At this moment.
In Great Xia.
On the outskirts of a certain city.
At a state-owned steel mill.
The workers surrounded the factory director in his office.
"Director, we can't go bankrupt. Our factory can still be saved."
An old worker placed a funeral wreath at the factory gates. "The factory is dead."
The factory director hid in his office and refused to come out.
The era of the market economy had arrived. Everyone had to rely on themselves.
There were no more job assignments, no more centralized allocations. They had to market their own products and procure their own supplies.
In short, everything was difficult...
Four huge characters hung above the factory gates.
The factory had gone bankrupt, and that was only the beginning.
At a hospital somewhere.
Inside a ward that never saw the sun.
A group of villagers cried around an old man:
"Village Chief, you can't die."
"Village Chief, you can't die! You worked so hard, leading all of us to work ourselves to the bone, work honestly and steadily. Our village finally managed to eat our fill—how can you leave us now?"
"Yeah, Heaven is far too unfair."
"Village Chief, you're only fifty-two."
"Good people never live long, while scourges live for a hundred years."
"Exactly. That old scourge at the west end of the village is eighty-five and still full of energy. Every day, he plays Mahjong, curses people, beats his sons, and beats his daughters-in-law."
The village chief slowly opened his eyes and said weakly, "The few mu of orchards at the east end of the village should all be cut down this year and replanted with apples."
"I think city folks like apples."
"Also, change the chive fields at the west end into garlic. Next year, you'll be ruthless."
"Don't waste