Dong Dacheng forced himself out of the gatehouse, shuffling nervously toward Xiao Liang.

Others could pretend not to notice, but Dong sat at the gate every day. There was no way he could claim he didn’t recognize Xiao Liang—the man who had come and gone through these gates dozens of times over the past three months, and who had just been officially appointed deputy factory director today.

“Who is he?” Xiao Liang asked coldly, pointing at Zhou Bin.

“Zhou Bin… he’s Section Chief Zhang’s husband…” Dong answered in a low voice.

“I didn’t ask whose husband he is,” Xiao Liang cut him off sharply. “I asked whether he’s an employee of this factory.”

“No… he’s probably here to pick up Section Chief Zhang…” Dong muttered.

“If he’s not an employee, then as a visitor entering the factory, what procedures is he supposed to follow? And driving a motorcycle straight inside—what procedures does that require? Do we even have rules here, or can anyone just ride in like they own the place, revving their engine like it’s a public road? Since when did Nanting Lake Juice Factory become a highway? Are stray dogs free to wander in and piss wherever they like?”

His gaze locked onto Dong Dacheng as his voice turned harsh.

“I’m giving you ten minutes. If this man doesn’t get out of the factory grounds, then you pack up and get out instead.”

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Zhou Bin exploded. He wasn’t exactly a tyrant in Yunshe, but he’d never been humiliated like this—let alone compared to a stray dog. Fury surged up instantly. He pointed at Xiao Liang’s nose. “Do you even know who my father is?”

“If you don’t know who your father is, go home and ask your mother,” Xiao Liang replied coolly, his eyes fixed on him. “But I can tell you this—you won’t find your daddy here.”

He had been wondering how to establish authority in the factory. Now that Zhou Bin had practically delivered himself on a platter, there was no way he’d let the opportunity slip.

“You—what the hell did you say?!” Zhou Bin’s face twisted with rage. He kicked down the stand on his Suzuki and lunged forward, grabbing for Xiao Liang’s collar, ready to teach this insolent nobody a lesson.

Xiao Liang caught his wrist mid-motion, gripping it like an iron vise, and stared straight into his eyes.

“What? You think you can make a scene here?”

Zhou Bin struggled, but couldn’t break free. Xiao Liang didn’t slap him—mainly because he didn’t want to draw Zhou Jianqi into this.

Today, humiliating Zhou Bin was enough.

“Zhou Bin! Get out! Who told you to come here?” Zhang Feili’s voice rang out sharply from the third floor of the office building. Afraid her husband would lose control and escalate things, she hurried downstairs in high heels, grabbing him and trying to drag him away.

“Section Chief Zhang, it’s not the end of the workday yet. Return to your post,” Xiao Liang called out.

Then he pointed calmly at Zhou Bin.

“You’ve got ten minutes. If you’re not out of this factory by then, I’ll call Secretary Zhou Jianqi myself and ask whether he’d like to come down here personally and take away some idiot who barged into the factory on a motorcycle to cause trouble.”

“Fine. Fine,” Zhou Bin laughed in anger, teeth clenched.

This idiot clearly knew exactly who he was—and was even invoking his father’s name.

But aside from the fact that Xiao Liang’s grip made it obvious he couldn’t win in a fight, what really held him back was the possibility that this man would actually call Zhou Jianqi.

Forcing down his temper, Zhou Bin jabbed a finger at Xiao Liang’s face.

“I’ll remember your name.”

“Oh? You’re going to remember my name? Or did you already know I’m Xiao Liang?” Xiao Liang sneered. “Don’t tell me Secretary Zhou Jianqi personally sent you riding that beat-up Suzuki all the way to Nanting Village just to show off?”

“Hmph.” Zhou Bin shot him a cold glare, then swung back onto his motorcycle. He revved the engine hard and roared out of the factory.

Now that Xiao Liang had made it clear he knew Zhou Bin’s identity, Zhang Feili said nothing more. Face stiff with embarrassment, she turned and went back inside.

Xiao Liang watched the red Suzuki disappear.

In his previous life, he had never met Zhou Bin, but he knew the man’s story well enough. After marrying Zhang Feili, Zhou Bin mostly lived in the county seat with his mother, Liang Aizhen, who worked at the county government. There, he’d fallen in with a crowd of useless drinking buddies.

He resented Zhang Feili for restricting his indulgences, yet at the same time mocked her for lacking charm. Their marriage was miserable. Most of the time, Zhang Feili lived with her parents instead.

If things followed the same course, she wouldn’t decide to divorce him until after their daughter was born.

So why had Zhou Bin come all the way from the county today, riding over to pick her up?

Was he trying to patch things up?

Or was it that Zhou Jianqi thought Xiao Liang had been too quiet since arriving at the juice factory?

Looking at that Suzuki, Xiao Liang leaned toward a third possibility.

Yuan Tong was now secretary to Zhou Kangyuan, the county magistrate and deputy party secretary. Meanwhile, Zhou Bin’s mother, Liang Aizhen, had just been transferred to head the county government office—effectively Zhou Kangyuan’s chief steward. It was only natural that Zhou Bin and Yuan Tong would have grown close.

Whether Zhou Bin had first heard from his father that Xiao Liang had been reassigned to the factory, or Yuan Tong had vented to him about being publicly humiliated the night before, Zhou Bin’s appearance here pointed to one thing:

He had come to test Xiao Liang—and to give him a taste of trouble on Yuan Tong’s behalf.

Which was precisely why Xiao Liang showed no restraint.

If he had swallowed his anger today—let Zhou Bin swagger in, pick up Zhang Feili, then head back to dine with Zhou Jianqi and casually bring up the massive grudge between Yuan Tong and Xiao Liang—what kind of attitude would Zhou Jianqi take toward him afterward?

A shift in Zhou Jianqi’s stance at this point could easily ruin the crucial move Xiao Liang was about to make.

Of course, after being humiliated like this, would Zhou Bin run to his calculating, cold-tempered father to complain and get scolded in return?

Or would he storm back to the county, drown his anger in drink with his cronies, and start plotting revenge?

Xiao Liang had never met Zhou Bin in person during his two years in Yunshe, but he knew enough: Zhou Bin hated dealing with his father’s constant lectures. Zhou Jianqi himself had joked about it more than once at the township offices.

That was the greatest advantage of being reborn.

He understood the currents beneath the surface far better than anyone else—and that allowed him to make the right call, ensuring that his next, most critical move would land exactly as intended.