Chapter 100: Sales Department Manager

“Uncle Chen, I think you’re mistaken. How can you say I’m setting a trap for you? It was you who saw the tailor shop was about to go under and, fearing you’d lose everything, came to my family and forced my parents to buy you out. That money was compensation for my serious injury, meant for medical expenses! And you accepted it without a second thought. Now, how is it that you’re turning around and biting the hand that fed you?”

Wu Ya snapped back without hesitation and turned sharply to leave.

When dealing with someone like Old Chen, you have to keep him firmly in your grasp.

Make him grovel.

Otherwise, he’ll just lean on his age and status, never letting go and always pushing for more.

Sure enough, seeing that Wu Ya was ignoring him completely, Old Chen grew anxious.

“Nephew, we can talk this over calmly. Why rush off like that? Don’t you have any respect for your uncle at all?” he said while quickening his pace.

He jogged alongside Wu Ya, plastering on a stiff, ingratiating smile.

This nephew of his was a different man now—head of a major company.

And what was he? A middle-aged man who’d lost his job and had no profession.

At this moment, Chen Boyuan’s words were humble, his demeanor lowered. He didn’t even dare tug lightly on Wu Ya’s arm, but kept pace with his brisk strides, hurrying to keep up.

He simply couldn’t afford to offend him.

If Wu Ya wanted to, he might still throw him a bone.

Otherwise, that chance would vanish, and there’d be no hope of gaining anything from him ever again.

“Heh heh,” Wu Ya stopped suddenly.

Old Chen, caught off guard, stumbled forward, unable to brake.

“Why the sudden stop, nephew?” he chuckled, turning back with a sycophantic grin.

He naturally fell back in step beside Wu Ya, standing there awkwardly but undeterred, his stubborn nature fully on display.

As long as it earned him money, a little humility and groveling were nothing.

Compared to real gold and silver, pride was merely an illusion.

Because when you’re hungry, no one feeds you for free.

So what was the worth of pride? A few measly coins at best.

Watching Old Chen, Wu Ya knew the moment was right.

Chen’s attitude had sunk to its lowest, while his hunger for profit soared highest.

The thicker the skin, the better—it was exactly the shamelessness Wu Ya needed.

He wanted Old Chen’s relentless pestering, his refusal to give up until he got what he wanted.

“Uncle Chen, given the relationship between our families, of course I have to give you face. I must! Otherwise, my parents won’t let me off the hook. They’ll scold me for disrespecting my elders. You know that, right?” Wu Ya said respectfully, but his words sent a ripple of nervousness through Old Chen.

He was being polite, but Wu Ya wasn’t about to be played.

Those who don’t know their place end up despised.

If Wu Ya got upset, thinking Old Chen had crossed a line again, the hard-won chance to talk would vanish like smoke.

And he’d never get so much as a crumb from him again.

Moreover, Wu Ya’s words had a hidden meaning: Even if he didn’t give face, how would his parents find out?

Unless Old Chen himself went to complain.

Not foolish, Old Chen quickly reassured him.

“Heh heh, nephew, rest easy! I don’t go around gossiping. Besides, since you promised to give me face, I’m grateful beyond words! No need to ask my opinion—I’ll do whatever you say!” His words were skillfully crafted.

He wouldn’t rat him out and would follow his lead.

If Wu Ya wanted something kept secret from his parents, Old Chen wouldn’t breathe a word.

Now that he knew Wu Ya had a factory, he was determined to latch onto this opportunity and ride his coattails.

“Hmm, Uncle Chen, since we’re family, I can’t let you down. You came to join me here, so I have to give you a position—at least some managerial role. Doesn’t that sound right?” Wu Ya said.

A position of power?

Chen Boyuan was stunned.

This kid wasn’t just offering him a job, but actually proposing an official role?

No way.

Was he really that kind?

No—it must be politeness, testing if he had ambitions.

After all, he was an original shareholder of the tailor shop, had a special status, a higher standing.

Perhaps Wu Ya feared that once he settled in the factory, he’d become a rival.

Or maybe, since Chen had a history of backstabbing, Wu Ya was trying to flatter him, hoping he’d politely decline.

Yes, that must be it.

A million thoughts raced through Chen Boyuan’s mind.

Finally, he said, “Nephew, your Uncle Chen is old and confused—I’m not fit for big responsibilities. Just give me a light, easy job where I can earn a little money to support my family each month. As for any official role, I simply don’t have the ability.”

Better to refuse outright.

That way, both he and Wu Ya could be at ease.

But then—

“Uncle Chen, do you misunderstand me? I sincerely want to hire you as a manager!” Wu Ya said earnestly.

Instead of the expected glad acceptance, Chen was met with genuine sincerity.

Now he was completely thrown off balance.

What did this kid really want?

To have him work in the factory, or not?

If yes, why torture him like this? Just say it plainly.

If not, then just say no.

Stop playing mind games!

An official position? Could it be real?

“Nephew… you…” Chen stammered.

But he wasn’t willing to give up the chance to make money with Wu Ya.

A big company was the perfect place to take it easy.

If given a simple post, he could thrive and enjoy life.

“Uncle Chen, let me be straightforward. My factory is newly established and still hiring. So all positions are open. I want to find some highly capable people to manage key departments. With your skills, I intend to put you in charge of sales.”

Head of sales?

“Nephew, are you serious?” Chen couldn’t believe his ears.

Was he really being offered an official position?

It was like a gift from the heavens.

The day was perfect.

He’d come just to test the waters, hoping to get something through Old Wu, maybe a word to his son.

No matter what, to find some work and earn a little monthly income.

So he wouldn’t have to endure his wife’s sour face and constant nagging.

Especially lately, since hearing that Wu Ya had turned the tailor shop around so spectacularly.

She’d gone from praising his wisdom to calling him a stupid pig with the thickest skull she’d ever seen.

But what could he do?

At their age, they were the unloved generation caught between forty and fifty.

No one wanted to hire them.

Forced, he turned to Wu Wanli again, seeking a job here.

He never expected there’d be an official role waiting.

“Uncle Chen, I wouldn’t joke with you. Just tell me—are you willing?” Wu Ya asked.

“Yes, yes! Of course I’m willing!” Chen nodded eagerly, nearly bowing.

Work and a title?

Only a fool would refuse.

And he was the clever Chen Boyuan.

He began imagining the future.

His wife, just a short distance away.

When he got home, she’d have to wash his feet.

He’d be a leader in a big company.

If she nagged again, he’d divorce that yellow-faced shrew in a heartbeat.

“Uncle Chen, what are you daydreaming about? Since you’re willing, let’s head to the factory,” Wu Ya said, nudging him, puzzled by his dazed, silly smile.

“Oh, heh heh, I’m just so happy I forgot myself! Let’s go; I want to get familiar with the environment and get into the role. Nephew, rest assured—with me here, your business will flourish like never before!” Chen said with an embarrassed smile.

He grabbed Wu Ya’s arm and strode forward, chest out and head held high, like a young man full of ambition.

Little did he know, this journey would be grueling.

Sales department?

He’d be the only one there.

Manager?

Just managing himself.

And the pay?

No base salary—commission only.

In other words, a temp.

Work and get paid; don’t, and you get nothing.

Wu Ya chose him precisely because of his relentless, never-give-up nature.

Such a man was born to be a salesperson.

As the factory grew and production soared, Wu Ya’s vision expanded to the entire province, even the nation.

Without a strong salesman like Chen Boyuan, how could it succeed?

No matter how good the product or how fresh the designs, someone had to spread the word.

Advertising?

Wu Ya had no plans for that yet—too costly.

So it had to be done by manpower, through hard work and aggressive expansion.

“Ah, my dear Uncle Chen, I hope you don’t disappoint me. I want you to help me make the ‘Morning Thought’ brand known throughout the province in no time,” Wu Ya said, watching Chen’s beaming face with a secret smile.

Once you’re on this ship, there’s no getting off.

Wait until you realize you’re the sole member of sales, with no guaranteed income and no way out.

But don’t worry.

I have another reassurance for you.