Chapter 874: You Mock Me for Not Understanding Management?

On the sixth day of the first lunar month, Monday, Li Ye left for work half an hour earlier than usual.

Because today was the first official workday after the Spring Festival at Plant One, he needed to stand at the factory gate and observe the workers’ morale.

If most workers showed signs of post-holiday laziness, then as plant manager, Li Ye would have to use both carrot and stick to snap them out of it.

Plant One was a technical enterprise—laziness could never produce top-tier products; after more than a year of hard work to build up Plant One’s reputation, he couldn’t afford to ruin it through carelessness.

But as Li Ye drove near Plant One, he saw many workers already entering the factory in high spirits.

Li Ye checked his watch—it was still over twenty minutes until work started! Had these workers voluntarily come in early?

Li Ye pulled over, and the arriving workers began greeting him.

“Manager Li, Happy New Year!”

“Ah, Happy New Year, happy New Year! You’re all here awfully early today!”

“Hey, it’s the first day of the new year—we’ve got to be diligent! Hehehe~”

“Manager, rest assured—we know what’s important. You were kind enough to let us have five straight days off, and we won’t get lazy because of it.”

According to official holiday regulations, the 1988 Spring Festival was only three days off, but the fourth day was a Saturday,

so before the holiday, Li Ye had discussed with Lu Zhizhang and issued a vague notice—on the fourth day of the first lunar month, each department should prepare for resuming work according to its own situation; the factory would not impose specific requirements.

The machines had only been shut down for three or four days—what preparation was even needed?

So most departments and workshops sent only Party cadre to inspect the premises on the fourth day, while the rest of the staff enjoyed a rare “mini-long holiday.”

Judging by the workers’ current state, the result was quite good.

But Li Ye’s decision wasn’t universally supported—some people always loved to twist rules into weapons to control others.

“Deputy Manager Li, Happy New Year!”

Just as Li Ye finished greeting a few workers, he heard the voice of Comrade Lai from the union.

Lai Jiayi walked up to Li Ye with a smile, exchanged New Year greetings, then lowered her voice: “Deputy Manager Li, I heard yesterday that the head office is very unhappy about our collective absenteeism—they’re sending someone to investigate. You’d better prepare yourself.”

Li Ye frowned: “Plant One operates on independent accounting—how does it concern them how we run production?”

“How doesn’t it concern them?”

Lai Jiayi was equally puzzled: “The state mandates work resumes on the fourth day, but our factory only had a few people show up. Never mind the bad impression—the state loses money when official workdays go unworked. Who pays for that loss?”

Bullshit about bad impression. Bullshit about state loss.

Li Ye snapped: “Comrade Lai, did you even come to work on the fourth day?”

Lai Jiayi froze, instantly furious.

She’d gone out of her way to warn Li Ye in advance—such a big favor in the workplace—and now he was repaying her kindness like a dog biting Lu Dongbin, blind to good intentions.

Lai Jiayi let out a cold laugh: “Deputy Manager Li, I officially requested leave in advance—why don’t you go check my leave slip?”

“You misunderstood me,”

Li Ye waved his hand: “I came on duty on the fourth day myself—I even went over to the head office to take a look. I found almost no one there on time.

They all dragged their feet, slouched around, gathered in groups smoking and gossiping, machines completely idle. By noon, hardly anyone was left. What kind of productivity is that?”

Li Ye pointed to the workers around them: “Now look at our workers—they’ve been on the job twenty minutes early. Look at their drive. How can you still find fault with them?”

Lai Jiayi stared, wanting to argue—but the words died on her lips. She could only fall silent.

She knew full well what the head office workers were like. Even if they returned to normal production within a week after the fourth, that’d be a miracle.

The 130s they produced either ran off-track or ate tires—those were the best cases. Many even stole things from the factory at night.

The workers at Plant One weren’t just more energetic than those at the head office—they were also far more disciplined in their work attitude.

Both were Beijing 130s, but those bearing the Plant One label cost thousands more—proof of reputation and quality!

Lai Jiayi swallowed hard and muttered: “Our piece-rate pay system is different from the head office’s, but rules are rules…”

Even seeing the workers’ enthusiasm, Lai Jiayi didn’t believe it came from high awareness—she thought these fools were just working hard for a few coins.

But wasn’t everyone in this world chasing after a few coins?

Rules, rules—always rules.

Hearing Lai Jiayi bring up rules again, Li Ye grew irritated.

In his past life, he’d already experienced the “power” of rules.

Some leaders in his old unit loved creating endless regulations.

No more than two bathroom breaks per day, no more than five minutes each.

No prolonged phone use during work hours—even for work-related needs, you had to submit a written report.

One minute late = half-day wage deduction. Overtime under one hour = no overtime pay.

What good did these rules do except let you abuse your authority to the extreme, enforcing “follow me or perish”? What positive impact did they have on production?

Workers aren’t fools. If you endlessly enforce rules without understanding their hardships or needs, they’ll either quit—or become masters of slacking off.

Those in their forties or fifties, with elderly parents and young children, might endure it. But the young hotheads? They’ll just smash your whole operation—and then you’ll sit in the toilet and cry.

You won’t cry for five minutes.

So Li Ye didn’t argue further with Lai Jiayi—he simply said: “Even the best rules must produce results to be valid. Our workers follow the rules—but what good does that do?”

“How to motivate workers’ labor enthusiasm is a profound subject in economic management—ordinary people can’t even grasp its threshold.

If the head office really sends someone to question us, let’s run a direct comparison test—see which side has more energetic workers and better product quality!”

Lai Jiayi stood stunned for seconds—only when Li Ye walked away did she feel like she was about to explode.

【Are you mocking me? Are you saying I’ve never even touched the threshold of management?】

Motivating workers’ enthusiasm? That used to be my specialty, you know? That’s exactly what the union does!

A banner, a certificate, a porcelain mug—those could get workers jumping with joy.

But you, Li Ye, ignore the rules—throwing out bonuses and houses—how am I supposed to use my decades-honed management methods now?

【You’re young and arrogant, don’t understand how insatiable desire is. I bet after you give out all the bonuses and houses, you’ll have nothing left to give, you idiot!】

Lai Jiayi cursed loudly in her mind, wishing over and over that Li Ye’s fate was one of peak-to-collapse—climb higher, fall harder.

But she didn’t know that as reform and opening deepened, most of the banners and certificates she once revered as gospel would gradually lose their power—only a few would retain special, potent effects.

An era had irrevocably passed—and a brand-new one was arriving.