Chapter 7 — 8 Million Dividend Does Not Include Me, No One Knows I Own Tens of Millions of Yuan

Tran Loi told me everything that happened after that. At the end of February, Kien Quoc Plastic Company fired one-third of its workers. In early March, the eldest brother's 300,000 yuan and the second brother's 200,000 yuan were both demanded back by his father. It is said that the whole house was in chaos that day. The second brother absolutely refused to admit it. Until dad picked up the bank statement and threw it right in his face. In the end he had to kneel right in the middle of the living room. The two sisters-in-law stood nearby, crying and making a fuss. Said the family was about to be torn apart. By the end of March. The loan to buy equipment still cannot be repaid. Dad ran everywhere, looking for everyone he could rely on. Even after a month of collecting money, there wasn't enough money. In the end... He had to sell his old house to fill that hole. House sale date. Mom cried so much that she could barely breathe over the phone. That call was not for me. But call me. But my eldest sister-in-law passed the recording to me. I don't listen. Don't delete it either. Just leave it quietly in the mailbox. As if to prove that... Some things do happen in the end. There are final prices that still have to be paid. Late February. The city has just experienced the last cold spell of winter. I was sitting in my office looking at the new quarterly financial report when my phone rang. It's a message from Tran Loi.

"General Lam, the situation at Kien Quoc Plastic Company is not very good."

I looked at the screen for a few seconds. Since the time I met my father in the apartment complex, I no longer proactively asked about anything related to the factory. Not out of resentment. But because it really let go. There are things that, once you decide to leave, you should not look back too many times. I opened the attached file. The report has only three pages. But the more I read, the darker my face became. After losing the contract with Thinh Hang, the number of orders from Kien Quoc Plastic Company decreased by more than half. The two production lines almost fell into a state of semi-stagnation. An equipment loan worth three million yuan is also coming due. The bank sent a second reminder in writing. If payment is still not possible at the end of March, the bank will take further measures. I scroll down to the last line. There is a short note.

"Yesterday the company held an emergency meeting that lasted four hours."

I stopped. Fingers unconsciously tapped lightly on the table top. Tran Loi sent another text message.

"I have an acquaintance in the human resources department."

"They recounted the content of the meeting."

I don't answer. The screen quickly displayed a few more lines of text.

"Your eldest brother proposed cutting bonuses and reducing wages for all workers."

"Brother suggests continuing to borrow working capital."

"But both options were rejected."

I gently closed my eyes. Salary reduction. Such is the working style of the two of them. A person who only knows how to save other people's money. A person only knows how to use new loans to cover old debt. But the factory's biggest problem has never been money. It's the customer. No orders. Borrowing another ten million yuan will only prolong the time. The phone vibrates again. This time it's a recording. I hesitated for a few seconds then opened it. Dad's voice rang out from the speakers. Much more hoarse than before.

"There is no other way."

"The company had to cut staff."

There was an immediate sound in the meeting room murmur. Some people object. Someone sighed. Some people are silent. Then came the eldest brother's voice.

"Dad, if we cut back, we should cut the production department first."

The second brother immediately intervened.

"Impossible."

"If we cut production, who will we get to make goods when there are new orders?"

The argument lasted for a few more minutes. Dad banged the table. The sound resonates very clearly in the recording.

"Cut thirty people."

"Start working from next week."

The recording ends. The office became quiet. I looked at the city outside the window. The line of cars is still long. Everything still operates as usual. But somewhere else. There are thirty families about to lose their source of income. I know very well what that means. When I was a child, every time the factory had little work, my mother often complained about money. At that time I didn't understand. Now I understand it so clearly. A worker lost his job. Behind is often an entire affected family. I put down the phone. Remind yourself that this is no longer about you. That's their choice. That's the price they have to pay. But I don't understand why. Throughout that afternoon, I still couldn't concentrate on work. Until it's almost time to get off work. Tran Loi sent a new file again.

"General Lam."

"The layoff list has been confirmed."