Chapter 119: The Familiarity of a Thug

Hearing the "pop" of the door and seeing Chen Anlong vent his anger on it, Jiang Fan shot a resentful glare at the door.

Ah Ping, who had witnessed the entire scene without flinching, waved her hand at him and said softly, "You really need to change your personality. Don't be so rigid. Go out and cool off for a bit; I’ll contact you later."

Jiang Fan headed downstairs with a dark, grim expression, intending to find Shen Tingting to inquire about Liu Xingyu’s interpersonal relationships at the factory.

Shen Tingting, who had been holding an envelope and keeping an eye on the door, saw Jiang Fan coming down and hurried out from behind her desk. She handed him the envelope and said, "Manager Liu left this for you before she left. You ran off in such a rush earlier that I didn't get to finish what I was saying."

Seeing that Shen Tingting had news about Liu Xingyu, Jiang Fan asked urgently, "What else did she say before she left? Did she leave with Gou Biao?"

Shen Tingting glanced back into the office and whispered, "There might be a new manager arriving today. All the colleagues are anxious, so I don't dare chat. Let’s talk during lunch."

New emperor, new courtiers—this saying held true for every management position at Dafeng.

With so many drifters gathered here, supply far exceeded demand. A single entry-level position would see dozens, or even hundreds, of applicants. Even the lowest-ranking line leader position was highly sought after. To secure their footing, anyone who took such a position habitually cultivated a few people close to them.

Where there is closeness, there is alienation, and those who are alienated risk being pushed out or even losing their jobs.

There were only a few positions in the Personnel Department, so whenever a manager was replaced, everyone felt the ripples, and everyone lived in fear.

Seeing that Shen Tingting was also in low spirits, Jiang Fan didn't linger. He took the letter to his favorite spot on the lawn.

The gist of Liu Xingyu’s letter was that she felt too ashamed to stay at the factory and had decided to start over. She also mentioned a specific matter.

The girl she had helped recruit for Gou Biao was named Feng Yingjie. Driven by guilt, Liu Xingyu noted that when Feng Yingjie came to the Personnel Department to process her resignation, she was accompanied by San Gouzi. When Liu Xingyu had concernedly asked her where she was going, Feng Yingjie had glanced at San Gouzi and dared not speak.

Liu Xingyu had even confronted Gou Biao about it, but he had feigned ignorance.

Later, a coworker of Feng Yingjie had accidentally discovered that she was working at a hair salon in Baisha. Liu Xingyu had tried to ask the coworker about that salon.

Since "sleeping with clients" was not a reputable line of work, the coworker, out of respect for Feng Yingjie’s dignity, had kept quiet.

Liu Xingyu suspected that this was yet another way Gou Biao and his cronies were making money. She hoped Jiang Fan could help her find Feng Yingjie and offer whatever help he could, as a way for her to atone for her sins.

After reading the letter, Jiang Fan’s heart remained unsettled for a long time. He was not only worried about Liu Xingyu but also about the stranger, Feng Yingjie. He wondered what other heinous acts these scumbags like Gou Biao had committed.

Thinking that Xiao Yuxin had a wealth of social experience and was unfazed by the kind of bizarre events he found unthinkable, he decided to seek her advice.

As he reached the factory gate, Liu Zhengjun, the guard on duty, saw his distracted look and asked with concern, "Brother Fan, what's wrong?"

The matters involving Liu Xingyu were somewhat difficult to voice, so Jiang Fan shook his head dejectedly and said nothing.

When he arrived at the fruit stall, Xiao Yuxin hadn't opened for business yet. Jiang Fan squatted by the roadside, staring blankly at the sparse flow of pedestrians.

A skinny, bedraggled hoodlum, whose face was vaguely familiar but whose name Jiang Fan couldn't recall, walked up to him and said fawningly, "Brother Fan, up so early?"

Jiang Fan didn't know if this hoodlum was one of Lu Zai’s or Brother Hui’s men, but seeing his obsequious expression, he replied casually, "I went to sleep early yesterday, so I woke up early."

Seeing that Jiang Fan was approachable, the hoodlum tried to make a lasting impression. He eagerly ran over to the Chaozhou landlady to borrow two stools, handed one to Jiang Fan, and continued, "Is there something on your mind? Tell me; maybe I can help you think of a way."

Liu Xingyu’s affairs were not something these hoodlums should know about, but when it came to finding a hair salon girl, these hoodlums were the best candidates.

Jiang Fan smiled forcedly and asked, "Do you know a hair salon girl named Feng Yingjie?"

The hoodlum shook his head and explained, "Most girls who enter hair salons use aliases because they are ashamed of their profession. They rarely use their real names."

"I only know her name, but I want to find her. What do you think is the best way?"

"Given your reputation, it’s easiest to ask the manager of the salon. Most of the salons in Baisha operate under 'Skinny Guy's' influence. He might know."

Hearing the hoodlum—who was around his own age—refer to him directly as "Skinny Guy" without honorifics, Jiang Fan realized he wasn't one of Lu Zai’s men, and his guard eased slightly.

He pulled out his cheap Coconut Tree cigarettes, offered one to the hoodlum, and asked, "If a woman with no relatives or friends resigns and leaves the factory, where do you think she would go?"

The hoodlum pulled out a lighter, lit Jiang Fan’s cigarette first, then his own, and said, "That depends on whether she has any money on her. If she does, she might find a cheap hotel to stay in while she looks for work. If she has no money, she’ll have to sleep out in the wilderness. A single woman usually won't leave an environment she's familiar with; after all, going to a strange place where she doesn't know anyone or anything makes the risk much higher."

"Familiar environment? Cheap hotel?" Jiang Fan muttered to himself. He immediately went to a nearby convenience store and called Brother Hui, saying he had an urgent matter and needed his help.

Brother Hui had been up late helping his third uncle prepare for a birthday banquet, and it took two rings of the mobile phone to wake him.

Drowsy, Brother Hui didn't even open his eyes as he asked, "What is it? Is it urgent? If not, just tell me over the phone. I want to sleep a bit more."

From the hoodlum’s reminder, Jiang Fan realized that Brother Hui could not only help but also provide advice. He said familiarly, "Brother, it really is urgent. It's hard to explain in a few words. After we're done, I'll even sleep with you if you want."

Brother Hui curled his lip and replied, "I’m not gay. Who cares about you sleeping with me?"

Seeing Brother Hui get up to leave, Ah Xia reminded him, "Get to the hotel early at noon. It's not good to keep the elders waiting for the banquet."

After finishing the call, Jiang Fan, thinking the hoodlum was quite helpful, asked, "What’s your name? It’s impolite to keep calling you 'hey' when we meet again."

Upon learning that Brother Hui was coming, the hoodlum hurried to take his leave. "Brother Fan, I’m skinny, so people call me 'Dried Tendon.' Just call me that. I have things to do now, so I'll be off."

After Brother Hui arrived and learned that Jiang Fan was merely trying to find Liu Xingyu, who had just left the factory, he scoffed, "I thought it was something life-or-death. It’s just this little thing."

Although he didn't consider it a big deal, he immediately took out his mobile phone—a symbol of his status—and had the deputy captain on duty at the security station check the hotels near Baisha to see if anyone named "Liu Xingyu" had checked in.

The regulation was that all hotels and inns had to register every guest in detail, unmarried couples could not share a room, and the registry had to be submitted to the local precinct every week.

In reality, such regulations were merely a formality. For people without ID cards, as long as they paid, many cheap hotels wouldn't bother with registration; they would just scribble down a few random names to get by.