jdhmnovel Chapter 122 New Year's Goods
Chapter 122 New Year's Goods
Fine snow was falling outside the window.
Ling Yun sat in his office, frowning at a fax sent from Los Angeles. He rubbed his temples and heard a knock on the door.
"Enter."
Ma Baoguo pushed open the door and came in, holding a notebook in his hand. He was wearing dark blue overalls, his hair was neatly combed, and he had a smile on his face.
"President Ling, the Chinese New Year is approaching, and I would like to ask you about the annual meeting."
Ling Yun looked up at him, then looked down at the fax.
"Let's skip the annual meeting, it's a waste of time. Let's give the employees red envelopes, cash, two hundred each. You calculate how much that is, and we'll get it from finance."
Ma Baoguo didn't move.
Ling Yun waited a few seconds, then looked up at him: "What's wrong?"
Ma Baoguo took two steps forward and placed the notebook on the table.
"President Ling, we can forgo the cash payments, but we must provide the New Year's gifts."
"Why?" Ling Yun put down his pen. "It's so much more convenient to give out money. Employees can buy whatever they want. Giving out New Year's gifts is such a hassle, requiring purchasing and distribution."
Ma Baoguo shook his head. "It's different."
He pulled up a chair and sat down, leaning forward.
"Mr. Ling, you're a college graduate, so you have a quick mind. But some things aren't a matter of convenience."
Ling Yun leaned back in his chair, gesturing for him to continue.
"At this time last year," Ma Baoguo said, "do you know what the factory was like? We hadn't been paid for six months, and the workers sat at the factory gate every day. Those with connections were transferred, and those without connections went to the vegetable market to pick up vegetable scraps. My wife, to save two cents on bus fare, walked forty minutes in the winter to borrow rice from my sister's house."
He paused.
"Back then, when you walked down the street, acquaintances would avoid you. Why? Because they were afraid you'd ask to borrow money. Your kids would be laughed at by their classmates at school, who would say your dad's factory went bankrupt. When visiting relatives during the New Year, you'd carry lighter things than everyone else, and you'd be too embarrassed to even pick up your chopsticks to eat."
The office was quiet, with only the hum of the computers.
"And now?" Ma Baoguo continued, "Our factory is thriving. Wages are paid on time, and those who work a lot on piecework can earn eight hundred a month. The workers can hold their heads high. But this is a family matter; outsiders can't see it."
He tapped his fingers on the table.
"The Spring Festival is different. When you visit relatives and friends during the Spring Festival, people can see what you are carrying at a glance. If you are carrying two buckets of oil, a bag of flour, and a box of meat, people will know that this company is doing well and you have worked hard for nothing."
Ling Yun didn't speak.
"For employees, it's about face." Ma Baoguo spoke slowly, but every word was firm. "When he carried the gifts home, the neighbors asked, 'Oh, did your company give you these?' He nodded, his voice rising three fen. He told his children, 'Look, Dad's company gave me these.' And his children could say at school, 'Our house is piled high with New Year's goods.'"
He looked out the window; the snow had gotten heavier.
"For a company, that's reputation, that's word of mouth. Our factory has over 1,500 workers, and with their families, we have about 5,000 people. Those 5,000 people are 5,000 mouths. If they go out and say 'Spark Electronics Factory gives out generous New Year's gifts,' it's more effective than any GG we could get."
Ling Yun thought for a moment: "They can buy it themselves if we give them money."
“That’s different,” Ma Baoguo said immediately. “When you buy it yourself, it’s ‘I spent money.’ When the company gives it to you, it’s ‘I earned it.’ The feeling is different. Besides, do you really think they would spend all 500 yuan on New Year’s goods?”
He smiled, a bitter smile on his face.
"Workers are very frugal. They might spend fifty yuan on some oil noodles after receiving their paycheck, and save the remaining four hundred and fifty yuan to pay off debts or their children's tuition. In the end, their New Year's table is still meager. But when we give them goods, they have to take them home. Having those things there is a real sense of dignity."
Ling Yun remained silent for a while.
What do you think would be appropriate to post?
Ma Baoguo opened his notebook.
"I made a list: a 10-pound bag of rice, a 5-liter bottle of cooking oil, a 10-pound bag of flour, 5 pounds of pork, 2 pounds of eggs, a box of apples, and a box of pastries. It all adds up to about 100 yuan per person."
"One hundred..." Ling Yun thought for a moment, "Let's issue it according to the standard of two hundred."
Ma Baoguo was taken aback.
"Mr. Ling, isn't two hundred too much? Our factory's profits are good right now, but we're going to expand our production lines next year..."
"Since we're going to send it, don't be stingy," Ling Yun interrupted him. "Rice, flour, grains, oil, meat, eggs, and dairy products—you can decide what to include. Add some dried goods, like sunflower seeds and peanuts. Make the packaging look nice, and print the factory logo on the boxes."
He paused.
"Also, please compile a list of families facing difficulties. Single parents, families with seriously ill members, and families with children in university should receive an extra copy."
Ma Baoguo looked at Ling Yun, opened his mouth, but didn't say anything. He lowered his head and made a few notes in his notebook.
"There's one more thing," Lingyun said, "The annual meeting can be kept simple. Set up a few tables in the cafeteria, you and a few workshop directors can have a talk, and you can give awards to outstanding employees."
Ma Baoguo closed his notebook and stood up.
"I'll get on it right away. I'll contact the purchasing department and guarantee the quality."
"Wait a minute," Ling Yun called out to him. "Also, send a copy to the management team, the same as yours. And add a pack of cigarettes to your own copy; I know you smoke."
Ma Baoguo smiled. "Thank you, President Ling."
He walked to the door, then turned back.
"Mr. Ling, you may think this is a small matter. But for the workers, it's a big deal. I thank you on their behalf."
The door closed.
Ling Yun looked at the fax again, but couldn't concentrate. He got up and walked to the window.
The snow fell even heavier. In the factory area, several workers were pushing a cart towards the warehouse, loaded with keyboards that had just come off the production line. They were wearing cotton-padded coats, and their breath drifted into the cold air. Someone said something, and the group laughed.
This place was lifeless at this time last year.
Ling Yun recalled Ma Baoguo's words—"Tell the child: 'Look, this was given to me by Dad at work.'"
He thought of his father. Many years ago, his father worked in a machine factory. Every year around the 20th of the twelfth lunar month, his father would ride his bicycle home carrying a box of apples and a bag of peanuts. It wasn't much, but his father was proud. He would polish each apple and place them on the most prominent shelf in the house. When guests came, he would point to them and say, "They were from the factory."
Ling Yun remembers that pride.
He returned to his desk and called the finance department.
"Director Ma will soon allocate funds to purchase New Year's goods. He can approve it directly without asking me again."
After hanging up the phone, he thought for a moment and then dialed An Shiyu's number again.
"I'll pick you up tonight, let's go buy some things... for your parents. It's almost Chinese New Year."
On the other end of the phone, An Shiyu's voice was filled with laughter.
Outside the window, snow covered the concrete ground of the factory area. Several young workers were having a snowball fight, their laughter carrying far.