Chapter 069: Hello, Little Stock God, I Am Your Devoted Fan

On the road leading to Tangwan Town, a blue Land Rover equipped with a spotlight sped forward like a roaring beast, burning through vast amounts of fuel. Several sedans trailed behind, struggling to keep up with the Land Rover's pace.

At the wheel sat a flat-headed middle-aged man, a cigarette dangling from his lips, driving the gas-guzzler with a nonchalant ease. This was Ding Yan, supplier to the toy factory, now forty-eight years old. Lately, he had been troubled by thoughts of changing professions. After more than thirty years at sea, his mindset was deeply ingrained: when prey appeared, it was first come, first served; if there were competitors, fight it out. His reckless nature and volatile temper made life ashore especially hard for him.

So he sought out the Chen family, with whom he had some past dealings—after all, they had made a name for themselves on land.

“Boss, do you think if we help the Chen family this time, they’ll give us a solid tip for the future?” asked his scar-faced subordinate in the passenger seat.

Ding Yan shook his head, exhaling smoke through his nostrils and grumbling, “Who knows. If they keep stringing me along this time, I won’t work with them again.”

“Exactly. Those people are always playing games—one thing after another. If they want money, they should just say so. Why do they have to be so coy about giving us stock market tips? Makes me want to whack them with a spiked paddle!”

“Third, when we made our living at sea, there were only a handful of people coming and going. If we ran into a gang of little punks, we’d just join forces to fight them off.”

“But on land, there are millions more people than at sea.”

“There’s an old saying: ‘With a big enough forest, you get all kinds of birds. The world is slippery and people’s hearts are complicated.’”

The first half sounded familiar, but what was that second part? Never mind—if the boss said it, it must be brilliant.

Third quickly chimed in, “Boss, you’re amazing. In no time, you’ve become a scholar.”

Scholar, my foot, Ding Yan thought as he glanced over and flicked his cigarette butt out the window. Those two sayings had cost him money to learn, but it was worth it—his subordinates’ admiration for him only grew.

“Boss, when we get there, should we go in swinging or scare them a bit first? The Chen family said the leader this time is a kid not even twenty—you think he’s even grown up yet?”

“Damn it, Third, what kind of fetish is that? Stay away from me!” Ding Yan looked at him with disgust.

Third hurriedly explained, “Boss, I was just saying, no other meaning! Just want to know the plan.”

“We’ll scare them first. Our old tricks won’t work on land; if things go wrong, we’ll end up in jail.”

He’d already decided to settle on shore, so naturally, Ding Yan wanted to keep things as stable as possible. If he were looking for trouble, he wouldn’t bother coming back.

The convoy pressed on, engines roaring, drawing plenty of attention along the way.

...

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, it was the next day.

After yesterday’s incident, nothing else out of the ordinary had happened, leaving Zhang Tianfeng a bit puzzled—was Xu Kuangdao finished, or was he brewing a bigger scheme?

That morning, he visited the factory. Renovations were already more than halfway done, and more workers had arrived to help—thirteen in all, twelve of whom were management. The remaining worker was a frail young woman he’d seen before.

He asked around and learned her name was Zhong Xiaoyi. She came from a poor family; her parents were bedridden, her younger brother worked away from home but never sent any money back—in fact, he even asked Zhong Xiaoyi for money, and if she refused, her parents beat and scolded her.

Son preference was still the prevailing theme in some parts of the country, even in this era.

After hearing this, Zhang Tianfeng could only sigh and resolved to help this strong young woman however he could.

He reminded everyone to rest and handed out the day’s heat-relief pay before heading straight to Bo Le Employment Agency.

The troublemakers from yesterday were nowhere to be seen, probably because Xu Kuangdao had withdrawn his investment and they lost their motivation.

“Good morning, boss,” greeted Chen Jiaqi, who was wiping tables when Zhang Tianfeng entered.

“You’re here early. Have you eaten yet?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I thought there might be more people today, so I came in early.”

“Alright, I’ll go get breakfast. You keep busy.”

“No need, boss. I brought my own,” Chen Jiaqi replied, pulling out a dry bun and smiling sheepishly.

“I’m curious—your monthly salary is already higher than an ordinary worker’s, so why do you still scrimp and save?”

“I have to. My younger brother is still unemployed, so I have to support him.”

“Don’t tell me you let that little brat slip your mind. What’s he up to these days?”

The last time at the toy factory, when Xu Juncong and the others tried to force his hand, Wang Qi nearly acted out of desperation. If Chen Jialin hadn’t appeared, Zhang Tianfeng might have been hurt.

Afterwards, he offered Chen Jialin a job at his factory, but the kid refused, boldly claiming he wouldn’t accept charity. Not much education, but full of old sayings.

“I don’t know. He’s out early and back late, but at least he’s not hanging around with that gang anymore.”

“That’s good. Just needs a bit of guidance.”

Zhang Tianfeng nodded and strolled out, returning soon with two bags of breakfast. He handed one to Chen Jiaqi and sat down at the desk, opening his computer.

His first computer had been a bulky monitor, bought second-hand because he needed to look things up online and couldn’t keep going to internet cafes. Now, sitting at the desk, staring at the old system and black keyboard, Zhang Tianfeng felt transported back in time.

Tap, tap, tap—

He typed away, the familiar rhythm echoing in the quiet. Even the latest computers were slow to respond, but Zhang Tianfeng operated it one-handed while eating breakfast and browsing job seekers’ information.

“Boss, are you a genius?” Chen Jiaqi leaned over to ask.

“What makes you say that?”

“I heard from Sister Lan that you’re only eighteen, but you’ve already made over a million. In Harbor City, you stirred up all kinds of stories, and now you’re so skilled with computers.”

If experience from a previous life counts as talent... then yes, I’m a genius.

“You’ll get the hang of it with practice. Your typing speed is still slow—you need to work on that, it’ll be useful. I have high hopes for you.”

“Thank you, boss! I’ll work hard!”

Youngsters are so easy to motivate—dangle a dream and say a few kind words, and they’re fired up like they’ve had a shot of adrenaline.

Not a bad thing—harder working employees mean more profit.

Time slipped by, and more people trickled into the store. Qin Yuelan arrived second, eating breakfast while handling paperwork.

Hongmao and his crew showed up next, and as soon as they entered, he gathered his twenty-some subordinates for a meeting. Afterwards, they grabbed cleaning supplies and headed out to other shops.

With Yuanli Group’s collapse and withdrawal, the entire Tangwan human resources market had become Zhang Tianfeng’s hunting ground.

Yesterday afternoon, he had taken out 130,000 yuan and instructed Qin Yuelan to rent six key shops, decorating them in the same style as this one.

Zhang Tianfeng was determined to use Tangwan Town as a springboard to establish the Bo Le Group’s golden reputation!

Everyone was busy with their own tasks, and the atmosphere in the shop was harmonious.

Not long after, a sudden roar drew everyone’s attention.

The blue Land Rover pulled up in front of the shop. Ding Yan released the handbrake, holding a radio in his hands. “Third, you go. The stock market expert is about to start analyzing—I’ll stay put. Settle this quickly, and don’t make a scene.”

“Don’t worry, boss, I’m steady as they come.”

With that, Third jumped out, gripping a spiked paddle as he aimed it at Zhang Tianfeng. “You’re pretty slippery, aren’t you? Not at the factory, hiding out here instead.”

Zhang Tianfeng frowned and stood up, walking to the door. “Who are you?”

“Brave enough to show yourself—not like those cowards hiding behind their staff,” Third sneered. “I’m from Blue Sky Materials. Your toy factory still owes my boss 200,000 for materials. Did you forget?”

“Oh, so it’s you,” Zhang Tianfeng replied. “The number you left no longer works. I was just about to talk to you about working together.”

“No more working together. Pay up, now!”

“Why?”

“Why so many questions? I just don’t want to do business with you anymore, is that a problem?”

Third waved the paddle, but the motion made him dizzy, and he leaned on it for support.

Hongmao’s eyes narrowed as he whispered, “Boss, these guys are tough, straight off the sea. Be careful.”

After years at sea, they were used to the rocking waves; on land, they often felt dizzy at best, or staggered around like Jack Sparrow at worst—comical to behold.

Third hadn’t adapted well and still got dizzy with too much movement.

In the Land Rover, Ding Yan frowned as he watched. Third was getting more useless by the day—couldn’t even collect money properly. Where had the seaman’s crisp efficiency gone?

He waited until the stock market segment was on break, and now, seeing this, he was even more annoyed.

He tossed the radio aside, opened the door, and got out.

Just as he was about to start cursing, he caught sight of a familiar figure standing on the steps and froze.

“You little brat, why are you standing there like a stunned sunfish? Pay up! Can’t you understand plain language?”

Whack!

Ding Yan rushed over and gave Third a hard rap on the head.

Third winced, clutching his skull. “Boss, I didn’t do anything wrong! Why’d you hit me?”

“Shut up. Don’t talk.”

After a glare, Ding Yan put on a fawning smile. “Little Stock God, I’m your loyal fan!”

“I’ve been looking for you for ages—I never imagined you’d be hiding out here.”