1998: Factory Director's Son

Xiao Fei was reborn and returned to 1998. His father was the director of the county textile factory. The factory is about to close down, and the workers have not been paid for half a year. My father rode his bicycle to the county government gate every day and squatted to wait for funding. He squatted for two months without earning a penny. Xiao Fei remembers it very clearly - three months later, the factory declared bankruptcy and liquidation. The day after my father signed the liquidation document, he jumped from the roof of the dormitory. Xiao Fei, who was reborn, had no system. He only has a memory of the next twenty years and a list full of death dates. Does the factory want to sell land to pay off debts? He memorized all the property appreciation trends in the county over the next ten years. Bank won't approve loan? He found the only person in the county who would become the listed owner in nine years. Are workers going to be laid off? He started contacting garment factories along the coast three months in advance and found a home for everyone. His father thought he was crazy. Everyone in the factory thought he was crazy. Until that evening in the summer of 1998, Xiao Fei stood at the gate of the factory and stopped the bulldozer coming to reclaim the land. He took out a crumpled piece of paper, which listed the names of seventy-two workers and the number of their family members—a total of 217 people. "The land can be sold," he said, "but buried under the land are the blueprints for a set of equipment. Once this set of equipment is built, the output value will triple in the first year. Do you want the money for a piece of land, or an iron lump that can lay golden eggs?" The bulldozer stalled. The old accountant from the factory office squeezed through the crowd and said something in Xiao Fei's ear: "Xiao Fei, that set of drawings - our factory doesn't have any drawings at all."