Chapter 72: Conflict Rekindled

Hosting events is also a form of employee welfare. Chen Anlong believed that Jiang Fan would surely approve of such things, which was why he agreed to Vice President Tang’s suggestion. Organizing an event always comes with opportunities for extra earnings, and Chen Anlong wanted to use this as a chance to get closer to Jiang Fan by involving him in the preparations.

However, seeing that Jiang Fan didn’t appreciate the offer and made no effort to show him any respect, Chen Anlong lost interest in further conversation. He excused himself with the claim of having work to do, leaving Jiang Fan alone on the sofa by the coffee table.

Jiang Fan didn’t linger. He nodded a brief goodbye to Chen Anlong, whose face was dark with anger, and left the office at once.

Returning to Vice President Tang’s office, Jiang Fan knocked several times, but there was no answer. He was just about to leave when Li Taiyong, the vice president next door, flung open his office door and snapped, “There’s no one in that office. What are you knocking for so long for? Don’t you know it’s working hours? The way you’re banging away, how are the rest of us supposed to get any work done?”

Among the senior management at Dafa, Li Taiyong ranked near the bottom, but when it came to lording it over the workers, he outdid any other vice president, even Chen Anlong. When passing by employees, he wouldn’t even spare them a glance, and when scolding middle and junior managers, he did so as if berating his own servants, without a shred of restraint.

Not only was he arrogant and aloof, but he was also greedy. He cultivated a group of middle managers eager to curry favor with him, collecting illicit referral fees for bringing people into the factory, and even encouraged those managers to fine employees more, all to ingratiate himself with Chen Anlong.

He knew Jiang Fan was not someone who feared authority, but he lashed out now because Jiang Fan had touched his interests. Chen Anlong’s recent ambiguous attitude toward Jiang Fan made him think, “Well, I’m still a manager from Taiwan.” Now, with an excuse to put Jiang Fan in his place, he thought if things escalated, Chen Anlong, as his fellow countryman, would surely back him up.

He had no idea that after Chen Anlong’s recent setbacks, he was actually trying to win Jiang Fan over.

Jiang Fan, having just been met with a cold shoulder in Chen Anlong’s office, was already simmering with anger, though he had found no outlet for it. Had it been anyone else, Jiang Fan would have considered whether his knocking had disturbed others’ work and, if so, wouldn’t have talked back if they complained. But Li Taiyong was different. Remembering how Li would berate mainland managers with such arrogance, Jiang Fan strode up to him and snapped, “Don’t use your usual tricks on me. What business of yours is it if I knock on a door? If you keep whining and throwing your weight around, I swear I’ll embarrass you right here and now.”

Jiang Fan’s barrage of invective left the habitually overbearing Li Taiyong unable to respond. Knowing he couldn’t win in a fight, he tried to threaten Jiang Fan financially. Pointing at him, he barked, “Mainlander, you were in the wrong first, and you dare to act tough with me? Believe me, I’ll dock your bonus and make sure you don’t see a penny this month!”

That single word, “Mainlander,” completely enraged Jiang Fan. He slapped Li Taiyong across the face and spat, “You idiot! I get paid for my work, not from your mother’s handouts. Keep pointing fingers and I’ll make sure your other cheek matches this one.”

Li Taiyong clutched his face and shouted, “Security! Security! Get this mainlander out of the factory right now!”

He knew full well that security was patrolling the plant floor and would never come to the offices, but he yelled anyway, wanting Chen Anlong and the other vice presidents to hear and come deal with Jiang Fan.

Jiang Fan raised his hand, ready to slap him again.

Meanwhile, Chen Anlong, already agitated by Jiang Fan, heard the commotion and angrily threw open his office door. Glaring at Li Taiyong, he barked, “What’s all this noise? Don’t you know this is a work area?”

Earlier, Chen Anlong had only been cold, not confrontational, so Jiang Fan hadn’t said anything. Now, Chen Anlong was shouting at Li Taiyong, but since Jiang Fan was standing right next to him, he assumed the yelling was aimed at him.

He lowered his hand and, instead of hitting Li, turned on Chen Anlong and shot back, “Why are you shouting? You think all workers should just swallow your abuse? Well, I quit!” With that, he spun around and stormed down the stairs.

Jiang Fan’s belongings had already been moved to his rented room, except for two unworn uniforms still in the dormitory. Seething, he went to HR, pulled his badge from his chest, and tossed it onto Manager Liu’s desk. “Here’s my badge. My uniforms are in my dorm, unworn. You can fetch them yourselves.”

He was about to leave when Chen Anlong caught up, slinging an arm around him and gently explaining, “I was yelling at Vice President Li, not you—you misunderstood.”

Jiang Fan shook off his arm and said, “Misunderstood? I earn my living through my own labor, not by begging from anyone. Every day it’s this person being yelled at, that person being scolded. You really don’t see us mainland workers as people. You do these things, then pretend it’s all a misunderstanding. Spare me the excuses. I’ve worked less than a month and already got an advance of three thousand, but I’m still recovering from my injury. Count it as a full month’s work and let’s call it even. I have no handover to do, my badge is with HR, and I have no baggage on me. Do I need an exit pass?”

Last time, when Jiang Fan had stood up to Chen Anlong over his termination, many managers had heard about it, but no one had seen it firsthand. Hearing now that Jiang Fan was leaving, Manager Liu was secretly pleased, but when she saw Chen Anlong come down to persuade him, Jiang Fan’s refusal was so firm and unyielding that she couldn’t help but compare him to Gou Biao. Gou strutted above the workers but acted like a lapdog to Chen Anlong, selfish and petty in every way—a stark contrast to Jiang Fan’s style. She felt a mix of emotions, wishing both that Jiang Fan wouldn’t be so stubborn and could stay, but also that he would leave and spare her further trouble.

Chen Anlong tried again, putting his arm around Jiang Fan’s shoulders. “Calm down. I’ll have Vice President Li come down and apologize to you. How about that?”

“No need. Just talking to that bastard feels like it lowers my own character,” Jiang Fan said, brushing off Chen Anlong’s arm again and walking straight out of Dafa.

Back on the third floor, Chen Anlong kicked open Vice President Li’s office door and unleashed a furious tirade. His shouting was so loud that everyone working on the second floor could hear every word.

Jiang Fan returned to his rented room and lay down, cooling off for a while. He rapped himself on the head and muttered, “Sure, I vented my anger, but now I have to find another job. What a pigheaded thing to do.”

But things had already reached this point, and with his mood unsettled, Jiang Fan decided to take a nap before thinking about work.

But with so much on his mind, sleep wouldn’t come. Around noon, he got up to go downstairs for lunch, opened the door, and found Vice President Tang standing there, hand raised to knock.

He asked in surprise, “How did you know I lived here?”

Vice President Tang smiled and answered frankly, “A’Ping told me.”

“A’Ping? How did he know where I lived?”

Unfazed, Tang explained the whole story of how Chen Anlong had had A’Ping follow him the day he’d upset Wang Wenyu.

Jiang Fan, satisfied with the explanation, asked, “So, what brings you here?”

Vice President Tang took out a pack of 520s and offered him a cigarette. “It’s lunchtime. Of course I came to eat with you.”

Jiang Fan waved him off. “Those menthols are too mild for me. I can’t get used to them. Lunch is fine, but we’re splitting the bill.”

Tang laughed, “That works for me. As long as we’re eating together, it doesn’t matter where.”

Given Tang’s position, a street vendor wouldn’t be appropriate. Wang Wenyu had left him some pocket money, but he hadn’t taken it, so now he only had five yuan.

Worried that five yuan wouldn’t cover lunch, he hesitated, then said, “Let’s go to the dumpling shop. I forgot my money, but they’ll let me run a tab and my wife can pay it back tonight.”

Tang grinned, “Let’s go. I’ve always said, it’s the company that matters, not the setting. You pick the place.”

As they went downstairs, Jiang Fan noticed the fruit shop had just opened. He didn’t know Wang Wenyu had stopped by for dessert the night before—he only remembered the boss lady being extra friendly when he’d bought fruit yesterday. So he greeted her warmly, “Morning, Boss!”

Xiao Yuxin joked with a smile, “Your wife calls me Sister Xin, but you call me boss lady—makes you sound like an outsider!”

“When did she call you Sister Xin? I never heard of that.”

“Go ask your wife yourself.”

Seeing Vice President Tang beside him, Jiang Fan didn’t linger for small talk and replied, “Alright, alright—Sister Xin it is. Better?”