The Routine King Boss

Two weeks later.

"Ah, finally out of the hospital. No more smelling disinfectant. This stretch has been rough!"

Fang Bai walked out of the hospital entrance with a travel backpack slung over his shoulder, taking a deep breath.

He watched the endless tide of bicycles surging along the road, the "clang-clang" of rickshaws, the sparse motorcycles, and the occasional Santana or Fiat weaving through traffic.

At a roadside newsstand, magazines like Zhiyin and the Wencheng Morning Post were on display. The crowd mostly wore loose-fitting clothes, the dominant style of the era.

Small workshops dotted the streets and alleys, hawkers' cries rising and falling—the whole street brimmed with life...

This era felt both familiar and strange to him, leaving a faint sense of unreality.

He turned back to glance at the shabby hospital entrance, then looked down at the three middle fingers of his injured right hand.

Though the inflammation had subsided, they could only move with difficulty; the knuckles and fingertips wouldn't bend.

He desperately hoped to level up his Golden Finger soon, so these three fingers could recover completely.

Right now, he was wearing a brand-new set of clothes: blue jeans, a white T-shirt, and a denim jacket. In his pocket, he had 312.13 yuan.

Qin Shuyu had bought him this new outfit before she left the hospital, saying his old clothes were bloodstained and unwearable.

Before leaving the hospital, Fang Bai had changed into the new clothes and found three hundred-yuan bills in the pocket, along with a note: "Fang Bai, I'm heading back to school. Use this three hundred for now. Don't worry about me—our school still gives subsidies. Keep pushing forward! I'll write to you when I have time. Make sure you reply, or else... hmph!"

Besides the three hundred from Qin Shuyu, Fang Bai also had ten yuan his mother had given him.

After finishing the discharge procedures, his mother had gone back to her job as a janitor at Yongjia Middle School. Her monthly salary was only 50 yuan, below the average wage for workers in Wencheng.

His father worked the family farmland, mainly to cover the household's grain needs. The land had to pay a grain tax, and in his spare time, he took odd jobs—meager income, but it helped supplement the family a bit.

When Fang Bai worked as a shearer at the factory, his probationary monthly wage was 80 yuan, with room and board included. But he hadn't received a single cent of salary yet.

In 1990, wages weren't very high. The national average for salaried workers was only around a hundred or so yuan.

In reality, many people didn't even earn that average.

No matter the era, the word "average" was pretty much the same as "hype."

Even though his father-in-law's business was doing well enough to have entered the ranks of Ten Thousand Yuan Households, a few hundred yuan was still no small sum.

For most people, a hundred-yuan bill was a rare sight.

Besides that, the two new outfits Qin Shuyu had bought him probably cost a fair bit too.

This weighed heavily on Fang Bai. He knew Qin Shuyu likely hadn't kept much money for herself.

"What a fool."

After leaving the hospital, Fang Bai decided to head to the factory to retrieve his clothes, bedding, and other belongings.

These items weren't worth much, but his parents had bought them with hard-earned money—he couldn't just waste them.

Another thing: he needed to demand his unpaid wages and medical expenses from that despicable boss.

Based on his experience in his previous life, he hadn't gotten a single cent. Instead, the boss had ordered the security guards to throw him out the gate.

Even with decades of experience, Fang Bai wasn't confident he could talk the boss into paying up.

But now, he had a much better chance.

"Bastard, just wait."

Wencheng consisted of four municipal districts and five counties. Yongjia County was one of those five.

The city proper faced Yongjia County across the Oujiang River. The area north of the Oujiang was called "Oubei" and belonged to Yongjia County.

The hospital was in the city proper; the factory was in Oubei. The distance between them was a few kilometers.

Fang Bai didn't have a bicycle. A new one would cost over two hundred yuan, and a used one around a hundred. He wasn't about to spend money on that now.

The bus wasn't convenient, so he hailed a rickshaw on the roadside. He asked the fare—about two kilometers cost three mao, which wasn't cheap.

A little while later, he reached the riverbank.

He took a ferry across the river, which cost another mao.

Once in Oubei county town, he first found a barbershop to get a short, more mature-looking haircut.

While getting his hair cut, Fang Bai casually observed the simply decorated shop. The walls were plastered with posters of popular contemporary actresses—Jiang Min, some Yu, some Xun—along with a few in bikinis, looking sexy.

There were also a few girls in the shop, all around twenty years old, dressed rather "lightly."

The barbershop was partitioned with plywood into three rooms: the outermost for haircuts, the middle for washing, and the innermost—a small, hidden room.

With that clever layout, Fang Bai felt he might have walked into the wrong kind of place.

After the haircut, he paid and got ready to leave.

When Fang Bai pulled out his money from his pocket, the scantily clad female barber caught a glimpse of those three hundred-yuan bills. Her eyes instantly lit up green. She sized up his decent clothes and his 176-centimeter, lean, handsome frame, and immediately plastered a fawning smile on her face: "Handsome, want to relax a bit? It's cheap."

"Heh, got something urgent today. Another time."

Fang Bai paused, then followed her gaze as she pointed toward the innermost room's door. He instantly understood what she meant.

He also realized he'd carelessly flashed those big bills when pulling out his money.

Whoa, so she was after my money all along!

Not my face!

I forced a smile and quickly left the barbershop—no point sticking around.

At two in the afternoon, Fang Bai arrived at the factory where he used to work.

Jiangnan Province Hengli Valve Manufacturing Co., Ltd., owned by a man named Wang Hengli.

The factory covered over ten mu of land, with a two-story office building, a two-story dormitory, and two brick-and-concrete workshops. It employed nearly a hundred people and turned a profit of hundreds of thousands of yuan each year.

Back then, machinery factories had outdated equipment and processes, low production efficiency, and low product added value, so per capita output was pretty low. Last year, Wen City's total GDP was only ten billion yuan.

For a factory like Hengli Company, if things developed normally, the boss would be worth hundreds of millions in thirty years.

But Wang Hengli got tangled up in a mistress debt, took a hit, and his business plummeted.

Security at this kind of factory was a joke—as long as you didn't steal anything from the company, they didn't care.

The guard recognized him as a familiar face and didn't stop him. Fang Bai got in smoothly, went to the dormitory, and pulled out his key to unlock the door.

The cramped room was packed with six iron bunk beds, sleeping twelve people. It was a mess, reeking of shoe odor. He had no idea how anyone could sleep in there at night.

Fang Bai saw that his own bed no longer had his clothes or bedding—someone else's stuff was there instead—and his temper flared.

"Damn dorm manager!"

He'd been discharged two days earlier than in his past life, but he still couldn't escape the fate of having his stuff thrown out by the manager. In his previous life, he'd gotten into a fight with the guy, and afterward, his right hand injury got worse.

Damn it, this was just the bottom rung bullying the bottom rung!

Fang Bai didn't confront the dorm manager directly. His hand was still too hurt for a fight, or he'd really want to beat the guy up—win or lose, brawls were normal back then.

Since the guy was just a dog acting on his master's power, the best move was to let the dogs tear each other apart.

Walking toward Wang Hengli's office, Fang Bai quickly calmed his anger.

On the way, he ran into a casual acquaintance who shot him a pitying, curious glance at his right hand. Fang Bai was long used to that kind of look and attitude.

He reached the second floor and spotted a short, fat man around fifty years old talking loudly on a brick phone in the hallway outside the office, saying the battery was almost dead and he had to end the call.

Fang Bai forced a harmless smile and walked over. "Manager Wang, long time no see!"

Wang Hengli heard someone greet him from behind and turned around. He didn't recognize the young man at first, sizing him up. The guy was young, with a sunny smile and a backpack, and he felt like he'd seen him somewhere, but couldn't place it.

But his demeanor—natural and steady—was unusual. This kid wasn't ordinary. Maybe he was a salesman?

Seeing Fang Bai extend his left hand, Wang Hengli paused. Not the right?

Still, he quickly reached out his left hand to shake. "Hello!"

Fang Bai wasn't surprised Wang Hengli didn't recognize him. He'd only worked in the workshop for less than two months and barely interacted with the boss.

Plus, with his changed clothes and haircut, he'd had a "makeover." Even acquaintances wouldn't peg him right away.

But none of that mattered.

The moment their hands touched, Fang Bai grasped everything Wang Hengli had done in the past day, plus his current thoughts.

In the hospital, Fang Bai had thoroughly studied the Golden Finger's functions.

All it took was one handshake—no time limit, left or right hand didn't matter—to probe the other person's past day's information and know their current thoughts, as long as they were within ten meters of him.

If they stepped outside that range, he couldn't sense them, but once they came back, the connection resumed without needing another handshake.

[Who is this kid? I feel like I've seen him somewhere, but I can't remember...]

That was Wang Hengli's thought at the moment. Fang Bai also learned what he'd done over the past day.

Last night, Wang Hengli had gone to the love nest he bought for his mistress.

This morning at nine, he'd dragged his exhausted body out of that nest and told his wife he was on a business trip.

Fang Bai could see these scenes like a video recording—he even knew what Wang Hengli and his mistress had said to each other. He could fast-forward or slow it down.

And whatever information he wanted, it came automatically—no need to watch everything.

This Golden Finger was seriously twisted.

But Fang Bai liked it.

Wang Hengli was pretty scared of his wife, Chen Li, for two main reasons: first, she controlled most of the assets, and second, her father used to be in the system. Without his father-in-law's support, the company would never have reached its current scale.

Of course, his father-in-law had been retired for a few years, but he still had some connections.

What Wang Hengli didn't know was that the money he gave his mistress, Zhang Qian, was being used by her to support a pretty boy.

Two years later, Wang Hengli's affair would be caught red-handed by Chen Li. She'd hire thugs to beat up Zhang Qian, and then, still furious, throw sulfuric acid in her face, disfiguring her.

After being disfigured, the pretty boy would abandon Zhang Qian. In utter despair, she'd pay someone to cripple both Chen Li and the pretty boy. Wang Hengli would barely escape that disaster.

The pretty boy hadn't known Zhang Qian was being kept by someone at first, but when he realized he was stuck in a love triangle, he tried to take down Wang Hengli.

The whole mess would blow up so big it made the local news, becoming city-wide gossip. In the end, none of the four would end up well.

Both women were crazy, and the men were cowards—spineless.

If Wang Hengli weren't such a coward, collecting the debt from him would be a real pain.

Fang Bai had learned about this matter from the veteran workers and the newspapers.

In this life, what happened to those four people in the future had nothing to do with him. Fang Bai only wanted to get back what was his, and incidentally screw over the dorm supervisor and Wang Hengli.

Suddenly, Wang Hengli noticed the scars on the three middle fingers of Fang Bai's right hand, and it clicked. He frowned. "Fang Bai, what are you doing here?!"

"Haha, looks like Manager Wang has a good memory." Fang Bai smiled very naturally. "I thought important people tend to forget things."

Wang Hengli's face tightened. "What are you doing here? You're no longer an employee of my company!"

Fang Bai knew what the other was thinking. Directly asking this fat bastard for wages and compensation was impossible—if it were going to happen, it would have in the last life.

Reason with him?

Even a dog wouldn't buy it!

Useless!

As for direct threats?

The guy hadn't built his business to this scale by being a pushover.

Stalling, lawsuits, pestering, threatening to jump off a building...

Fang Bai had thought of many ways to collect the debt, but after mulling them over, none seemed reliable.

If debt collection were that easy, there wouldn't be so many deadbeats in later years.

Fang Bai needed to exploit the guy's "cowardly" nature, seize his key weakness, and ideally get him to pay up willingly.

It was a bit presumptuous, but worth a try.

Seeing Wang Hengli's fierce expression, Fang Bai cut straight to the chase. "Of course I'm here to help you. I wonder what would happen if your wife, Chen Li, found out about Zhang Qian?"

"What did you say?"

Wang Hengli's heart raced at the sudden mention of "Zhang Qian," his palms sweating as he stared at Fang Bai, curious how this guy knew about his private affairs.

He thought he'd been careful enough—the two of them never appeared together in public, precisely to avoid his wife finding out.

If his wife reported him for adultery during the marriage, he could end up leaving with nothing.

That was absolutely unacceptable to him. With money, he could always find another mistress.

"Manager Wang, saying that makes things boring. 156 Changxin Road."

"You followed me?"

"You're overthinking it. I just happened to run into you."

"What exactly do you want?"

Hearing that address, Wang Hengli's heart sank. It was the apartment he'd bought for his mistress.

Looking at Fang Bai's calm demeanor, it seemed like he had a handle on everything.

"Manager Wang, won't you invite me into your office for a sit?"

"Fine."

Wang Hengli said coldly, closing the door behind him to keep passing employees from overhearing, and sat across from Fang Bai with a sour expression.

Fang Bai sat opposite him, composed, and said flatly, "Manager Wang, I really can't figure it out. You told Zhang Qian about your tax evasion!

But you didn't know she's been using your money to keep a pretty boy!

With a woman and a pretty boy holding leverage over you, what are you planning to do?"

What Fang Bai said was a lot for Wang Hengli to process.

Zhang Qian was using his money to keep a pretty boy?!

The pretty boy was planning to screw him over?

He had indeed committed serious tax evasion and had bragged about it to Zhang Qian. He pressed urgently:

"How do you know?"

"Don't you find it ridiculous? You did it yourself, and you know who you told. Did you think I was hiding under your bed eavesdropping? Manager Wang, get this straight—I'm here to help you! If it weren't for the favor of you letting me into the factory back then, I couldn't care less what happens!"

Hearing this, Wang Hengli was pretty sure Zhang Qian had leaked it. Probably through that pretty boy, who then passed it on to others.

Otherwise, how would Fang Bai know?

Thinking back to Zhang Qian's recent attitude toward him—too perfunctory, something felt off. With Fang Bai's reminder, it clicked.

Damn!

What kind of woman was he keeping? She was even keeping a pretty boy!

Still, he had some doubts.

Fang Bai, sensing his confusion, pressed on. "Don't ask how I know about that mess of yours."

"I'm not here to mess with you. Just send someone to look into Zhang Qian, and you'll see."

"Don't kid yourself into thinking your father-in-law, who's been retired for years, can still back you up. If someone really wants to take you down, they'll have dug up everything about you and your background."

"And with your father-in-law being just a deputy county-level official, and retired at that, he's nothing to those people over in Wen City."

"Think it over yourself—does what I'm saying make sense or not?"

Wang Hengli met Fang Bai's sharp gaze and oppressive presence. Every syllable he spoke carried a tension like a razor-sharp blade, slicing through the stagnant air and shaking his very soul.

He suddenly realized that Fang Bai knew far too many of his secrets, and likely quite a few others did too.

If his wife found out about his mistress, it would be over.

As for tax evasion, if it got reported, the losses would be devastating.

These were the things Wang Hengli dreaded most!

He looked at Fang Bai's eyes again—they were no different from a desperado's. He knew all too well that men like that fought without caring if they lived or died.

If he wasn't careful, he'd drag himself down with it. Besides, the guy said he was here to help, so he probably wasn't out to harm him.

Damn it.

The more Wang Hengli thought about it, the angrier he got. He wanted to go confront Zhang Qian right then and there.

Fang Bai couldn't help but smirk. "What, you want to go confront Zhang Qian now? You're really not seeing the situation clearly!"

Wang Hengli froze for a moment, then sat back down. He realized his anger had clouded his judgment, and Fang Bai's words had snapped him back to his senses.

Fang Bai had told him about Zhang Qian keeping a lover and planning to blackmail him—he should be thanking him for that.

He looked at Fang Bai again, and this time he seemed a lot more approachable.

"Then what do you suggest?"

Though Wang Hengli was furious and uneasy, he knew that getting worked up wouldn't help anything now.