Chapter Forty-One: Zhou Meiniang

Nearly a week had passed since Guodong Shen was awarded the title of Model Worker.

His life, however, seemed to have changed very little.

The only real difference was that, within the factory, people now called him Director Shen instead of Little Shen. His salary, too, had leaped from eighty yuan to over two hundred per month—a considerable sum in these days. Yet, in Guodong Shen's eyes, even an annual income of just over two thousand was far too little. Not to mention just two thousand—were it twenty thousand, it would still be a pittance.

His ambitions reached far beyond such modest gains.

For Guodong Shen, the sole significance of remaining at the factory was to await that great upheaval. Beyond that, there was nothing to hold him. If all went well, he could earn at least tens of thousands. This was also why he had made friends in advance with Bald Brother and his crew—so that, when the time came for resources or manpower, Bald Brother could provide what he needed.

Guodong Shen now had his own private office.

At that moment, a sudden knock came at the door.

A woman entered, her voice timid as she called, "Director Shen!"

"Sister Zhou?"

Guodong Shen still addressed her as he had before.

Back when he had fallen on hard times, Sister Zhou had helped him more than once.

She herself was a woman whose fate had been far from kind.

Her full name was Meiniang Zhou, two years older than Guodong Shen, twenty-eight this year—an age when a woman was at the height of her beauty and maturity in every sense, her figure soft and ripe as a peach, exuding a gentle allure.

Such a woman would stir the heart of any man.

Of course, in these times, to be so beautiful was not always a blessing. Gossip could crush a person; names like "seductive fox" and worse clung to Meiniang Zhou, never ceasing. Even though she strictly observed the code of a married woman, rumors abounded. Her beauty aroused the envy of every woman around her.

Yet hers was a different kind of beauty from that of Yue Ru Liu.

Her name came from a heroine of Sui-Tang legend—her father, a lifelong fan of martial arts novels, had named his daughter after a famed beauty. Unexpectedly, Meiniang Zhou grew to rival the legendary beauty of her namesake, though her own heart was kind and gentle, unlike the ruthless historical figure.

"Director Shen..." Meiniang Zhou called again. Just as she was about to speak further, Guodong Shen cut her off, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Sister Zhou, there’s no need for this between us. Other than a raise, nothing has changed—I’m still the same person. You don’t have to be so formal. Just tell me what you need."

"I’d like to take some time off," Meiniang Zhou murmured, head bowed, as if holding back her emotions.

"Time off? You’ve already taken quite a few days lately. Has something happened?" Guodong Shen glanced at last month’s attendance—ten days absent, and even after returning, she asked for leave every few days. He couldn’t understand it, but if he could help, he certainly would. After all, Meiniang Zhou had supported him through many a hardship.

"It’s nothing. I just feel a bit tired and want to rest for a few days. I’ll be fine soon." Meiniang Zhou shook her head, offering no further explanation.

Since she was unwilling to speak, Guodong Shen didn’t press her. "Alright, Sister Zhou, go and get some rest. If anything happens, let me know. If I can help, I will."

His words brought a gentle warmth to Meiniang Zhou’s heart.

She had always felt that Guodong Shen was a good man. She held a special affection for him, as if he were the younger brother she had lost—she couldn’t help wanting to draw closer.

As he looked at Meiniang Zhou’s full, graceful figure, Guodong Shen felt his own thoughts wandering.

Meiniang Zhou had a husband—a man much like Guodong Shen had been: drinking, gambling, fighting, always demanding money from his wife, and resorting to violence when refused. Worse still, her husband had suffered a physical injury in a brawl years before, leaving him permanently impaired. He was, in short, a complete good-for-nothing, even worse than Guodong Shen had once been.

There was plenty of talk around the factory.

Some said Meiniang Zhou was insatiable, that with her husband’s condition she was always out seeking other men. Whatever others believed, Guodong Shen put no stock in such rumors.

He knew very well what kind of person Meiniang Zhou was. Perhaps she was still untouched. Her appearance might lead most to think her wanton, but her nature was, in fact, deeply conservative. Guodong Shen had once overheard Wang Chenliang offer her a hundred yuan for a night together—she refused, though she hadn’t eaten in two days.

If, in such desperate circumstances, she could make that choice, how could one doubt her character?

Guodong Shen knew well the sting of rumor.

From what he understood, Meiniang Zhou was clearly in some kind of trouble. Otherwise, she would never be taking leave so frequently; it was simply too unusual.

Still, Guodong Shen didn’t dwell on it. It was, after all, her own affair. If she came to him for help, he would offer it, but without her asking, he didn’t know how to intervene.

He had worries enough of his own.

He had recently made a bet with Junfeng Yuan: in just one month, he had to double the factory’s sales. If he succeeded, he could buy several acres of Junfeng Yuan’s wasteland for just a thousand yuan.

That land would be the heart of the city’s future.

Its proximity to the capital made it among the most valuable plots in the entire city—a place where every inch was worth its weight in gold, surrounded by burgeoning commercial development.

Even if his investment failed, or if unforeseen troubles arose, Guodong Shen would have a solid fallback. That land would be the key to his rise; he had to wrest it from Junfeng Yuan’s hands.

Besides, he and Junfeng Yuan had never been on good terms. Taking what belonged to his rival would cost Guodong Shen no sleep at all.

He knew, however, that doubling sales in such a short time would be no easy feat...