Chapter Two: Compensation

“Ah!” Ma Hongfeng froze for a moment before letting out a bloodcurdling scream, startling the crowd of onlookers.

With a sharp “smack!”, Chen Huajiang dealt her another slap across the face, abruptly silencing her cries.

Both sides of Ma Hongfeng’s face were flushed red and visibly swollen.

“You—you dare to hit me?” Ma Hongmei pointed a trembling finger at Chen Huajiang, her whole body shaking with anger.

“Just you wait!” Ma Hongmei, after several attempts to steady her breath, didn’t dare to make a move against the notorious Chen Huajiang. She spat out a threat and hurried home.

That evening, supper consisted only of cornbread and pickled vegetables. It seemed this family truly had fallen on hard times.

Chen Huajiang’s intervention had caused a subtle shift in Lin Jiayin’s attitude towards him. Yet, wariness lingered. The family ate in silence, heads bowed, barely exchanging a word.

That night, the three of them slept together on a hard plank bed. Chen Huajiang and Lin Jiayin each took a side, with Huanhuan nestled between them.

Gazing at Lin Jiayin’s smooth, snow-white back, Chen Huajiang’s heart burned with longing, but he forced himself to close his eyes.

“I must win her heart back,” he vowed silently.

The next morning, Lin Jiayin rose early to take Huanhuan to kindergarten before heading to work herself.

When Chen Huajiang awoke, he found only a dry, rock-hard cornbread bun left on the table. He squeezed it—it felt like it could kill a man—and couldn’t help but give a wry smile.

He was no stranger to hardship; as a child, he’d often gone hungry. But to go from feasting on Michelin-quality meals every day to choking down this unyielding cornbread was a bitter pill to swallow.

He left the bun on the table, turned, and headed out the door.

Hongqi Factory, officially Jiangzhou Red Flag Machinery Manufacturing Plant, was a state-owned enterprise, now at the height of its glory. Over three thousand workers, with more than ten thousand family members, all lived in the community surrounding the plant.

Chen Huajiang didn’t bother with the main gate. Instead, he deftly scaled the perimeter wall, made his way through several twists and turns, and arrived directly at the office of the logistics department director.

The logistics department wielded real power, with plenty of perks. The director enjoyed his own private office.

Without knocking, Chen Huajiang walked straight in.

Behind the desk sat a man in his fifties, wearing old-fashioned brown glasses, sipping tea and reading the newspaper.

“Good morning, Director Gou,” Chen Huajiang said, pulling up a chair and sitting down without invitation.

“Who let you in here? Don’t you know the rules?” Gou Zhiguo was incensed by Chen Huajiang’s insolence.

As a department head, especially one with real authority, he was used to being treated with utmost respect. He slammed his teacup down heavily, snorted coldly, and glared, clearly displeased.

Any ordinary worker would have been frightened out of their wits by now.

After all, who would dare cross the head of the logistics department and expect to come out unscathed?

Yet Chen Huajiang remained completely unfazed, his expression calm and composed. He had carefully analyzed the circumstances surrounding his dismissal.

Two months ago, Gou Zhiguo’s son, Gou Weidong, got into a fight with Chen Huajiang over a card game during lunch break. Afterward, only Chen Huajiang was fired, while Gou Weidong received not so much as a slap on the wrist.

Clearly, Gou Zhiguo had abused his power to settle personal scores.

Chen Huajiang hadn’t achieved success in business by being timid—he was bold, shrewd, and ruthless when necessary. After weighing his options, he decided not to let this matter rest.

“Director Gou, I’m no longer a worker at Red Flag Factory, so you can drop the official airs,” Chen Huajiang said, leisurely picking up a pack of Great Front Gate cigarettes from Gou Zhiguo’s desk and lighting one for himself.

Authority, after all, was often a contest of presence.

Chen Huajiang’s unruffled demeanor began to make Gou Zhiguo uneasy.

“Your dismissal was the factory’s decision. If you’re here to cause trouble, I’ll call security right now!” Gou Zhiguo said, putting on a show of authority, threatening to call for help.

“Director Gou, you might be able to intimidate others with that talk, but not me. I’ve been learning a lot about the law lately,” Chen Huajiang replied coolly. “My fight with your son was mutual. Why was I the only one dismissed? Unless you’d care to explain it to the factory director?”

Suddenly, Chen Huajiang stood, fixing Gou Zhiguo with an unwavering gaze.

“You—!” Gou Zhiguo was startled.

Though Chen Huajiang had always been a bit wild, work had kept him in check. Now that he was out, he had nothing left to lose.

Moreover, Gou Zhiguo knew full well that he’d handled the dismissal on his own authority—the factory director had never been informed.

“I heard the provincial inspection team will be visiting soon. If I take this matter up the chain…” Chen Huajiang bluffed. In truth, he had no inside knowledge, but he was betting that Gou Zhiguo, with a guilty conscience, wouldn’t dare call his bluff.

Sure enough, Gou Zhiguo’s expression flickered uneasily.

“My post is gone anyway. Give me five hundred yuan, or nobody will have any peace,” Chen Huajiang said, stubbing out his cigarette hard.

He knew working in the factory would never bring real wealth. Even if he had kept his job, he would have resigned eventually. This was the perfect opportunity to secure some startup capital.

“I acted strictly according to factory regulations,” Gou Zhiguo replied. “But out of sympathy, I can give you something privately…”

At the time, wage differences weren’t large. Even as a department director, Gou Zhiguo earned just over fifty yuan a month—five hundred yuan was a year’s salary.

Of course, that didn’t include the public funds he had embezzled.

“Let’s go, then,” Chen Huajiang said with a cold smile, rising to his feet.

In the finest family housing in the factory district, Gou Zhiguo went home and fetched five hundred yuan—most of it ill-gotten gains he dared not deposit in the bank.

“Director Gou, until we meet again,” Chen Huajiang said, slipping the money into his pocket without counting it. To him, it was just a little interest.

He wandered into a supply and marketing cooperative, casually browsing the shelves.

Now, with a small fortune in hand, he was searching for a way to make it grow.

It was the dawn of the transition from a planned to a market economy. In this backward little city, the planned economy still ruled.

The cooperative’s offerings were fairly complete, but only covered basic needs. As for hot commodities like televisions or refrigerators, those required a ration coupon—impossible for him to obtain.

Even if he wanted to dabble in trade, he had no connections or quotas.

After making a circuit of the store—where no one paid him any mind, the saleswomen chatting and cracking melon seeds, one of them knitting a sweater—he finally spoke up.

“Excuse me, I’d like to buy something.”

This was not an era where “the customer is always right.” In state-run shops and restaurants, it was not unheard of for staff to rough up customers.

The woman shot him a glare before reluctantly coming over to serve him.

Chen Huajiang bought two pieces of fried dough twist and a can of preserves, then headed home.

As soon as he entered the building’s stairwell, he spotted a young man with a shaved head squatting by his door, smoking.

“Daguang!”

“Huajiang, brother!”

Both men brightened at the sight of each other.

“I was worried you’d be down after getting fired, so I came to drink with you. Looks like you’ve hit it big, huh?” Daguang said, pulling a bottle of white liquor from his green canvas satchel and gesturing toward Chen Huajiang’s bag of treats.

In those days, though people had enough to eat, there were few luxury foods. What Chen Huajiang carried—fried dough twists and canned goods—were considered indulgences, usually reserved for holidays.

“Cut the nonsense, come inside,” Chen Huajiang said, ushering him into the apartment.