short on cash! Don’t talk about “reallocation”—letting Sub-factory One pay the main factory’s workers? That’s humiliation enough to bury you in the moon.

So even though the loudspeakers outside the club kept broadcasting announcements urging people to return and collect according to their queue order, it was useless—workers would rather stand in the snow all day than gamble on anyone’s word.

What if someone else took everything and you got nothing? Could you still have a decent New Year?

If your kids didn’t get enough meat, pocket money, or new clothes, you could still scold them to suppress your anger.

But if you got less than others, your wife wouldn’t even let you touch her—how could anyone bear that?

So no matter how cold it was, they had to wait outside; if they didn’t get their goods today, they wouldn’t leave.

But once workers entered the club, they instantly warmed up and felt at ease.

Because ahead stood four tables, each piled high with stacks of New Year goods, and each table had a large open suitcase filled with colorful bills.

Behind each table sat two groups: one from the main factory’s logistics and finance departments, the other from Sub-factory One’s logistics staff.

“Show your employee ID—Li Ming, from Casting Workshop One! Be careful, don’t mix up names—we’ve got seven Li Mings here!”

“Zhang Shihai, here’s your stuff—take it, count your money, and once you turn around, we won’t take responsibility.”

“.”

Workers arriving near the front were required to show their employee IDs, and both Sub-factory One and the main factory recorded their details.

But their recording methods differed: the main factory flipped through the staff roster, while Sub-factory One, lacking a roster, opened the FoxBASE database on their computer and entered names, ages, and work departments directly.

This seemed like mutual verification of numbers and amounts, but a few insiders knew it was Sub-factory One’s blatant distrust of the main factory.

When the main factory first asked Sub-factory One for a loan to cover emergencies, Sub-factory One flatly refused—hadn’t you just received money under the guise of worker welfare, only to divert it? Now if we hand you cash directly, what’s to stop you from diverting it again?

So finally Ma Zhao and the chief factory director reached a compromise: both sides would distribute goods person by person on-site, ensuring every cent reached the workers’ hands—no one else could touch a single penny.

“Huang Qi, why are you here? You’re from Assembly Workshop Four—we’re only distributing to Casting Workshop One now. Your workshop gets it at 1:30 p.m.”

“Oh come on, I have to go home and take care of my kids this afternoon! I’ve waited two hours to get here—do you expect me to come back this afternoon? That’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous? If you don’t follow the order, we won’t give you anything.”

The main factory’s logistics officer snapped—he’d endured enough hostile stares today and was itching to vent; now someone cut the line—who else would he stop?

But Huang Qi had stood outside in minus twenty degrees for one or two hours—her temper burned hotter than the logistics officer’s—and she immediately shouted back.

“Do you even have any shame? Today Sub-factory One is handing out goods, not you! They haven’t said a word—what are you, anyway?”

“Don’t think I don’t know your dirty tricks—you got a big payment from Sub-factory One and handed it all to people like Guan Liang. Now you’re a beggar, and you’re still trying to boss us around?”

Huang Qi’s sharp insults instantly sparked a chorus of support from other workers.

“Ooo~ Ooo~! Girl, say more! Keep going—humiliate these bastards.”

“Exactly! You got what you deserved—why didn’t you just steal less in the first place? Now who are you putting on airs for?”

“Enough! Stop it!”

Wan Ke saw Huang Qi’s mouth was out of control and about to cause another scene—he immediately scowled and silenced the staff handing out goods.

Then he turned to Li Ye from Sub-factory One: “What do we do about people cutting the line? If chaos breaks out and mistakes happen, can we even have a peaceful New Year?”

“How am I cutting the line? I waited two hours—why is that cutting? Why don’t you reflect on why they didn’t just hand the money directly to you and distribute it to our workshop?”

As another argument loomed, Li Ye stayed silent and looked toward Xiao Zhiyu, now head of the computer group.

Sometimes, certain words should be spoken by subordinates.

Xiao Zhiyu spoke calmly: “Our computer system has indexing and sorting functions—technically, there’s no issue.”

“But yours is more complicated—you have to manually record numbers on paper to cross-check later.”

“Then do it that way!”

Wan Ke scowled, muttered a few words to the logistics staff, and handed Huang Qi her goods.

But Huang Qi didn’t leave—she turned to Li Ye and asked: “Factory Director Li, will Sub-factory One hire new staff next year?”

“Just go! Everyone’s waiting in line for New Year goods—do you want to hold everyone up for your sake? I’ll ask your supervisor how he manages his workers.”

“Don’t threaten me with my supervisor—fire me if you want! I’ll gladly join Sub-factory One—we get new apartments there!”

“Dream on! Sub-factory One’s new apartments are for technical staff—are you a college graduate? Are you even a vocational school graduate?”

Wan Ke and the others sneered at Huang Qi.

But Huang Qi lifted her chin and shouted: “I don’t have a diploma, but I’ve been assembling car instrument panels for ten years.”

“I’ve always won first place in technical competitions—but I’ve never been named a Technical Model Worker. Let’s see who’s really skilled—put me to the test.”

“.”

“Yes, Huang Qi’s assembly skills are top-notch—I can vouch for that.”

“I can confirm too—she just has no connections or backing.”

Suddenly, the workers around her erupted again, all vouching for Huang Qi—cheers so mixed with truth and falsehood that Wan Ke’s face turned black.

Finally, Li Ye said: “Alright, enough. We’ll discuss this later. It’s almost New Year—get your goods and leave quickly. If we’re still handing out after five, we’ll have to pay overtime—and that’s another expense.”

Wan Ke: “.”

【You shouldn’t have said that—now if the workers riot again over overtime pay, this New Year is truly over.】