Chapter 107: Who Dares Touch Me

The two of them arrived at the bank.

In this era, there were few branches, and ordinary people, once they earned a bit of money, preferred to deposit it in the bank. As a result, every branch was packed with people, lines stretched long and far, and there were only two service windows. The tellers inside moved at a leisurely pace, unconcerned by the crowd outside, sitting comfortably and chatting amongst themselves.

Seeing this, Shen Guodong frowned. Jobs in government offices and state-owned enterprises were highly sought after, considered a solid iron rice bowl that guaranteed a worry-free life. Many people fought for such positions, knowing that entering this system would secure their livelihood. Yet these employees seemed to have forgotten their roots. Their sustenance came from the people; their salaries were paid by taxpayers, but when it came to serving the public, their attitude was anything but appropriate—indeed, it was downright poor.

The customers waiting outside were timid and cautious, afraid to offend such people. In many minds, these staff were untouchable; if you angered them, your affairs might not be handled, and that would be troublesome indeed.

“A branch this large, and not a single seat for the public!” Shen Guodong complained, clearly dissatisfied. These people had truly forgotten where they came from—if not for the masses, would they even have food to eat? How could they treat their benefactors so?

This was the norm among many government and state enterprise employees. In Xia Country, there was a saying that captured this perfectly: ‘It’s easy to meet the King of Hell, but the little devils are hard to deal with.’ That was precisely the case.

“There’s such a long line ahead. How long will we have to wait?” Zhou Meiniang said, helpless.

Shen Guodong replied, “No choice. We’ll just have to wait.”

And it wasn’t just the bank; this was the situation in many places. Those in charge didn’t care, and it was the common people who suffered. Something that could be handled in minutes ended up requiring endless running around, countless certificates and paperwork before it could be resolved. It wasted both time and energy.

Shen Guodong was fond of a saying by Ma Huayun, the founder of A Li in later years: “If the bank won’t change, then let’s change the bank.” It resonated because it spoke directly to the people’s hearts, winning their support.

By contrast, another tycoon, Ma Yunteng, had a less favorable reputation—his games were accused of harming young people, and he earned money amid widespread criticism.

After waiting for an hour,

Finally, it was Shen Guodong’s turn.

The counter window was exceptionally low, and the two of them had to lean over it.

“Comrade, I’d like to deposit money,” Shen Guodong said, at a loss for words but eager to get his business done quickly and leave.

“Wait a moment, I need to trim my nails,” replied the teller, who glanced at Shen Guodong and then slowly took out a nail clipper from a drawer, beginning to manicure her nails.

Seeing this, Shen Guodong’s anger rose. He’d waited over an hour, and she wasn’t even working—trimming her nails during work hours! If there were no customers, perhaps, but there was a line of people waiting. How could she behave like this?

He couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Comrade, this is working time. Every minute you waste could be spent helping a customer. When the time comes, will you stay and work overtime? The people in line outside have spent hours coming and going, and you’re wasting their time,” Shen Guodong said coldly.

His words echoed the feelings of everyone present.

“You’re so troublesome! Depositing a few yuan or a few dozen? If you were depositing hundreds or thousands, I’d take care of it right now,” the teller sneered, staring at Shen Guodong. “If you’re not depositing a large amount, you can wait.”

Shen Guodong frowned. This wasn’t about the amount of money—it was about attitude. Was this how taxpayers’ money was being treated? Was this their attitude toward the public?

“You talk too much. Are you going to do this or not? If not, get lost. Stop complaining; who do you think you are?” the teller barked.

“Who do you think you are, pretending here? Get out—now!” she continued. “Even if you stay here, we won’t serve you.”

Inside the window, a few others were chatting, all glaring at Shen Guodong, their faces full of disdain.

Pretending at the bank? Did he even want his business handled? Who did he think he was?

Shen Guodong was so angry he almost laughed. Was this their attitude?

“Today, I insist on depositing my money here. I want to see who’s really in charge. You, mere tellers, dare to be so arrogant! I refuse to believe there’s no law here,” he said, furious.

He had waited over an hour, wasted so much time, only to be met with this treatment. He was depositing tens of thousands—this was no small sum. Anyone would be displeased.

The tellers hadn’t expected Shen Guodong to be so firm. They had never encountered someone like him. Was he really determined to challenge them? If this escalated and word reached the manager, they would be in trouble.

For a moment, they didn’t know what to say.

“Security! This man is causing trouble—throw him out!” the nail-trimming woman shouted, her shrill voice like an angry hen.

A few security guards came forward, their eyes unfriendly as they looked at Shen Guodong.

“Sir, we don’t want to say much. Please leave, don’t make us escort you out. Don’t disrupt the business for others,” one of them said.

Shen Guodong only laughed coldly.

In this era, ten thousand yuan had the purchasing power of a million in later years. Banks were practical places—those with more money received better treatment, no doubt. Shen Guodong’s sixty thousand yuan was equivalent to six million in the future; no matter which branch, that would guarantee exceptional service.

He didn’t believe banks would feel no pressure to attract depositors—it was impossible.

“Today, I want to see who dares to touch me!”