“If no one has any major objections to the inventory sales contracting plan,” Gu Peijun said, “then Manager Xiao will take the lead in drafting the detailed agreement. I still need to meet with the other village committee members and confirm whether the agreement should be officially stamped and signed by them.”

“Go ahead and handle that,” Xiao Liang said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll probably stay in town tonight anyway.”

The last Route 9 bus left Nanting Village at 7:30 p.m. for the city, and Xiao Liang already knew he wouldn’t be catching it.

After Gu Peijun left to relay the township’s decision to the remaining committee members, Xiao Liang called everyone back to the table and continued the meeting. He singled someone out immediately.

“Old Xu, why don’t you start? The general plan is settled, but how this makeshift team of ours operates—that’s something everyone needs to speak up about.”

Among the nine gathered, all core personnel of the factory, there were clear differences in standing. Xu Lihuan, in his early thirties, with over a decade at the factory and in charge of production, was unquestionably the most respected.

He had been trained under Zhou Haiming, the previous Party branch secretary before last, and had clashed frequently with Xiao Yujun over the past few years. Yet despite the pressure and marginalization, no one could replace him in workshop management.

He had also stayed, unwilling to watch the factory collapse under mismanagement.

With Xiao Yujun and the two deputy directors implicated, if the factory held an open election, Xu Lihuan would have had a far better shot than Gu Peijun at taking charge.

He wasn’t much to look at—short, dark-skinned, with a sharp chin—but his gaze was steady and incisive. Earlier that afternoon, while Xiao Liang and Gu Peijun were called away to the township, it had been Xu Lihuan who steadied the group, and most of the discussion had revolved around his views.

Now that Xiao Liang called on him, Xu wasn’t sure if it was deliberate or coincidence. He flipped open his notebook and began:

“To be honest, hitting the reward target is going to be extremely difficult. I don’t see much hope. Last year, our total sales were only about ten million. Now it’s not just about selling sixty or seventy thousand cases—or bringing in three million in payments within two months. Our entire market network has been cut off. We have to start from scratch—find new distributors, convince them to take our products, rebuild marketing efforts, make sure goods placed with distributors actually move down to retail points and reach consumers. That process alone takes more than a month or two to establish. And even after products sell, payments from distributors could take who knows how long.”

Once Xu Lihuan opened up, the others followed.

Wu Qiyan added, “There’s another key issue—we’ve barely got any money left in the accounts. We can’t fund proper marketing. If it’s just the few of us going out and shouting ourselves hoarse, what difference will it make? Of course, things are already this bad. There’s no choice but to fight it out. But I think we shouldn’t even think about the bonuses right now. We should just do everything we can, focus on getting cash back first. Even if, after two months, we only recover three or five hundred thousand—maybe six hundred thousand—it might be enough to keep the factory alive. As long as we don’t give up, the market can be rebuilt step by step. Give it half a year, and we might still turn things around…”

Their assessment was close to Gu Peijun’s, and Xiao Liang wasn’t surprised.

It showed they understood operations—not just production, but even sales, which most of them had never handled directly.

More importantly, none of them believed they’d actually earn the bonus—yet they were still willing to fight for the factory’s survival.

That alone exceeded Xiao Liang’s expectations.

Seeing no one else eager to speak, Xiao Liang lit a cigarette and smiled.

“Looks like none of you have much faith in me. I’m submitting my unpaid leave application to the township tomorrow—do you have any idea what I’m risking?”

No one responded.

He chuckled. “I graduated with a bachelor’s degree and entered public service. Even without a formal position in Yun She, I started at the mid-level cadre track. In another half month, I’ll have completed two years—enough to qualify for promotion. It’s not guaranteed, sure, but with some effort, it’s within reach. And after everything I’ve been through—framed like that—if the township still doesn’t assign me a position, I swear I’d tear Wang Xingmin’s office apart. You believe me?”

A few exchanged glances, unsure.

“By applying for unpaid leave now,” Xiao Liang went on, “I’m giving up that opportunity entirely. Now do you understand what I’m sacrificing?”

Only Xu Lihuan had a clear sense of what that meant. After a brief pause, he explained, “If Director Xiao didn’t come here, he might even have had a shot at replacing Du Xuebing.”

Xiao Liang waved it off with a smile. “I’m not telling you this to play the victim. I’m telling you this because we *have* to hit that reward target. Yes, it’s difficult—but this isn’t a communal pot where everyone gets the same share. In business, those who contribute more should earn more. If there’s no challenge, there’s no justification for the reward. Only by setting a tough target can we take that money with a clear conscience when we succeed.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“And within our team, it’s the same—no equal shares. Effort determines reward.”

“I originally drafted an internal coefficient system,” he continued. “Using myself as the baseline, Liu Weiwei and Xu Xiaodong—least experienced—get 0.1. Zhang Feili gets 0.2. Old Xu gets 0.3. The rest fall between 0.2 and 0.3. It roughly reflects each person’s capability and responsibility.”

He paused, then smiled faintly.

“But with how little confidence you all have in me… it’s hard to build morale. Seems like we need a wager system instead.”

The room fell silent as everyone mentally calculated what they might earn under the original distribution if the target was met.

Xiao Liang didn’t wait.

“Here’s the deal. Two months. I lead the team to hit the sales recovery target. If we succeed, my coefficient doubles—from 1 to 2.”

He let that sink in.

“But if we fail to meet the target through normal means, I’ll personally find backing to absorb the inventory and guarantee that all nine of you receive your full bonus according to your coefficients. As for me—I won’t take a single cent.”

He looked around the room.

“Even at the lowest coefficient, Liu Weiwei and Xu Xiaodong would still walk away with ten to twenty thousand yuan.”