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

I opened it instinctively. Thirty names appeared on the screen. One by one. Line by line. I scrolled very fast. Then my eyes suddenly stopped at the last row. It was like someone used a red pen to circle that name in front of me. I stared for a long time. Immobility. Because that name is too familiar. So familiar that it reminds me of afternoons after school many years ago. Recall the pastries hidden in a protective drawer. Remember those rainy days. There is someone always standing at the factory gate waiting for me. His name is on the last line. Truong Quoc Phu. Old Truong protects. The person who secretly bought me cakes when I was young. And also one of the first thirty people fired. That night, I almost didn't sleep. The name on the layoff list kept repeating in my head. Truong Quoc Phu. Old Truong. The security guard has worked at the factory since I could not read. I remember very clearly, when I was a child my parents were always busy. Dad is busy in meetings. Mom is busy managing the restaurant. My two brothers are many years older than me, no one has time to pay attention to a child like me who hugs books all day. After school in the afternoons, the first person who saw me entering the factory gate was usually Mr. Truong. He will smile and close his eyes. Then secretly took out a cake from the drawer. Sometimes it's red bean cake. Sometimes it's milk cake. He always put it in my hand and pretended to be serious.

"Don't let your mother see."

"Or else I'll ask you to feed me junk again."

I was young then. I thought everyone in the world was that good. Only later did I understand. Not everyone is good. It's just that there are people who genuinely treat you kindly. And Mr. Truong is one of them. The next morning, I canceled my appointment with my partner. For the first time in many years, I drove to the old market south of the city. According to the address sent by Tran Loi. He said that after quitting his job, Mr. Truong often appeared here. The car just stopped. I saw him. He was pushing an old three-wheeled cart. The car was filled with cartons, plastic bottles and a few sacks of waste tied with rope. The late winter wind is very cold. His silver hair was blown messily. The gray cotton shirt on his body was so old that it was faded. I sat in the car and looked for a long time. In my memory, Mr. Truong always wore a guard uniform. Back straight. Talk brightly. Yet we haven't seen each other for just over a month. He seems to have aged a lot. I opened the car door and got out.

"Uncle Truong."

The man bowing his head to tie the rope suddenly stopped. He raised his head. His eyes, slightly dull due to age, suddenly brightened. He was stunned.

"You... when did you come back?"

"I've been back for a long time."

He frantically wiped his hands on his pants. Then he looked at the waste cart next to him, looking a bit embarrassed.

"Let me see this scene."

"I'm old."

"Can't do heavy work anymore."

"Pick up some scraps to earn some extra pocket money."

He smiled very naturally. It's so natural that it's like there's nothing worth mentioning about this. I looked at those wrinkled hands. Fingertips have many calluses. Some places are still cracked to the point of bleeding. Suddenly I felt uncomfortable and speechless.

"Why don't you rest?"

Old Truong laughed.

"How can I rest?"

"It's not easy for old people to sit and get sick."

He just said that. But I know. Not so simple. I Invite him to the noodle shop on the side of the road. Old Truong refused until he finally sat down. A bowl of beef noodles is placed in front of you. He eats very slowly. It's like wanting to save each noodle. I looked at him.

"About quitting my job..."

"Do you blame the factory?"

Old Truong was picking up noodles when he stopped. He thought for a few seconds. Then shook his head.

"No blame."

"I'm old."

"It's time to retire."

"It's okay to rest."

He spoke very gently. There is no resentment. There is also no dissatisfaction. Like talking about the weather today. I bent down to look at the bowl of noodles. My heart feels heavier. People like that. Shouldn't have been the first one left behind. Maybe see what I'm thinking. Old Truong smiled.

"Don't think too much."

"People live their whole lives, there are always ups and downs."

"The factory is really difficult."

"I get it."

Speaking of this. He suddenly sighed. That was the first sigh since we met.

"It's just..."

He stopped.

"My son is also unemployed."

"Since last year, I still haven't found a stable job."

"Daughter-in-law works at the supermarket."

"Salary is not high."

"I have a grandchild."