Grace Grant invited Henry Sullivan to sit on the large sofa, while she sat on the single sofa next to it and asked Henry Sullivan a question.

Henry Sullivan nodded. “Sure.”

“Is there anything else that needs to be arranged?”

“For now, no.”

“Oh, alright. If you need anything, just let Old Chambers handle it anytime.” Grace Grant pointed at Paul Chambers as she spoke. Paul Chambers was still preoccupied with the air conditioner temperature. When he heard Grace Grant mention his name, he had no idea what it was about, so he just gave Henry Sullivan a silly smile.

“Mm.” Henry Sullivan responded, thinking to himself, could this Paul Chambers be a relative of the former factory leader? How did someone with an IQ below 60 become the head of the reception office?

Grace Grant noticed Paul Chambers’s absent-mindedness. She glared at Paul Chambers, then waved her hand, and Paul Chambers left the room looking aggrieved.

Grace Grant leaned slightly toward Henry Sullivan and said, “Director Sullivan, let me report to you. Originally, the factory was supposed to arrange a ceremony to welcome you to your new post. But, as you know, the previous leadership of the factory... sigh, now there’s only one deputy director and one deputy party secretary left. Even if we wanted to hold a welcome ceremony, we just can’t pull it off.”

“Let’s skip all that,” Henry Sullivan said. “I’m here to work. From now on, we’re all in the same boat, so there’s no need for these formalities.”

“Yes, yes, I think so too,” Grace Grant said repeatedly. “So, how do you want to arrange the next steps? When would you like to meet the middle management?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Henry Sullivan said. “Go and notify everyone: tomorrow, all factory leaders and department heads should come to the factory office for a meeting. If there’s no department head, have the acting deputy attend.”

“Alright, I’ll notify them right away,” Grace Grant said.

Henry Sullivan then gave a few more instructions, which Grace Grant noted down one by one. Soon after, David Brooks, who had just accompanied Franklin Turner to see his room, came in. Grace Grant had him ask Henry Sullivan about matters like meals and office renovations. Henry Sullivan showed little expression, listened more than he spoke, and for every question David Brooks asked, he simply said he needed to think it over before giving an answer.

Once David Brooks was done, there wasn’t much left to say. Henry Sullivan, saying he wanted to rest for a while, sent Grace Grant and David Brooks away. As soon as they left the guesthouse, Henry Sullivan picked up the room phone, dialed Franklin Turner’s room number, and asked him to come over to discuss some matters.

Franklin Turner’s room was close to Henry Sullivan’s—almost as soon as Henry Sullivan put down the phone, Franklin Turner came in, holding a delicate little box. He immediately noticed that on the coffee table in Henry Sullivan’s living room, there was a similar box, just a bit smaller than the one in his hand.

“So, you got one too.” Henry Sullivan, holding a cigarette, sat on the sofa without getting up, just gesturing with his mouth toward the box in Franklin Turner’s hand as he spoke.

Franklin Turner sat down on the sofa next to Henry Sullivan, held up the little box, and grinned. “Siemens S1, unit price 7,200, network access fee 4,800, total 12,000 yuan. Yours—tsk tsk tsk—Ericsson 337, just the phone alone is 9,600, plus the network fee, that’s about 15,000. Before I came, I imagined Lin Yi Machine would be a mess, people barely scraping by. Who would have thought, just two cell phones cost nearly 30,000 yuan. Who says Lin Yi Machine is on the verge of bankruptcy?”

Henry Sullivan’s face looked extremely grim. He said coldly, “Haven’t you heard the saying? No matter how poor, you can’t let the cadres suffer; no matter how hard, you can’t let the leaders suffer. Lin Yi Machine loses over ten million a year, owes the bank tens of millions in loans it can’t repay, but when it comes to money for flattering the leaders, they spare no expense.

Just now, David Brooks asked me what style of furniture I wanted for my office and even left me some color brochures. Look at these price lists—just a boss’s desk is 8,000 yuan, supposedly made from a single solid board, not a single seam. Even our ministers have never used such luxurious desks.”

“But wasn’t there already office furniture in the former director’s office? Why buy new ones?” Franklin Turner asked in surprise.

Henry Sullivan said, “That’s just how things are done here. New leaders never want to use the offices left by their predecessors, let alone their furniture. These people are useless at running the business, but when it comes to these crooked ways, they’re full of ideas.”

Franklin Turner said, “So just to welcome the two of us, the office has to spend at least 100,000 yuan. And then there’s the deputy director, chief engineer, chief economist—when they come, they’ll need arrangements too, right? How much will that cost? The workers’ wages can’t even be paid, it’s become a ‘three-capital enterprise,’ so how does the office still dare to be so extravagant and wasteful?”

Henry Sullivan said, “It’s simple. Lin Yi Machine has nearly 7,000 workers and over 1,000 retired workers. Monthly wages are over a million, nearly 20 million a year—the factory simply can’t afford it. But to give a few leaders some perks, at most it’s a few hundred thousand, which they can always scrape together from somewhere.”