Chapter Fifty-Three: The Decision Rendered

Zhang Dehua and Master Qin would never believe a word of his nonsense—how could Feng Tao possibly be the kind to just let things slide? If that kid didn’t stir up some trouble, the sun might as well rise in the west. Besides, everyone had seen how Cui Yue had behaved these past few days; he was certainly not the sort to go looking for a fight. This whole mess was most likely tied to Feng Tao one way or another.

After some discussion, Zhang Dehua and Master Qin decided to suspend both men from work for three days, require written statements of reflection, and dock half of their performance pay for the month. After all, the two of them had brawled right in the workshop, creating a terribly negative impact. In order not to escalate the situation, they wouldn’t report it to the whole factory or let it affect their assessment scores.

Faced with this result, Cui Yue was angry but had nothing to say. Even if Feng Tao had provoked him, he himself had fought in public, causing quite the stir in the workshop.

Feng Tao, on the other hand, looked utterly unconcerned when he heard the decision, as if the matter barely warranted his attention. With so many debts already, what was one more? This sort of punishment was little more than a tickle. Besides, his father was deputy director of the factory—no matter what happened, someone would cover for him.

Leaving the workshop supervisor’s office, Feng Tao sauntered out, whistling like a street thug. He sneered, “Well, little security guard, who are you pulling that long face for?”

Cui Yue really didn’t want to waste words on this shameless lout, but Feng Tao just couldn’t keep from running his mouth.

“Crying? I’m crying tears of joy, believe it or not,” Cui Yue shot back.

Feng Tao’s face darkened and he snorted coldly. “Cui Yue, don’t think this is over. Believe it or not, I’ll see to it you can’t stay in production. You’ll be run out of here in no time.”

Cui Yue wasn’t rattled. He replied coolly, “Don’t trouble yourself on my account. I’ll stay wherever I please. Whatever tricks you’ve got up your sleeve, bring them on—though, to be fair, sneaky moves suit sneaky people.”

That last barb was clear enough: only underhanded people resort to such tactics.

Without another glance, Cui Yue strode off.

Feng Tao stared after him with a venomous look. “Just you wait, Cui Yue. I won’t let you off easy. Sooner or later, I’ll stomp you into the ground.”

Ever since their feud began, the grudge between Cui Yue and Feng Tao had only grown deeper. It was no longer simply about Yang Liu; both men were too stubborn to back down.

Before long, Cui Yue appeared at the factory gate, wobbling along on his old Forever-brand bicycle. Suddenly, a dark figure leapt onto his back seat, grabbing him tightly around the waist.

Startled, Cui Yue slammed on the brakes and planted his feet on the ground. “Who’s there? Get off, now!”

A shrill, syrupy voice came from behind, obviously a man faking a woman’s tone. “Brother Cui, I won’t! I just want to hold you. I’m your dear Yang Liu!”

“Yang Liu, my foot…” Cui Yue shuddered with disgust, his skin crawling. He turned to see the lecherous face of Zhang Hao, grinning coyly and putting on airs.

If Yang Liu really looked like that, he might as well give up on life, Cui Yue thought, stomach turning.

“Get lost! Off, now. Stop fooling around.”

“Oh, come on! Are you really so heartless to your dear Yang Liu?”

Cui Yue jerked the handlebars, trying to shake Zhang Hao off. “Keep it up and I’ll toss you to the curb.”

At last, Zhang Hao got off with a sheepish laugh, grabbing Cui Yue’s arm with sudden seriousness. “So, you and Feng Tao actually fought in the workshop?”

“Who told you that?”

“Who didn’t? It’s all over the place. You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that. Aren’t you afraid of getting burned? Lucky for you, the punishment wasn’t too severe, and the factory let it slide with just an internal notice.”

“If I were afraid, I wouldn’t be Cui Yue. Don’t worry about me. I refuse to let him get the better of me.”

Zhang Hao could only sigh. He knew better than to argue—nothing could sway this stubborn mule.

Cui Yue’s mood was already sour; he turned his bike to head home.

“Hey, I’m not finished!” Zhang Hao jumped in front of the bike. “What’s the rush?”

“Out with it. I’ve things to do.”

“Oh, come off it. What errands? This afternoon, let’s go to that new video hall at Fen Road with Da Zhuang. I heard they’ve got a batch of new films in.”

Cui Yue was in no mood to go, but Zhang Hao was relentless, pestering him until he gave in.

On second thought, Cui Yue realized it was better than going home—if he ran into Cui Yuanjun, he’d be in for another long lecture, and likely a beating to go with it. Better to go out and blow off some steam with his friends.

In Workshop Two, the machines roared.

Sister Gao burst in, fanning herself with her hat. She called out to Widow Chen, “Goodness, this heat is enough to kill a person! Hey, Chen, you shameless flirt—your red underwear’s showing!”

Widow Chen shot her a look, hiked up her pants, and retorted, “Trust you to notice. What would you know? No wonder your old man says you’re no fun.”

“Ha! Aren’t you embarrassed? At your age, don’t you have any shame? By the way, did you hear? There’s been more trouble in Workshop One.”

Widow Chen shook her head. “You’re the one with all the inside information. How would I know? Out with it—what happened?”

Sister Gao cleared her throat theatrically. “In Workshop One, the new guy on rotation—Cui Yue, you know, the one in the security booth at the gate—he got in a brawl with that troublemaker Feng Tao. The verdict’s already out.”

As she spoke, Sister Gao’s gaze darted, not-so-subtly, toward Yang Liu at the next workstation. Though she appeared to be talking to Widow Chen, the words seemed aimed at Yang Liu as much as anyone.

“Really? That young Cui seems like a decent kid—handsome, too. That Feng brat can’t go a single day without causing trouble.”

Widow Chen pictured Cui Yue and nodded thoughtfully.

“Exactly.”

As they chatted, Yang Liu’s face suddenly went pale, all color draining away. She looked anxious, quickly stopped her machine, tossed her sleeves aside, and hurried out without so much as a word.

Sister Gao and Widow Chen watched her retreating figure, exchanging knowing glances and laughing quietly. They understood perfectly well.