The Wealthy Tycoon’s Game of Life -
Chapter 306 - 168 A Night of Fame
Chapter 306: Chapter 168 A Night of Fame
August 8, 2024, cloudy, occasionally sunny, a little rain.
An ordinary evening.
Jing City, a state-owned enterprise office building, archive office.
It was nearly the end of the workday. Comrade Zhou, leaning over his desk, wearing reading glasses, was meticulously writing a document stroke by stroke.
Next to him was a cup of clear tea, and a half-burned cigarette smoldered in the ashtray...
Although Zhou Wang had directly brought back a box of Da Zhong Jiu cigarettes, Old Zhou only distributed one pack when he first arrived at the office. The cigarette he normally loved to smoke was still the Ziyun, which had increased to 15 yuan per pack.
Getting used to it, this cigarette was still the most satisfying.
However, the tea he drank was excellent, the seemingly ordinary canister in his drawer contained the Iceland Lao Zhai his son had bought back, over a hundred yuan per gram, rare as gold.
Of course, Zhou Dajun did not boast to anyone. He merely bore silently this unnoticed honor—
He couldn’t let his tea outshine the leaders’ too much... inappropriate.
But having been sidelined in the company his whole life, Zhou Dajun did have his share of vanity. Occasionally, when he got tired of writing, he would get up to stretch his muscles, saunter to the window, and glance at the 2024 white Mercedes-Benz GLC AMG parked perfectly within view downstairs.
The peak experience was undoubtedly the day the car first arrived.
Especially during the end of the workday, Zhou Dajun specifically prepared a towel, and from the 5:30 pm quitting time, he spent 50 minutes wiping it back and forth...
"Hey, it’s my son Zhou Wang who bought it, I don’t have that capability..."
"Of course, it’s paid in full, even though full payment has fewer discounts, there’s no need to give away interest for free, hahaha!"
"Over 700,000, this kid, I told him there was no need to buy something so expensive, guess what he said... the brat said it wasn’t even a million, what’s expensive about that, earning money stops listening to this old man, young people nowadays, sigh..."
"Oh, you didn’t ask the price, my bad..."
That day, over 200 people in the state-owned enterprise building knew Zhou’s son had succeeded, and also... Old Zhou was so "annoyingly boastful"!
But no matter what, at Zhou’s age, having a laid-back position in the archive room, most still sincerely congratulated him, expressed their envy, and satisfied this middle-aged man’s little vanity.
On that evening, filled with red clouds, Comrade Zhou felt he had reached the pinnacle of his life.
After all, he didn’t have much hope left in his own life. He chose the wrong team three times when he was young, missing all opportunities for advancement. His career prospects had ended over a decade ago...
"Brother Zhou, let me top off your water!"
The young man named Xiao Gao across the desk came in with a kettle, laughed, and topped off Zhou Dajun’s tea.
"Xiao Gao, I can do it myself, why trouble you again?"
Zhou Dajun quickly thanked him.
Xiao Gao, who had only been transferred to the archive room this year, was more than ten years younger than Zhou Dajun. Before, he was not very familiar with Zhou Dajun. After all, their fate was to sit on the cold bench; they didn’t have the mind to engage in social dealings.
However, ever since Zhou Dajun drove in the Mercedes-Benz GLC, Xiao Gao unconsciously changed his way of addressing him from "Old Zhou" to "Brother Zhou," and his attitude became much more enthusiastic than before.
It couldn’t be said that Xiao Gao was looking to get something from Zhou, but it was undeniable that their relationship had indeed become much closer than before.
"Hey, just a handy thing, no need to be polite with me..."
Glancing at the papers spread on the table, Xiao Gao became somewhat surprised, "Oh, Brother Zhou, are you still writing your application for leave?"
"Yes, the last one was returned by Director Sun because my reason wasn’t sufficient enough, asked me to resubmit it."
Mentioning this matter, Zhou Dajun frowned, his expression becoming unpleasant.
He applied for leave naturally because of the planned trip to Europe. He just didn’t expect what seemed to be a smooth sailing matter to encounter some obstacles.
"You think Sun Liancheng is being a bit unreasonable, don’t you?"
Xiao Gao was also a bit angry, "The leave you’re applying for is official and reasonable, what right does he have to block you?"
Sun Liancheng, mentioned by Xiao Gao, was the director of their archive office. The whole archive office just consisted of the three of them and Sun Liancheng was the only leader.
"Haha, maybe he wants me to apply for early retirement..."
Zhou Dajun laughed and said.
Although he laughed, Old Zhou was certainly not comfortable inside.
His son had succeeded; "most people" did sincerely congratulate him, which also meant there must be a small portion who didn’t think much of it, even becoming more irritated.
Sun Liancheng, who had always had minor conflicts with Zhou Dajun, was obviously one of them.
Even for this "trivial" matter of asking for leave, the other party wanted to make him feel annoyed.
Not to mention the difference between "internal retirement" and "early retirement" was significant, although Zhou Dajun certainly didn’t care much about those trifles now, he would still feel a bit aggrieved.
"How about, Brother Zhou, let me write you an electronic version, submit it online too, maybe it’ll have a different effect..."
Xiao Gao hesitated before suggesting.
"No need, just leave it as it is. If he insists on making things difficult for me, at worst, I’ll just really retire early, what can he do?"
Zhou Dajun waved his hand, pretending to be carefree.
"Right, now you don’t care about missing a bit of insurance and salary, but if it really doesn’t work out, there’s no need to take a hit from Sun Liancheng, who does he think he is?"
Xiao Gao’s voice got a bit louder at this point, but nothing really happened, as he had always casually called Sun Liancheng by his name in private anyway.
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