Chapter 21 Earning a Thousand Yuan a Day

11 PM, the Fifth Workshop.

The coal in the stove was burning bright, and that wooden box was overturned on the table.

*Clatter—*

Banknotes were piled into a small mountain.

Sun Erga squatted on a chair, counting money while grinning foolishly.

The drool leaking from the corner of his mouth was about to drip onto the money.

"Six hundred eighty... seven hundred..."

Sun Erga suddenly looked up, his voice cracking:

"Brother Lin!"

"We collected seven hundred and twenty in deposits alone!"

"Seven hundred and twenty!"

Between the deposits and the cash for stock tonight, a total of 1,100 yuan had been recorded!

It was worth three years of work for an ordinary person!

In the corner, the tech geek Wang Yu pushed up his glasses, his gaze dazed and shocked.

He looked at the pile of money, and all the circuit diagrams in his head became a jumble.

He had never seen so much money in his life, let alone money earned so... "violently."

Only Wang Dapao was still silently wiping down the lathe, his gaze more affectionate than if he were looking at his wife.

"Big Sister Liu, keep the accounts well."

"You'll be in charge of safekeeping the money and reporting the accounts daily."

Lin Xi leaned back in his chair, twirling a fountain pen in his hand, his expression showing not a hint of emotion.

This was only the beginning.

He needed to broaden his horizons; this was just the first mob in the starter village.

...

6:30 AM, the women's washroom in the family quarters.

This place was an intelligence center more efficient than the base's confidential archives.

Throw a piece of news in here, and it didn't need radio waves.

Within ten minutes, it would spread through half the living area, having undergone at least three rounds of "artistic processing."

Liu Guihua squeezed in, carrying a chipped enamel washbasin.

She wasn't in a hurry to get water.

Instead, she rolled up both sleeves high, revealing a section of forearm that was unusually rosy.

Amidst the surrounding army of bulky cotton-padded jackets, this rosy skin was nothing short of blatant showing off.

"Oh, Sister Guihua, why are you wearing so little today?"

A coworker nearby hunched her shoulders, her breath visible in the cold air.

"It's over twenty degrees below zero outside; aren't you afraid of freezing?"

"Freeze? From what?"

Liu Guihua slapped her forehead in mock surprise, her acting perfectly natural.

"Oh no, oh no! I was in such a rush to leave that I forgot to put on my parka!"

As she turned the faucet, she humble-bragged:

"It's all because of that new stove at home. It makes the house feel like summer, so I completely forgot the season when I stepped out."

That one sentence instantly activated the radars of the seven or eight women nearby.

"A new stove? What kind of stove has that much power?"

Liu Guihua tapped her washbasin on the counter and lowered her voice, her tone mysterious:

"It's some high-tech thing Manager Lin came up with called 'red star · warm sun'."

"It doesn't use coal; it heats up just by plugging it in."

"Last night, my husband's chronic leg pain didn't even flare up."

"The kids even had to take off their cotton jackets to do their homework!"

"Plug it in? How much electricity does that use?"

"What's there to fear about electricity?" Liu Guihua rolled her eyes at her.

"Our compound has a flat rate for electricity! That warmth is basically for free!"

*Boom!*

Those words were like pouring a spoonful of water into boiling oil.

Free warmth? Taking advantage of the state? Who could resist that?

Before 8:00 AM, the rickety wooden door of the Service Center was nearly pounded to pieces.

Dozens of people clutched their money and coupons, not caring what kind of "high-tech" it was.

As long as they could get a bargain from the state, it was the best thing in the world.

...

In the Fifth Workshop, the atmosphere was a bit strange.

Exactly 8:00 AM.

Aside from the core members like Sun Erga and Wang Dapao...

...the remaining seven "old, weak, sick, and disabled" drifted in.

These people were the original crew of the Service Center, also known as the base's famous "Team of Slackers."

Some had hair as messy as a bird's nest, while others were munching on cold steamed buns.

Looking at the empty, dilapidated workshop, they all had looks of disdain on their faces.

"I say, Erga, were you tricked by someone?"

A middle-aged man with sharp features and a greasy cotton-padded jacket leaned against the doorway.

He was picking his teeth, his face carrying an air of roguishness.

"Why give up perfectly good repair work to come here and whistle for the Northwest wind?"

"Is this broken machine going to pop out babies or something?"

Zhao the Scabby was a veteran troublemaker at the Service Center.

His skill at slacking off was number one in the entire base, while his skill at working was dead last.

Lin Xi stood before that C620 lathe, his gaze coldly sweeping over this ragtag bunch.

He didn't waste words or preach.

To deal with people like this, there was only one way.

He reached into his coat and pulled out a thick stack of "Great Unity" bills.

"Slap!"

The money slammed onto the iron table, the sound dull yet melodious.

The rowdy crowd instantly fell silent.

Every eye was glued to the pile of money, unable to look away.

Their breathing became noticeably heavy.

[The money-slapping trope again! Just as satisfying as ever!]

[Look at Zhao the Scabby; he was acting like a big shot just now, but now his eyes are about to pop out. His face-changing speed rivals Sichuan Opera.]

"I don't care how you used to slack off."

Lin Xi's voice echoed through the empty workshop, cold as a blade.

"In my place, there is only one rule—"

"The more you work, the more you earn."

He picked up an aluminum alloy reflector cover that had just been spin-formed.

"Wang Dapao is in charge of the core spinning, and Wang Yu is in charge of the circuits. This is technical work, so they get the largest share."

"As for you—" Lin Xi pointed to a pile of parts nearby.

"Winding resistance wires, assembling casings, and spray painting."

"For every finished unit assembled, you get forty cents."

"Your group splits that forty cents. You'll be paid based on how many units you complete."

"Accounts will be settled at the end of the month, with no upper limit."

"Forty cents?!"

Zhao the Scabby's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

"With current wage levels, working yourself to death all day only earned you about eighty cents or a yuan."

"Forty cents for just one unit?"

"If one's hands were quick and they assembled dozens a day..."

"That would be three or four yuan a day?"

"A hundred yuan a month?!"

"Wouldn't that be a fortune?!"

"We'll do it! We definitely have to do it!"

Zhao the Scabby was the first to toss his toothpick and rush to the workbench.

"I'll have a problem with anyone who tries to stop me!"

Driven by massive profit...

...this bunch who usually couldn't be bothered to turn over in bed instantly transformed into perpetual motion machines.

The workshop was immediately filled with the clink-clank of hammering, bustling with activity.

Wang Dapao stood at the lathe, aluminum sheets rapidly turning into perfect parabolic surfaces in his hands.

Wang Yu was tucked in a corner, his hands moving so fast they were just a blur.

The assembly line had started moving.

However, in less than two hours, that initial enthusiasm soured.

It's easier to change rivers and mountains than a person's nature.

Zhao the Scabby held the unfinished resistance wire, but his eyes were darting around.

He one moment he was going to the bathroom, the next he was complaining about hand pain, moving as slow as a snail.

What was worse was that while no one was looking...

...he slipped several cut-off scraps of aluminum alloy into the inner pocket of his cotton jacket.

"Old Zhao, hurry up! Things are piling up in front!" the coworker responsible for assembly behind him said anxiously.

"What are you rushing me for?"

"Don't you know these resistance wires cut your hands?"

Zhao the Scabby glared.

"I'm a veteran worker; I care about quality. What do you know?"

The surrounding coworkers were angry but didn't dare speak up, and their movements involuntarily slowed down as well.

Everyone was looking at Lin Xi.

Thinking that this new manager was just for show—who would dare provoke such a seasoned slacker?

"Stop."

Lin Xi turned off the lathe's power.

He walked to the workbench, not even glancing at Zhao the Scabby, and simply jerked his chin toward Wang Dapao.

Without a word, Wang Dapao strode over.

A large hand clamped directly onto the back of Zhao the Scabby's neck and hoisted him up.

"Hey, hey! What are you doing!"

"I'm a veteran comrade! Are you trying to start a rebellion!" Zhao the Scabby flailed his limbs while suspended in mid-air.

"*Clatter—*"

Several scraps of aluminum alloy fell out of his cotton jacket and hit the concrete floor with a sharp, piercing sound.

The entire room fell deathly silent.