Carrying a Jurassic on me
Chapter 981 - 528: Chance Encounter

Chapter 981: Chapter 528: Chance Encounter

To say what job is most enviable these days, it’s the one with an "iron rice bowl."

Of course, even "iron rice bowls" have their hierarchies, and they also change over time. Take, for example, the big brothers among the workers—now many of them find their lives not so easy. The factory undergoes endless reforms, and while things keep changing, there’s less and less work to do. Even fools know if you don’t work, who would pay you?

Old Chang is just such an old worker whose life isn’t going as well. This old man had only three or four years left until retirement, and just at this point, the factory had to start layoffs. He got wind from the grapevine that his name was definitely on that "blacklist."

The reason was simple. It was said that the new leadership disliked how much "odd talk" Old Chang had—back in the day, the old factory often had this phenomenon, where old workers felt they were the masters of the factory. They believed they had a say in everything big and small happening in the factory, and would nag about things they didn’t like, airing their grievances and such.

Among these people, some genuinely were concerned about the development of the factory, while others weren’t so skilled. As the saying goes, they were content with "gan shang is tael," just getting by, living one day at a time.

Old Chang belonged to the former group; he was an old technician in the printing factory. Recently, under the guise of restructuring, the factory had laid off a number of people and was now looking to hire some young ones, claiming it wanted to infuse new blood.

Actually, aside from emotional attachment, Old Chang didn’t really care about being laid off. He wasn’t worried about making ends meet. Right when the layoff news broke out, a paper factory from another place had already contacted him, offering a salary so high that he himself thought the boss was joking. The other perks even made him feel like he was about to enter communism early.

What he was dissatisfied with was that the factory’s efficiency wasn’t great. They claimed they were replenishing new blood, but in reality, those new positions were selling for thousands—even tens of thousands—without consideration for education. Wasn’t this nonsense?

Feeling disgruntled, he had a habit of walking around with his hands clasped behind his back, looking at the passersby—having food means no panic. Some people think that with control over the "blacklist" of layoff slots, they hold power over life and death. For someone like Old Chang, that’s just ridiculous.

What’s the big deal, he could simply try his luck with that boss who always nods and scrapes when he speaks, hardly looking like a boss at all. After all, he was but a poor worker, with nothing much to his name except his skills.

That being said, he was actually quite vexed. Ultimately, he was reluctant to leave this factory—once vibrant, now seemingly in decline—even if the wages were decreasing.

His whole being radiated dissatisfaction, like wearing drenched clothes that had frozen over. Even the warm sun in the sky couldn’t melt the frost in his heart. And so, as he walked on, he glanced at the side of the road and couldn’t stay put anymore.

He then shouted at the traffic cop at the intersection, "Hey comrade, have you been drinking? Is this how you’re supposed to act? Drinking on the job, and on duty no less, that’s against the rules."

This was one of the reasons why Old Chang ended up on the "blacklist." Whatever he disapproved of, he would speak his mind. The worse he felt, the more he talked—and this he knew all too well, which is why he’d wander outside when irritated. It was better to speak about people and things outside than to offend everyone in the factory.

The on-duty traffic cop was startled and quickly explained, "Old sir, last night was the fifteenth, all of us worked overtime on duty. I was supposed to be off today, but after having some drinks with a friend at noon, a colleague had an accident. We really were short on people, so they asked me to fill in."

"That’s still no excuse," Old Chang argued. "Don’t think I don’t know your discipline. Even without rules, this isn’t right. No one should be drinking on the job. Find someone else to take over, or else I’m calling the evening paper’s hotline."

The young cop almost spit out blood upon hearing this, "Grandpa, I really didn’t drink much. It’s just that my face turns red at the slightest touch of alcohol, even if I’m just around the smell. Today, there’s really no one else at the station... If I’m lying, I’ll be your grandson, okay?"

"No, smooth talk won’t work on me," Old Chang said righteously.

This was the second reason why Old Chang ended up on the "blacklist." Not only did he speak his mind, but he was also stubbornly principled. Which leader would want subordinates like that? And what use was his excellent skill when there was hardly any work in the factory? No matter how skilled, he couldn’t use it anyhow.

The young cop really had no way to deal with such a person. He indeed violated regulations. However, the leadership knew about this special circumstance and had allowed him because they had confirmed he wasn’t drunk to the point of affecting his duty.

Everyone knew that the fifteenth of the first lunar month was when lanterns were lit and fireworks set off, but it was also the most stressful time for the city’s police force.

With fireworks filling the sky in this dry season, a single mishap could turn celebration into disaster. There had been several incidents caused by fireworks over the years. Still, a festival is a festival, our tradition, and one can’t just stop celebrating altogether because of past accidents, right?