By raising his internal bonus coefficient from 1 to 2, Xiao Liang wasn’t merely doubling his share—the actual cut would rise from roughly one-third to nearly half.

Truth be told, he didn’t particularly care about how much bonus he personally took.

His real aim was to get the juice factory back on its feet, build a team that could actually function, and secure a chunk of startup capital. Under normal circumstances, in 1994, thirty to forty thousand yuan would be enough for him to register a new company outside the factory and begin laying the groundwork for a health supplement venture.

When the time came, he could outsource production to the juice factory while the new company handled marketing and distribution, allowing him to legitimately keep the bulk of the profits within that separate entity.

But seeing Xu Lihuan, Wu Qiyan, Zhang Feili, and the others hesitate, clearly lacking confidence, Xiao Liang decided it was necessary to adjust the internal distribution this time—tighten their shares a bit—to prevent bigger disputes over profit-sharing when the new company eventually came into play.

As for the internal betting arrangement Xiao Liang proposed, Xu Lihuan and the others had no objections.

For Xu Xiaodong and Liu Weiwei, who had only just started working, the idea that completing the sales recovery target within two months could net them ten to twenty thousand yuan as a minimum bonus was beyond anything they had ever imagined. The others stood to earn anywhere from thirty to sixty thousand.

In 1994, the average annual income in rural Dongzhou was under one thousand yuan. The factory couldn’t even pay its regular workers their monthly wages of just over two hundred yuan.

If anything, they hoped Xiao Liang really could find distributors willing to front the money and take the stock.

Even if the final bonuses fell far short of what he was promising now, it would still be far better than failing outright—because deep down, none of them believed they could actually pull it off.

Xiao Liang told Xu Xiaodong to go out and have a restaurant prepare a few hot dishes to bring back for everyone. He then asked Xu Lihuan to take the lead with Zhang Feili and Liu Weiwei in drafting a preliminary inventory sales contract and an internal bonus distribution plan based on the overall restructuring proposal.

As for himself, he returned to his office to sort through his thoughts.

An hour later, Gu Peijun knocked and stepped inside with a grin.

“Still not taking a break? Come on, everyone’s starving.”

Xiao Liang gathered up the partially drafted workflow documents and followed Gu Peijun to the meeting room. There, he found the restaurant owner, Shen Qimin, personally delivering several hot dishes, plates and all, while Zhang Feili, Liu Weiwei, and Xu Xiaodong cleared space on the conference table to set everything out.

“Comrade Xiao, I had no idea that bastard Xiao Yujun was such a piece of work,” Shen Qimin said quickly, pulling out a cigarette and offering it with both hands. “Otherwise, I never would’ve just stood by while they got you drunk that day.”

His restaurant sat just across the road from the factory. Over the past few years, he’d cozied up to Xiao Yujun, making good money off hosting village officials and factory banquets. The night Xiao Liang had been plied with alcohol had taken place right there in his establishment.

Xiao Liang accepted the cigarette and said calmly, “How much for the dishes? I’ll settle it now. After we eat, we’ll let you know to come collect the plates—or you can leave someone downstairs to wait.”

“These dishes are nothing,” Shen Qimin hurried to reply. “I was actually hoping to invite you and Secretary Gu to the restaurant. I’ll just wait downstairs—I won’t interrupt your discussion.”

He didn’t understand the internal structure of the village committee or the factory, but he knew one thing: Xiao Liang, as the town’s representative stationed here, held real authority.

Right now, he was worried that if Xiao Liang refused to acknowledge him, his restaurant might lose all future business from the village and the factory. Worse, the thousands of yuan in unpaid bills Xiao Yujun had run up might never be recovered.

“Business is business. If you want to treat us, we’ll talk about it another time,” Xiao Liang said, pulling out his wallet and firmly pressing a fifty-yuan note into Shen Qimin’s hand.

Once Shen Qimin and his niece left, Xiao Liang called everyone to sit. But before they picked up their chopsticks, he glanced at the uneasy Xu Xiaodong.

“You knew this wasn’t appropriate,” Xiao Liang said evenly. “But you’re young. Shen Qimin pushed hard enough, and you couldn’t refuse. You figured even if it annoyed me, it wouldn’t be the end of the world—worst case, you’d just avoid him later. That about right? Liu Weiwei handled it better—both times she went to buy food, she deliberately avoided his place.”

Xu Xiaodong, barely a year into his first job, flushed bright red and jumped to his feet, stammering, “Manager Xiao, I—I…”

“Sit down,” Xiao Liang waved him off. “I’m not criticizing you. If I had a real problem with you, I wouldn’t even bring it up.”

He leaned back slightly, his tone steady.

“The people we’ll be dealing with from here on out—most of them are seasoned operators. Or worse—sticky, slippery types who’ll gum up anything they touch. You and Liu Weiwei are still new. When something feels off, you sense it, but you don’t know how to handle it. So you compromise, go along with their rhythm, thinking it’s harmless—without realizing you’re the one getting taken advantage of.”

He tapped the table lightly.

“Take this situation. Maybe you think Shen Qimin had nothing to do with me getting drunk that night. Maybe you guessed I wouldn’t hold a grudge. But why should you help him just because he asked? Or do you think your own value in this situation is worth nothing?”

He smirked faintly.

“If this were Section Chief Xu, Shen Qimin would’ve had to bring a few cartons of premium cigarettes, a couple bottles of good liquor, maybe host a few decent meals before getting even one or two catering orders from us. No way he’d just walk in like this. Right, Chief Xu?”

Xu Lihuan chuckled. “I wouldn’t think that far ahead. I’d just avoid him altogether. Manager Gu knows what I’m like.”

“Come on, Old Xu, don’t ruin my lesson,” Xiao Liang laughed. “I’m trying to teach them something.”

He looked around the table.

“When you’re dealing with clients or distributors, you need strategy. You need steps. You need to understand boundaries—and control them. That’s how you take ground, one position at a time.”

Zhang Feili caught Wu Qiyan glancing at her in surprise. She shot her a quick look back that said, *Does this guy really look like he’s only in his early twenties?* Liu Weiwei and Xu Xiaodong were only a year or two younger, yet in front of him, they seemed completely out of their depth.

At that moment, Zhang Feili noticed Liu Weiwei winking at her from across the table. She instinctively looked up—only to meet Xiao Liang’s gaze.

A flush instantly spread across her cheeks. She forced herself to look calm, lowering her head and lifting her bowl, pretending to consider which dish to try first.

Watching her, Xiao Liang couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

Zhou Bin—what kind of fool was that man? With such a beautiful wife at home, he let the relationship fall apart, only to chase after cheap flings in the city.

What kind of madness was that?