Chapter 103: No Days Off All Year Round?

Qian Weining approached Zhong Di with a cheerful smile. Compared to their last meeting, it was clear that Qian Weining’s energy and spirit had grown much stronger. Was he experiencing a new lease on life? He seemed like a different person altogether.

“Uncle Qian, we just came out today to fish with the family. I didn’t expect you to change so quickly,” Zhong Di explained, his surprise evident. How long had it been since their last encounter? Money was clearly at work here. With enough funds, things moved at lightning speed. The infrastructure in China was truly remarkable—once the money arrived, a few days was all it took to make you question reality.

“Haha, it’s all normal. This is nothing—just a bit of money can fix it. You all play for a while, and at noon, I’ll have my people prepare a meal for you,” Qian Weining offered.

Zhong Di pulled a wry smile. It was indeed “just a bit” of money—more like millions, judging by all the goods and construction. You couldn’t pull this off without spending a fortune.

“If Uncle Qian has food here, of course we’ll eat here. But let’s be clear: I insist on paying. Otherwise, I’d rather just go home and eat,” Zhong Di said as he glanced around. The place had its own charm; lunch here would be a treat.

“Alright, I’ll take your money. You’re too polite, you know. Do you really think your Uncle Qian needs your payment?” Qian Weining laughed.

“By the way, I have a project you might be interested in—a reforestation initiative. How about taking a technical consultant position at my company? You’d rarely need to show up, unless there’s an unsolvable issue,” he continued.

Qian Weining had clearly come specifically to see Zhong Di after hearing he’d arrived. Even if Zhong Di hadn’t visited recently, he’d have sought him out once the project was approved. He often visited Zhong Di’s orchard. One could judge a person’s skill by how they managed their orchard—the fruit-setting rate was something Qian Weining had never seen before. Not to mention those delicious vegetables. The tidy orchard and flawless fruit trees proved Zhong Di’s expertise.

After so many years, he could still recognize talent.

“I’ll pass on the official position. I like my freedom. But if you need help, Uncle Qian, I’ll be there,” Zhong Di replied.

“Alright, I won’t push you. I have a few friends waiting for me. You enjoy yourself here; I’ll go join them,” Qian Weining said, chatting a bit more before leaving. It was clear he’d come just for Zhong Di.

Zhong Di understood Qian Weining’s purpose—business resolved through casual conversation.

Once Qian Weining left, Zhong Di and his family got out their fishing rods and nets.

“Zhong Di, why is this big boss always eating, drinking, and playing? Shouldn’t rich people like him be working fourteen hours a day, never taking a break?” Di Chunhua asked, sticking close to her son.

“Mom, who told you that big bosses never take breaks?” Zhong Di was surprised. In his experience, wealthy people were always traveling and enjoying themselves, unless something critical came up that required their attention. The ones truly busy were the company executives and ordinary workers.

“Our factory’s boss said so! He said he used to work in the factory himself and now works year-round, no breaks. He told us that if we work hard, we could reach his level. There’s a young man in our factory who got interviewed by the boss and will be promoted to line leader at the end of the year,” Di Chunhua recalled.

(The so-called line leader is the person in charge of a production line. Depending on the line, the number of people varies.)

She spoke as she remembered, admiring the boss’s words. They were always encouraging, and after each speech, she felt excited and motivated for a long time, working hard and even taking overtime.

“Alright, Mom, don’t be brainwashed. That ‘year-round, no break’ stuff is just for you to hear. If they didn’t say that, would you work so hard to make money for the boss? Ask yourself—after all that effort and overtime, how much do you actually earn each month?” Zhong Di countered.

“It’s because our factory’s performance is bad, always losing money. The boss says we have to subsidize the factory every year, but he keeps it open so we can keep our jobs. He promised to raise our wages once the factory starts making money,” Di Chunhua replied firmly, believing her son’s skepticism didn’t apply.

“How many years has the factory been running badly? You’ve worked there for years! All those excuses are just so they don’t have to raise your wages, making you work yourself to the bone. Don’t feel grateful just because you get paid—it’s what you deserve for your labor,” Zhong Di said.

“Alright, Mom, let’s drop it. We’re out to have fun today. Later, I’ll teach you how to fish.”

Hearing her son’s words, Zhong Di couldn’t help but smile. The factory boss was truly skilled in motivational talk. All truly unprofitable businesses had already closed—no one kept them running for years. Even a listed company would crash after a few years of losses.

Don’t think making money means taking risks. Those cases are rare, and usually reckless. For example, taking on excessive debt or making oneself personally liable. Normally, if the company isn’t profitable, it just declares bankruptcy, and it’s not tied to personal assets.

After mulling over these thoughts, Zhong Di pushed them aside and started helping Shao Hong.

“Mom, this is the fishing rod, fishing line, bait,” he explained, demonstrating as he went.

His father had a knack for it, picking it up instantly. His sister managed to get the hang of casting the hook, but as for Shao Hong—better left unmentioned.

After a while, his mother finally managed to cast her hook into the reservoir and began fishing herself.

Today, they used the most ordinary bait. They brought some chicken too, but that was just for fun—the chicken didn’t really matter.

Perhaps because the fish pond had just been stocked with fingerlings, Zhong Di quickly started catching fish, reeling in several before the action slowed. The baited area gradually lost its effectiveness, and he caught only small fry—not a single big fish.

But Zhong Di didn’t mind; it was purely for entertainment, so there was no need to be fussy. In fact, catching lots of small fish was more satisfying.

“Mom, pull the hook, pull the hook, you’ve got a fish!” Zhong Di called out as he reeled in a catch, noticing his mother’s float dip suddenly—she’d caught something.

“Oh, what do I do?” Di Chunhua exclaimed. She’d never fished before, except for scooping fish as a child.

Seeing the line being pulled farther away, Zhong Di grabbed the rod and started controlling the fish.

He’d just tried connecting with a water plant in the reservoir, which responded to him. Now, a stream of instructions appeared in his mind.

From the moment he took the rod, he knew the fish wasn’t small but not overly big either.

Without much effort, Zhong Di pulled the fish out—a silver carp, the largest catch of the day so far.

When Di Chunhua held up the fish, she laughed with delight. Zhong Di smiled along with her.

It had been ages since his mother smiled. He was used to seeing her frowning every day. She worked tirelessly, took overtime, and had no basic entertainment, yet still had no money. So she worked even harder, but her wages never kept up with prices. In the old days, at least there was a sense of happiness, but now—

His ears were always filled with distorted messages about striving and working hard. But for whom? In the end, only those at the top of the pyramid truly benefited.