The next morning.
Having rushed over early in the morning, Ji Jue drove to the factory grounds. After making a round, he heard a small electric scooter heading into the compound. The balding middle-aged man riding it looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes—he clearly had not slept well all night.
"Yan Craftsman, you're here?"
Ji Jue waved at him and smiled. "How's your thinking gone? I've already spoken with them. The compensation can go up to—"
Yan Jian cut him off. "I want to stay and give it a try first."
Ji Jue froze for a moment, then smiled and nodded.
"Then stay. Do you have any conditions?" Ji Jue told him, "Everything's negotiable. Either way, whether you leave or stay, we'll sign a new contract. Your seniority will be retained, so don't worry."
"As for conditions, we can talk about them later."
Yan Jian sighed. Looking at Ji Jue's calm expression, his own face grew increasingly grave, with none of the joy or relief one might expect.
Rather than the lofty ambition of starting over, he seemed more numb and calm, as though he had accepted reality—things had come to this, so he might as well just wing it for now.
It was already terminal. At worst, he would die.
Giving it another go counted as a dying struggle. At worst, he could just crawl back into the pit and stay there. What else could happen? Bankruptcy? That would be great. He would be free again and could start over.
At the time, He and the old factory director had built this place from the ground up. He could not say every brick and tile had been paid for by him, but he had at least grown attached to it.
After those high-spirited years, the old factory