He said, "The biggest hassle in putting together a bicycle is buying the parts. Once you actually start assembling it, there's not much technical skill involved. I'm still a child. If I buy the parts myself, put together a bike, and save a few dozen yuan, people will just think this kid has some ability. They won't bother taking issue with me. But you're different, Uncle Lin."
He paused before continuing, "You're an engineer at the Compressor Factory. Working with machinery is what you do all day. If you do this yourself, not only could you easily be branded a profiteer, but people might also say you're exploiting your professional position for personal gain. Some things don't weigh even four ounces until you put them on the scales. Once you do, though, even a thousand pounds won't cover it."
Zhou Cheng spoke seriously. He was not being alarmist.
After all, the criminal charge of speculation and profiteering would not be completely abolished until thirty years later.
In the original story, a few years after reform and opening up began, Lin Wufeng took private jobs providing technical guidance to township enterprises. Over a single receipt for three hundred yuan, someone anonymously reported him, branding him a "profiteer." He went from being the leading candidate for deputy factory director to being stripped of his position and reduced to an ordinary technician.
Assembling a bicycle now was not necessarily a serious matter.
Normally, no one might pursue it, but if someone brought it up at a critical moment, it would certainly give Lin Wufeng a bitter cup to drink.
After hearing this, Lin Wufeng's heart tightened, and cold sweat nearly broke out down his back.
He did not know what he would experience in the future, but he had already seen far too