Chapter 33 Your Worth Is Not That Great

Even someone as slow-witted as Chen Tianyi could see what was happening. Still, he had no choice but to press on, pointing at Chai Jin. “It’s him, Brother Ruilong. He’s the one who smashed our shop.”

“I was beaten by him, too.”

He wanted to curse, but held back, uncertain of the relationship between Chai Jin and Feng Haodong.

Zhang Ruilong asked, “Mr. Chai, is that true?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, a hint of politeness laced his words.

Chai Jin stared at Zhang Ruilong, a coldness in his gaze. He paused before speaking, “So you’re his boss?”

Zhang Ruilong was momentarily stunned, embarrassment creeping in. “He works under me, that’s true…”

“He’s not humiliated my father publicly just once. Even if I had smashed your shop—though I didn’t—so what? You push a man to ruin over fifty yuan, isn’t he asking to be beaten?”

Zhang Ruilong quickly pieced together what must have happened. Just from Chai Jin’s words, he could be certain Chai Jin hadn’t smashed the shop. If he had, he wouldn’t need to hide it.

He glanced at Feng Haodong and continued, “What’s this about the debt?”

“Sorry, I haven’t really handled business affairs,” Feng Haodong replied.

Chai Jin retorted, “Didn’t I just make myself clear?”

“Chai Jin, don’t be so ungrateful!” Chen Tianyi snapped. “You really think running a distillery means you don’t know your place anymore? Do you realize who’s standing before you? Even if the county magistrate showed up, Brother Ruilong wouldn’t…”

“Enough!” Zhang Ruilong slapped Chen Tianyi mid-sentence. “Shut your mouth!”

Feng Haodong frowned at Chen Tianyi. “Brother Ruilong, your men will get you in trouble one day.”

“You’re Chen Tianyi, right? I remember you now, also from our village. Your father, Chen Jianguo, went to prison for hooliganism in the seventies, spent his life stealing and doing shady things. Seems you’re just like him.”

Feng Haodong’s stance was clear—he was siding with Chai Jin.

Zhang Ruilong’s mood plummeted. He slapped Chen Tianyi’s head again, knocking it sideways.

“Explain yourself clearly. If you don’t tell the truth, I’ll make sure you regret it!”

Zhang Ruilong could afford to ignore Chai Jin, but not Feng Haodong. He had some measure of Feng Haodong’s influence in the south. And after all these years as his own boss, would he risk offending his superior over a subordinate?

Chai Jin spoke coolly, “Don’t settle your disputes in my distillery. This place is a model private enterprise for Yuanli County, not some gangster den.”

“Brother Dong, let me see you out.”

With that, the two left the office.

Zhang Ruilong’s dignity was left in shambles, all thanks to Chen Tianyi. His face darkened to its depths. He dragged Chen Tianyi out of the distillery as well.

…

That evening, Feng Haodong called Chai Jin. Over the phone, he explained that Zhang Ruilong had sorted out what had happened and apologized to Chai Jin. He also said Zhang Ruilong had punished Chen Tianyi and suggested they arrange a dinner for a formal apology.

Chai Jin thought it over and agreed. He had to give Feng Haodong the respect he deserved, lest he seem ungracious.

The next day, Liu Qingwen returned from Daohua Village with news: Chen Jianguo had rushed to the county hospital overnight—his son, Chen Tianyi, had had two fingers cut off. Asked who the culprit was, Chen Tianyi refused to say.

When Liu Qingwen relayed this in Chai Jin’s office, Chai Jin was slightly surprised.

Liu Qingwen, seeing Chai Jin’s silence, grew anxious. “Brother Jin, you didn’t do this, did you?”

Chai Jin turned to him. “Do you think I would?”

Liu Qingwen breathed a sigh of relief. “I thought you might have. But you can’t do something like that—too many people in the county are watching you. If it needs doing, let me handle it.”

Chai Jin changed the subject. “Alright, we've signed the contract with Feng Haodong. Let's discuss the next steps for production.”

Feng Haodong’s southern distribution network was vast, and the distillery’s supply was still outstripped by demand. Suddenly, they had the South China market to supply as well, which only increased the pressure on production—it meant they would have to expand again.

The two spent a long time discussing the matter in the office.

Around midday, Wang Xiaoli entered.

Liu Qingwen, quick to read the room, found an excuse to leave.

Wang Xiaoli, lively as ever, propped her arms on the desk while Chai Jin was busy with paperwork. “Xiao Jin, would you come to my house for a meal?”

“Oh? Is it a special occasion?” Chai Jin looked up, puzzled.

She giggled. “You forget, it’s the Little New Year. My dad wants you to come for dinner.”

Chai Jin thought for a moment—nothing pressing was on his schedule. He remembered Wang Xiaoli’s parents well. Her father, Wang Lianggang, was especially fond of wine. Back during the collective economy, he’d been a village official. Later, after some unpleasantness, he went to work at the lighter factory.

He recalled Wang Lianggang and his own father often sitting together in the fields, smoking hand-rolled tobacco leaves. Their friendship meant their children got along as well—a kind of inheritance. In recent years, though, his father’s debts had made him withdrawn, so they hadn’t visited much.

Reviewing these memories in his mind, Chai Jin nodded. “Alright, it’s been a long time since I saw Uncle Gang.”

“Hehe, you’re the best,” Wang Xiaoli’s face bloomed with a sweet smile.

Ten minutes later, they left the factory.

Wang Lianggang’s home was modest. Though the couple had become city dwellers, they never put on airs before the villagers of Daohua. In his previous life, their ending was quite peaceful—a retirement pension and a life spent here in this neighborhood. It was a good life.

With Chai Guomin’s son visiting, both Wang Lianggang and his wife were in high spirits. Wang Xiaoli’s mother, Bai Chunyan, prepared a large spread of dishes. When the table was full, Wang Lianggang brought out two bottles of Xiao Li Bai Jiu.

“Who would have thought the old wine from our Daohua Village would have a second spring?”

“Zhang Aiming is no cheat—he may have changed the packaging, but the taste is just as it was years ago.”

“Xiao Jin, want a small bottle?”

Chai Jin had business that afternoon, so he politely declined. “Uncle, I have to head to the county government after lunch, so I’ll pass.”

Wang Lianggang considered for a moment. “Alright, then. Your work is important.” He smiled, sat, twisted open the cap, took a sip, smacked his lips, and picked up some food with his chopsticks. “When’s your father coming to the city?”

Chai Jin smiled wryly. “He doesn’t want to come, and there’s nothing I can do. But before I leave Yuanli County, I’ll buy them a place in the city. Whether they choose to live there is up to them.”

“Uncle, you’ve known my father for so many years—you know how stubborn he is.”