As he handed out the envelopes, he said, “At your factory, as long as Mr. Jiang has the final say, he’ll definitely treat the workers according to the standards at Shengfei.”
“But that said…” He paused. “Your factory situation is a bit complicated. Mr. Jiang doesn’t have full authority over there yet.”
It was clearly meant as a subtle warning, a trap for the naive—but the workers were already convinced.
One of them shouted loudly, “Director Pan, let Mr. Jiang come run our factory!”
“Exactly!”
Pan Xiao let out a quiet sigh. He understood how effortlessly Mr. Jiang had won the workers’ hearts and trust just by touring the factory.
The workers, like those at Shengfei, dreamed of cafeterias with plenty of meat, four-shift rotations, six-hour days, weekly rest, piece-rate pay, and high wages. No one could stop them from yearning for that.
Pan Xiao stayed silent, thinking: fine, if Mr. Jiang genuinely wants the best for Hongming, I’ll welcome him.
Yet he didn’t forget Jiang Luo’s past—bribing leaders, pushing out the Singaporean investors. He remained wary.
A few days later, in a private dining room at a restaurant in Haimen, the young Mr. Jiang arrived and immediately pushed a small briefcase toward Pan Xiao.
……………………..
Pan Xiao lowered his eyes onto the briefcase, his mood strikingly similar to that day on Nanjing East Road when Li Fengrui handed a briefcase to Jiang Luo.
The pressure from a superior’s authority was unmistakable.
Pan Xiao’s expression hardened; he realized he hadn’t been wrong to remain cautious. A boss was a boss—tricks and tactics like these were beyond ordinary people.
Jiang Luo, sitting calmly beside him, smiled. “Director Pan, what are you thinking? That I’m here to bribe you like I did those other leaders?”
Pan Xiao raised his hand, pressing down on the briefcase, pushing it back with a cold face. “No need for such expense.” He rose to leave.
“Hey.”
Jiang Luo gestured for him to sit and reached for the clasp on the briefcase. Opening it, he said, “Don’t overthink it—it’s not for you.”
Pan Xiao froze, then sat back down, eyes flicking to the cash. “What do you mean?”
Jiang Luo nodded toward the money inside. Calmly, he explained: “This is for the fifty or so worker shareholders who bought in. Each gets a small portion.”
“You could call it a bribe, if you want.”
Pan Xiao still didn’t understand.
Jiang Luo leaned back, his injured arm in a sling, legs crossed in his usual casual manner. He spoke slowly:
“We sent gifts to the former plant manager and other leaders. Naturally, you worker shareholders get something too—think of it as a welcome gift for newcomers.”
“Call it a bribe if you like, because in managing the factory later, I’ll genuinely need the support of the workers—especially the 15% shareholder group you belong to.”
“You know why I’m doing this?”
Pan Xiao looked at him.
“My 45% plus your 15% gives me absolute authority in the factory,” Jiang Luo said. “I don’t have to butter up each leader with gifts; I can run the factory my way.”
He raised an eyebrow at Pan Xiao. “You think I have money but won’t spend it? Why would I give it to individual leaders?”
“I just arrived. If I hadn’t spent a little to win people over, that Singaporean wouldn’t have left. If he hadn’t left, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Now that I’m here, I need to secure my footing. Your support gives me extra leverage.”
“If I secure my position, Hongming can thrive like Shengfei: good machines, plenty of material, producing clothes that can be sold nationwide.”
Pan Xiao thought for a moment, then pushed the briefcase back. “If you need our support, that’s fine. But as long as you manage well, the workers will back you even without this money.”
Jiang Luo laughed lazily, pushing the briefcase again. “Think a little more flexibly. If I don’t give it out, workers will always remember me bribing the leaders. If I do, everyone shares, and soon they’ll forget about bribery altogether.”
“This is for me, to pave the way.”
“Besides,” he continued, “having money distributed is good. It gives confidence to the workers who bought shares. They see that paying for shares gave them more than those who didn’t. Otherwise, everyone treats them like fools.”
“In a sense, it’s also about easing minds.”
“You know how it is—everyone has a sense of fairness. Compared to ordinary workers, you naturally favor those who invested when the factory needed it most. They’re not fools—they’re ‘heroes.’”
Pan Xiao’s heart swelled. As a leading investor, he had felt restrained, wanting the factory to succeed without being looked down upon.
Now Mr. Jiang called them heroes, giving voice to all that pent-up frustration.
Pan Xiao’s eyes reddened slightly.
He thought: yes, the leaders treated them as fools. Onlookers, mocking the worker-investors’ money? Fools. But were they really?
They only wanted to reform the factory, to rebuild it. They were certainly not fools.
Today, someone called them “heroes.”
Pan Xiao blinked back the heat in his eyes. “All the worker shareholders stayed—they all want the factory to succeed and be rebuilt.”
“Good. I’ll take the money and distribute it to them,” Jiang Luo said. “Thank you for understanding us.”
He patted Pan Xiao on the shoulder, squeezing slightly. “No thanks needed. I’m doing this for myself too.”
He promised, “Don’t worry. As long as I take over the factory smoothly, I’ll run Hongming just like Shengfei, bringing it back from the brink.”
“Tell the shareholder workers: as long as they support me managing the factory, they will receive better treatment than the other workers. They deserve it.”
At the word “deserve,” Pan Xiao’s eyes welled up further.
He pinched the corner of his eye to hold back tears, then reached out to shake Jiang Luo’s hand. “On behalf of all workers, the fifty or so shareholder workers, we welcome you, Mr. Jiang.”
“You’re welcome,” Jiang Luo said, patting his shoulder reassuringly.
And just like that, Jiang Luo secured the workers’ hearts, gained full support, and officially moved into Hongming.
Upon entering, he immediately tasked Pan Xiao with counting the remaining workers and inventory.
As expected—and somewhat frustrating—many of the imported machines Wang Feng had mentioned were indeed problematic.
Pan Xiao was dumbfounded: “These machines were brought in, stacked in the warehouse, never used—how could they be like this?”
Jiang Luo sat in the now-empty former plant manager’s office, calmly reviewing the accounts for the past two years. “No wonder—so many freeloaders. Your previous leaders colluded, making fake invoices, buying cheap inferior equipment, and pocketing the rest.”
He added softly, “Factories like yours—if they don’t go bankrupt, who does?”
Pan Xiao cursed the former managers in his dialect.
Jiang Luo continued going through the accounts: “Don’t be mad. Bring the accountants here to record each of these inferior machines, update the ledgers properly.”
“I’ll buy new machines. You lead the workers to clear the workshops, scrap what needs scrapping, depreciate what needs depreciation, and record everything. The accountants follow too. We’ll make the accounts crystal clear.”
Jiang Luo stayed in Haimen for several days. Huo Zongzhuo called: “It’s empty here without you. Talking on the phone even echoes.”
Jiang Luo, standing outside the factory with one hand in his pocket, holding his phone, replied, “I’m busy, Dad. Busy flying around.”
Huo Zongzhuo’s tone was caring: “Take it slow. Don’t rush or overwork.”
Jiang Luo hummed, “If I get tired, great. Then you’ll have to drop work and come accompany me in the hospital.”
Huo Zongzhuo laughed indulgently: “I know. I’ll find time, put down work, and come to Haimen to see you.”
Meanwhile, back in Haicheng, Zhao Mingshi returned home and said he wanted to study abroad. He was set on pursuing computer science, learning C and other programming languages, believing that computer languages would be the true universal language.
Zhao Guangyuan and Su Lan neither immediately agreed nor refused, letting Zhao Mingshi return to school while they discussed it.
After he left, Zhao Guangyuan and Su Lan started planning. Su Lan thought that since Zhao Mingshi had already been accepted to Fudan, studying abroad was inevitable. If the child wanted to go, it might be better to let him spend two years abroad. Perhaps later he could even get a green card and stay in the U.S.