Wen Ying told Yang Xi bluntly that she had burned incense to the wrong deity and worshipped the wrong Buddha.
Wen Ying held a mere 5 per cent stake in Shrimp King. Though still a minor shareholder, she had long withdrawn from daily operations.
The ones calling the shots at Shrimp King now were the Qin siblings, Yi and Jiao. Yang Xi ought to discuss it with them.
You should talk it over with Big Brother Qin Yi.
Wen Ying glanced at her watch. I am nearly late, so I will not chat more. Thanks for the water!
With that, Wen Ying waved to Yang Xi, shouldered her bag, and left.
The others, save for Little Liang, crowded round too.
Little Liang’s girlfriend was already showing, so he was the most desperate: Sister Xi, if this proves tricky, do not beg on our account. Worst case, I will take any job. Big firms shun me, but small shops are less picky. I can prep veg in kitchens, learn car washing, or apprentice at a salon even.
No!
Yang Xi cut him off. None of those jobs will do. Perhaps in a few years you could make your mark, but now, chopping veg as a peon, how do you convince your in-laws? They will drag your girlfriend for an abortion. You heard them: better a short pain than long. You cannot support a wife and child later, and that will be utter misery.
Little Liang was miserable enough now, wishing he could punch through his own skull.
What use was street life!
Others calling him Brother Liang had deluded him into thinking he was one. Slacking at school, with a record to boot, no firm would touch him now.
Little Liang was a hoodlum, true, but he adored his girlfriend.
He knew now was no ideal time for a child, yet with contraception failed, he could not bear her suffering an abortion.
Moreover, his father was dead, his mother had dumped him on grandparents and fled. Little Liang yearned desperately for a fresh family of his own!
The current Little Liang had none of the swagger from collecting at Deng Juan’s; standing there, the more he thought, the sadder he grew. His legs buckled, and he squatted, clutching his head in anguish, whimpering softly.
Yang Xi could not abide his spinelessness and kicked him: Enough. Boss Wen did not say yes, but she did not say no either!
Eh?
Little Liang looked up, and sure enough, he had been crying.
Yang Xi brimmed with assurance: Relax. As long as Boss Wen does not object, this will fly.
Wen Ying might ignore Shrimp King’s daily grind and hold scant shares, but she was its soul. Yang Xi feared Wen Ying might wield veto power, hence showing her Little Liang’s crew first.
Having done so, Yang Xi was well pleased with the outcome.
She already commanded immense respect among them; now they heaped gratitude and admiration, flattering her as Sister Xi this and that.
Yang Xi raised a hand to hush them: I am laying it bare upfront. I can fix you jobs, but if any slacks off and drops the ball, and I hear of it, no mercy!
Sister Xi might be off the streets, but her legend lingered.
Seeing her clench a fist, Little Liang and the rest nodded frantically.
Yang Xi wielded stick then dangled carrot: Anyway, work hard. To join Shrimp King, start with staff training. Post-training comes probation, then formal hire. It sells not just crayfish, a catering firm beyond that… In short, I am your prime example. Two years at Shrimp King, and I am about to buy a flat!
Manager Yang’s pep talk drew whoops from the lot.
Rong City flats fetched no small sum.
Most folk laboured years without family aid and still could not afford one; Sister Xi, mere two years in, buying solo. Shrimp King’s pay was truly generous!
Pay aside, as Sister Xi said, Shrimp King was no roadside stall but a proper catering outfit.
It boasted full reward and penalty systems; bonuses hinged on performance, not boss’s whim.
Vast room for advancement too: start as clerk, strive two years, perhaps rise to supervisor.
At once, Little Liang’s group wore looks of longing.
They, the fringe of society, had no aid save Sister Xi’s. If they truly entered Shrimp King, they dared not betray her trust. The streets demanded loyalty, after all!
…
Wen Ying shouldered her bag to Xie Qian’s.
Qin Jiao had waited a spell at the door.
Li Mengjiao was not there yet; she had performed out of town on Eve and first day, likely oversleeping this morn.
While unlocking, Wen Ying sketched Yang Xi’s tale briefly, concluding: Yang Xi will not quit easily. Failing my nod, she will likely wear you down.
Qin Jiao pondered, then shook her head with a smile: I barely know Yang Xi. She has that big-sister-of-the-streets vibe; she would balk at pressuring girls and go hound my brother instead. Let her. Hiring is hiring. If Brother deems them fit, hire away. Counts as our bit for social harmony.
Qin Jiao had long held dim views of little delinquents and thugs.
Yet Yang Xi’s conduct had much softened her.
Qin Jiao reckoned everyone’s malleability strong; youths in their twenties, barring innate monsters, all had chances to turn anew.
Slamming that door on such folk, in a decade, these unremarkable small-timers might spawn another Yu Wenhao-like villain!
Wen Ying largely shared Qin Jiao’s outlook.
Hiring was hiring, after all.
So long as Yang Xi swayed Qin Yi, Wen Ying would be daft to object, stuffed to bursting.
Only one quibble: what meant Yang Xi spared pressuring girls?
Qin Jiao was a girl, Wen Ying herself too. Had Yang Xi not counted her as one?!
Seeing Wen Ying’s pouty sulk, Qin Jiao ducked a laugh.
Yang Xi indeed spared girls pressure; in her eyes, Wen Ying was no ordinary lass.
Li Mengjiao truly dawdled today.
By her arrival, Peng Guoqing had shown too.
No lesson today?
Teacher Liang is still holidaying.
Peng Guoqing had idled three straight days, and no lessons left him void.
Day one, he romped with siblings.
Day two, he played dutiful grandson to grandparents.
Day three, restless Peng Guoqing gathered his books and, thick-skinned, came to Xie Qian’s to mooch a desk.
He vowed thrice not to disrupt Wen Ying and Li Mengjiao’s review; a table sufficed, he would study quietly!
At most, pester Qin Jiao with a puzzle or two when free… no undue ask. Wen Ying consented, and Peng Guoqing’s face grew oddly nuanced: One more thing I scarce know how to broach. You know my family is in Rong City, right? Dad wishes to treat you all to dinner.
