Chapter Ninety-Three: Return to the Red Flag Factory

Chen Huajiang was a welder at the factory, specializing in welding work for rolled steel plates. The area he used to work in was naturally the gathering place of the plate rolling workshop, with a total of five people: besides He Song, Zhang Yu, and Wang Dali, the other two were Ma Guoan, nicknamed Monkey Ma, who had a sharp-faced, monkey-like appearance, and Liu Ping, who wore his long hair and glasses. In the old factory, Liu Ping was taciturn and had little interaction with Chen Huajiang.

“Parent meeting, parent meeting. As my daughter’s father, as Huanhuan’s parent, of course I have to come,” Chen Huajiang said with a smile, pulling out a pack of Asma cigarettes and handing one to each of them.

He carried two packs of cigarettes in his pocket—one Huazi, one Asma—and which to hand out depended on the occasion. It was a matter of sizing up the people present; if Ma Guoan weren’t here, he would give out Huazi, but with Ma Guoan present, it had to be Asma.

With memories from his previous life, Chen Huajiang knew full well that Ma Guoan was no good. After the factory closed, Ma Guoan became a thief, was caught many times, and eventually ended up in prison. In the end, he was even executed, because in his madness, he tried to steal railway tracks!

Railway tracks are vital to the safe operation of trains, affecting the lives of hundreds or thousands of people. Fortunately, the railway workers discovered the theft early and alerted the train operators in time, thus averting disaster and saving all the passengers.

Would Chen Huajiang dare flaunt his wealth in front of someone like Ma Guoan? Wasn’t he afraid Ma Guoan would set his sights on him?

“Chen Huajiang, seems like you’re not doing so well. Why are you smoking Asma?” Ma Guoan took the cigarette with a sneer, his face full of disdain. “Your barbecue stall rakes in money every day, surely you can afford better cigarettes, right?”

He pulled out his own cigarettes, tapped the Asma against the box to show off. His pack was Red Plum, which was considered a notch above Asma at the time.

“Have you ever patronized my barbecue stall? With your guts, would you dare offend Gou Weidong, or Wu De?” Chen Huajiang replied with contempt, making no effort to hide his attitude.

Ma Guoan paused at his words, then chuckled, “Of course not. A wise man doesn’t stand under a dangerous wall. I’m not stupid enough to offend Wu De or Gou Weidong just for a barbecue meal. But your stall isn’t doing so well, is it?” He grinned, clearly pleased with himself, revealing his petty nature.

Chen Huajiang ignored him and began chatting with Zhang Yu, He Song, and Wang Dali.

As for Liu Ping, he sat quietly, smoking in silence. Chen Huajiang didn’t know him well, only that Liu Ping had died young. At the time, Chen Huajiang was busy with his own business and hadn’t attended the funeral, only sending a contribution of two hundred yuan.

But he had heard bits and pieces about Liu Ping from former colleagues. Liu Ping was taciturn but willing to lower his pride; after being laid off, he immediately bought a human-powered tricycle and started a passenger transport business. Later, he switched to an electric tricycle, managed to get by, and even bought a new house in the northern district. But after just two years, he was diagnosed with liver cancer.

“Liu Ping, you should cut back on smoking. Your complexion is paler than anyone else’s. Get your liver checked when you have the chance,” Chen Huajiang, thinking of his fate, couldn’t help but give a word of advice.

Liu Ping was stunned, and the others were also bewildered, not understanding why Chen Huajiang said such a thing.

“Hey, Chen Huajiang, are you cursing Liu Ping?” Ma Guoan jeered, tilting his head and sneering provocatively.

Chen Huajiang didn’t bother arguing. He’d already said what he could out of old colleagues’ consideration. There was no way for him to explain further. How could he say he had foreknowledge?

“I heard Wu Lei is sponsoring twenty yuan,” He Song suddenly nodded toward the east side of the basketball court, speaking quietly to Chen Huajiang.

Upon hearing this, Wang Dali and Zhang Yu both nodded in agreement.

“I’ve heard it too. Wu Lei is notorious for his big mouth, so the rumor has spread far and wide.”

“His son is a troublemaker in class. Last time, he lifted Teacher Wang’s skirt and made her cry. Another time, he pushed the Niu family’s boy to the ground and knocked out his teeth, and instead of apologizing, he brought people to threaten Niu Xingpai. With a son like that, how could Wu Lei not pay extra?”

“Isn’t it all because his uncle is Wu Min? He’s used to being domineering in the factory, and now his son has grown up with the same attitude.”

As He Song spoke, the three of them commented with disdain, their eyes full of resentment as they glanced at the crowd on the other side.

Chen Huajiang looked over. It was a large group, gathered around a slightly overweight middle-aged man, chatting.

They belonged to the coal stove workshop, the hottest workshop in Hongqi Factory. At that time, every household used coal stoves, and as one of only two factories in Nanming City producing them, Hongqi’s stoves were in constant demand. In theory, it should have been profitable.

Yet, the reality was the factory operated at a loss, which was almost comical.

Even more absurd, after the factory shut down, most workers lived in hardship, but Wu De’s family thrived and became increasingly arrogant.

Among them was Wu Lei, who later opened the first 4S shop in Nanming City, always surrounded by followers and basking in his success.

“Brother Chen, they’re coming over,” He Song suddenly nudged Chen Huajiang, whispering.

Chen Huajiang snapped out of his memories of the future and saw Wu Lei leading a large group toward them.

“Well, if it isn’t Chen Huajiang, the one kicked out of the factory. How do you have the face to come back? You’re not a worker here—do you even qualify to be here?” Wu De, cigarette dangling from his lips, swaggered over, staring at Chen Huajiang with a mocking tone.

He was Wu De’s cousin and knew all about the conflict between Wu De and Chen Huajiang, so naturally he wouldn’t miss the chance to put Chen Huajiang down.

“Isn’t your wife from the grain depot? Nicknamed Iron Funnel. Doesn’t she show up at the factory all the time?” Chen Huajiang replied, blowing smoke in his face.

At the mention of Iron Funnel, Wu Lei’s expression darkened and laughter rippled through the crowd.

The nickname Iron Funnel had been given to Wu Lei’s wife, Chen Qiuyan, by farmers from the surrounding towns and villages—big scoop in, small scoop out, and the missing grain went into her own pocket.

The nickname was well-known in Hongqi Factory; everyone understood what it meant, though usually only whispered behind Wu Lei’s back. No one would be foolish enough to say it to his face.

But Chen Huajiang said it outright, with complete disregard for Wu Lei’s feelings.

“Fine, fine, Chen Huajiang, you’ve got guts!” Wu Lei threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it.

He stared coldly at Chen Huajiang and said, “You’re no longer a worker here. Your barbecue stall profits from our factory’s money. I want to see how much you’ll donate, and what right you have to use our factory’s education resources.”

“And now that the factory’s not doing well, I hear there’s talk of clearing out those shameless parasites who cling to our benefits. I hope you’ll still be so confident then.”

As he spoke, his gaze deliberately swept over Huanhuan, who was perched on Chen Huajiang’s shoulders.