The Capitalist’s Spoiled Young Master? Perfect to Take Home as a Husband

Chapter 122

"Everyone, stop pushing! If you keep crowding, A-Chu won’t distribute the money!" Wu Gang turned and shouted at the people behind him. His words carried enough weight that everyone immediately stopped shoving and obediently lined up.

The profit-sharing was based on work points. Seeing that everyone had formed an orderly queue, Song Nianchu finally began verifying the work points with the record-keeper.

Wu Gang stood at the front of the line. After Song Nianchu confirmed his work points, she instructed Mu Deyi to count out his share.

"Wu Gang, two yuan and twenty-six fen," Song Nianchu announced loudly.

Mu Deyi promptly handed over the exact amount to Wu Gang.

When Wu Gang received the two yuan, his hands trembled with excitement.

Though the sum seemed small, his family was large. His wife and mother had both earned full work points, working longer hours than he had, so their shares would likely be even larger.

Added together, the total would be substantial.

One by one, names were called, and each person left with a beaming smile.

Families gathered after collecting their money, pooling their earnings together.

Wu Gang’s household had one of the highest work points in the village. When they tallied everything up, they had nearly twenty yuan.

Aunt Wu stared at the thick stack of bills in her hand, feeling almost lightheaded.

In previous years, their entire family could barely save twenty yuan over twelve months.

But now, they had earned this much in just one month.

Of course, it couldn’t compare to city workers who made twenty or thirty yuan a month, but for rural folks like them, this was a fortune.

Families with fewer members received less, but since fewer people were sharing the earnings, everyone was satisfied.

Except for one person.

Mu Jingmei glared furiously at Song Nianchu, clutching her pitiful seventy fen.

"Why did everyone else get so much, while I only got seventy fen?"

Song Nianchu lifted her eyes lazily. "Shouldn’t you be asking yourself that? Who told you to earn so few work points?"

"I worked just as hard as everyone else! He deliberately recorded fewer points for me!" Mu Jingmei jabbed an accusing finger at the record-keeper.

"Don’t spout nonsense! I recorded everyone’s points fairly and impartially," the record-keeper retorted, unwilling to take the blame.

"Then explain why my work points are so much lower than everyone else’s!" Mu Jingmei insisted she was being targeted.

"Fine, since you’re so eager to know, let me spell it out for you." The record-keeper pulled out his notebook from his pocket.

"September 3rd—Mu Jingmei wove two meters of fishing net." He glanced at her. "Even the village children wove more than that."

"September 5th—arrived half a day late in the morning, left early in the afternoon."

"September 10th—only worked half a day."

"..."

The record-keeper listed every instance of Mu Jingmei’s poor attendance over the past month.

By the time he finished, Mu Jingmei’s face had darkened like a storm cloud.

"Comrade Mu, you were hardly ever present for work, yet now you complain about getting less money? Others earned more because they worked more—and night shifts counted for double points. You only worked two nights. The fact that you got seventy fen at all is me being lenient!" The record-keeper rolled his eyes.

And that leniency was only out of respect for Song Nianchu and Mu Deyi.

Otherwise, by his standards, Mu Jingmei would have gotten even less.

Hearing how little Mu Jingmei had actually worked, the other villagers couldn’t help but murmur among themselves.

"Some young girls have such lofty ambitions but no sense of their own contributions."

"Exactly. Our village has always been fair—no one’s work points are unfairly docked. And here she is, a city transplant, questioning our system."

"Honestly, where does she get the nerve? Accusing others of targeting her? We’re all too busy working to spare her a second thought!"

"..."

Every word reached Mu Jingmei’s ears, and her expression twisted with humiliation.

Just as she was about to explode, Mu Deyi finally lost patience.

"What are you still standing here for? Go home!"

"Dad, why are you yelling at me too?" Mu Jingmei’s eyes instantly welled up with tears.

"Get out of here!" Mu Deyi barely restrained his anger.

"I hate you!" Mu Jingmei screamed before turning and running off.

Mu's mother hesitated, then chased after her.

"Alright, everyone, don’t let this little incident ruin the excitement of today’s profit-sharing. Let’s refocus—I have something important to announce." Song Nianchu stood, sensing the dampened mood.

"A-Chu, what is it? More good news?" Wu Gang chimed in eagerly.

"Yes, very good news!" Song Nianchu confirmed.

"What kind? Are we getting more money?"

"Ha! You’re money-crazy! Just got your share and already asking for more? Money doesn’t grow on trees!"

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

The mood quickly shifted, and no one dwelled on Mu Jingmei’s outburst.

"There is more money involved—but not for distribution. We’re building a factory," Song Nianchu declared slowly.

"A factory? What kind? Here in our village?"

"Who’s building it? Outsiders?"

"..."

As chatter erupted, Song Nianchu raised a hand for silence, and the crowd quieted.

"It’s not outsiders—it’s us. Over the past month, our village has earned over ten thousand yuan. After distributing three hundred yuan in shares, we still have nine thousand left in the village fund. That should be enough to build a small factory." She spoke loudly, ensuring everyone heard.

"How… how much?"

"Wait—am I hearing things? Did she just say we’re ten-thousand-yuan rich?"

"You heard right! I did too!"

"Did we really earn that much? A-Chu, you’re not lying, are you?"

"..."

"Of course not. Accountant Mu is here—ask him if you don’t believe me." Song Nianchu gestured to Mu Deyi.

"The village did earn ten thousand yuan," Mu Deyi confirmed, standing up.

"My heavens… I’m part of a ten-thousand-yuan household now?" one villager gasped.

"Not household—that’s for individuals. We’re a ten-thousand-yuan village," another corrected proudly.

"..."

"With the remaining money, we'll build a dedicated cannery so everyone won’t have to squeeze into that cramped village workshop anymore. Once the factory is up, we can even buy machinery—efficiency will improve, profits will grow, and everyone’s share will get bigger!" Song Nianchu’s resolute voice rang clear in the ears of everyone present.