Chapter 27: Better to Worship Me Than the Gods

This only made Wei Dong’s feelings toward Director Shi even more complicated.

In his previous life, he had never had any direct interaction with Shi Linyan; they had hardly spoken a word. But with this man, he was all too familiar. He wrapped a pack of Red Pagoda Mountain cigarettes in newspaper, tucked it into his open coat, and went to visit the cadre building behind the compound.

The young female teacher quickly came to open the door, scrutinizing Wei Dong’s appearance, wondering why he hadn’t bothered to tidy himself up. She silently glared and pursed her lips, clearly wanting to scold him.

Wei Dong couldn’t be bothered with this foolish woman and nodded directly to Shi Qingjiang, who was watching from inside. “Hello, sir. I was just thinking of coming by to thank you for your care.”

Even as he spoke, he was surprised at himself. In his previous life, he’d grown old without ever mastering the art of conversation, spending most occasions in silence. He had been lively and outgoing when he graduated high school, but never to this extent. Perhaps these past few days of handing out cigarettes and chatting with people had made him more adept at speaking.

Anyway, having become a millionaire after a few deals, his confidence had grown, and his words flowed more easily.

Shi Qingjiang, wearing a deep blue Zhongshan suit and a military overcoat that made him look a bit bulky, was also surprised. He gestured inside with the cigarette, “Xiao Rang? Come in and sit. Last time I came to thank you, I only met your parents—they said you had gone to visit relatives.”

Wei Dong followed him in, with Shi Linyan clearly wanting to tag along.

Both men were equally annoyed. Her father frowned, “Shouldn’t you be making tea?”

Wei Dong waited for her to turn away before taking out the cigarettes and placing them on the side. “With the New Year approaching, I wanted to thank you for your past care and wish you success in your work and good health.”

For forty years, regardless of how disability had ruined a life, Old Shi had provided Wei Dong with shelter and stability for most of his days. There are indeed remarkable people who, despite their disabilities, achieve greatness, but the vast majority of disabled people live far bleaker lives than Wei Dong.

So this farewell and thanks was something he had to give.

But in Shi Qingjiang’s eyes, there must be another meaning. It had only been two months; what care was he talking about? Counting the incident where someone was saved, it wasn’t clear who should thank whom. And after two months as a temporary worker, the only income was enough for these cigarettes. Willing to spend so much must mean he had an ulterior motive.

His expression grew serious, “What do you mean by this?”

Truth be told, Wei Dong had never given gifts before; he didn’t smoke and had no need to curry favor. He’d spent decades in the guard room, indifferent to the world, and only recently tried offering cigarettes and meals. He’d even hesitated over whether to bring cured meat or a red envelope to the doctor.

In short, he knew nothing about the usual tricks in official circles. He simply wanted to express his feelings, “Nothing in particular. I’m not originally from Shangzhou, so it’s not quite right for my father to be a temp worker in the tax compound…”

Before he could finish saying that his family was preparing to leave Shangzhou, Shi Linyan’s mother entered, apron tied and spatula in hand, “What, you want a permanent position?! You want your mother to get one in the cafeteria, too, right? And you—what, you want to be our son-in-law and move in? Satisfied now?”

Shi Linyan’s face flushed as she reached to pull her mother’s arm, only to be shrugged off.

Wei Dong was utterly speechless. He held no grudge against Old Shi, but the old shrew was simply intolerable.

She could call on the disabled to move things, make coal bricks, clean, and for decades loudly proclaimed that the Shi family knew how to repay kindness, always building their own reputation while parading the disabled for everyone to see.

How could anyone not feel uncomfortable?

If not for the two disabled family members having nowhere else to go, Wei Dong would never have endured forty years.

He didn’t argue. He had originally intended to hint to Old Shi to be careful not to let his wife’s habit of accepting gifts—including from a prospective son-in-law—trip him up, especially now that he was about to take a post at the municipal committee, making him an easy target for criticism.

But what was the point of warning him now? Wei Dong simply shook his head and stood up. “I’ll go and take my father away now. Thank you for your care, goodbye.”

The old shrew wouldn’t let up, “What! Planning to run just because you got called out? Country bumpkins dreaming of swan meat, pretending to learn foreign languages—who doesn’t see through your schemes! Trying to leap from the farm to the city, hoping to suck the life out of every opportunity!”

Wei Dong couldn’t be bothered to argue and simply gestured twice at Shi Linyan from afar, as if to say, ‘See, see—this is the humiliation you brought upon me!’ Luckily, he had a thick skin.

His gesture only provoked another round of the old shrew’s furious tirade.

The female teacher’s face was almost bleeding with embarrassment—probably the first time in her life she realized how mean her mother could be.

Wei Dong was not surprised at all that she would become like this in old age.

Old Shi said nothing, just as he hadn’t for forty years.

So Wei Dong walked out the door, head held high, enduring the tidal wave of humiliation behind him.

The building had several floors, and even though powerful cadres had bigger apartments, there were several households on each floor. It felt as if everyone was craning their necks to listen.

Wei Dong paid them no mind. He wasn’t about to explain to the tax bureau people that he was already a millionaire—that would only bring trouble.

He found his father downstairs, grinned, and told him, “The job here’s done, but I’ve found you a better one in Jiangzhou. Come on, let’s talk about how to handle it.”

Old Let was utterly confused.

Wei Dong pulled him back to gather all their cash, packed up their things except for a few bachelor’s items, and waited for his mother to return with the household registration book that afternoon. The whole family would head to the docks and leave.

Wei Dong felt that his entanglement with the Shi family was finally severed.

So he didn’t see Shi Linyan, who managed to leave school early after evening class to knock on their door, only to find no one home and burst into tears.

She cried bitterly.

Wei Dong laughed heartily on the other side.

He was a car owner now!

Seeing him arrive with his parents laden with bags—two baskets and backpacks stuffed full—Mrs. Wang eagerly helped them settle in.

Wei Dong was only now surprised to discover that this storefront-cum-office was a two-story setup: three bedrooms or offices upstairs, a spacious forty-square-meter room downstairs, with a restroom under the stairs.

By modern standards, this was already a classic downstairs restaurant with private rooms upstairs.

Two thousand yuan a year even included a business license for operating groceries under the labor service company—a bargain.

Of course, Wei Dong wasn’t about to take such a big step right away. He first arranged for his parents’ lodging, helped his mother buy all sorts of kitchenware, went with Mrs. Wang to sample hotpot and figure out the flavors, and tried making it himself the next day.

He didn’t need to make a full hotpot base; as long as he could manage a spicy soup for skewers, it would be enough.

With so many factories nearby, it was perfect for young workers grabbing a quick bite.

In truth, it was also to reassure Mrs. Wang. If he were a scam artist, he wouldn’t be so busy planning his livelihood.

He brought his family’s household registration, along with hospital diagnoses and admission certificates under Old Let’s name. Short of an official photo, everything was complete.

But in these times, everyone seemed clear and naive, never as guarded as Wei Dong.

Early the next morning, a Dongfeng truck delivered a ton of goods, and Mrs. Wang urged him to hurry off—his parents wanted her to teach them about local life.

No wonder the sibling gangs at the docks could scam so many people.

The agreed-upon contract was stamped, and as promised, Wei Dong was issued a work permit—just needed to attach his photo.

Truck documents: oil money was on him, refueling required his own effort, one key for the truck, which had only run eight thousand kilometers. He was urged to cherish it.

Wei Dong handed over eighty-five hundred yuan to the reluctant driver and accountant, then took them to the long-distance bus station.

He listened as the driver explained some important things about the truck.

Old Let and his wife knew their son had learned to drive at the transport company, and had heard others mock and pity him, but now, seeing him confidently start the truck and drive off, they were moved to tears!

He had gotten his passport to the twenty-first century; Wei Dong had long forgotten the old shrew’s humiliation.

Barely managing to hold back from tearfully sending off the driver and accountant at the bus station, he drove off alone, laughing all the way.

He never expected that in just half a year, he would somehow manage to contract a truck.

This was a life on wheels he had never experienced in his previous existence—how could he not be happy?

Even though the stiff suspension soon made his backside sore, he couldn’t stop smiling.

Luckily, he had plenty of experience “navigating” with maps. The key was that Jiangzhou roads had few vehicles, no complex one-way streets or restricted zones—he could drive as he pleased.

Wei Dong spent an hour leisurely driving the truck to the cargo dock across the river, transferring the goods for shipping.

A hundred titanium ingots barely took up a corner on a two-thousand-ton freighter. With departure scheduled for the next morning, he would board in the evening, so Wei Dong took the truck for a spin around town!

Cruising in a truck—a bit hardcore, but in 1984, it wasn’t impossible.

His first stop was, of course, the high-end photo studio to pick up his pictures.

The manager, Zhang, remembered him well. Seeing the massive Dongfeng truck parked at the door, he was about to shoo it away, when he saw Mr. Chengrang hop out, laughing.

He smiled, too, and carefully helped Wei Dong attach the photo to his work permit.

Then, a bit embarrassed, Manager Zhang had actually taken the liberty to print a fifteen-inch deluxe color portrait, complete with a frame. What to do?

The photo was excellent—a half-length shot with an aristocratic elite air. Wei Dong happily paid.

But he had no home to hang it in—where could it go?

Before the traffic police arrived to ask questions, he hung it right in the center of the rear window in the cab, like a South Asian truck decoration.

Except, the size and placement made it look a bit like a memorial tablet. Manager Zhang could only watch, his face twitching in disbelief.