Chapter Sixty-Four: Foreman Lin

Mr. Jin swiftly stepped forward and took hold of the “Seven-colored Radiant Jade.” He glanced at the soil in the nearby vehicle, then, disregarding his appearance, dug down a bit, discovering that only the top layer was earth—the rest beneath was all “Seven-colored Radiant Jade.” Qianyin and Mo Lan’s faces darkened considerably. There truly were many villains in the world; seeing Mr. Jin so heartbroken yet elated tugged at one’s heartstrings. The bald man tried to approach Mr. Jin, but Mo Lan and Qianyin blocked his path, their expressions sour. What good was such a disloyal man?

The foreman immediately dropped to his knees, pleading, “Mr. Jin, I didn’t mean to deceive you. I’ve been short on cash recently. These stones looked valuable, so I planned to sell them elsewhere. There’s plenty more in the mountains—I only wanted to quietly take a few. I never intended to harm you.”

Mr. Jin remained silent, at a loss for words. He had trusted this man implicitly, never suspecting betrayal. Now, faced with it, he could find no excuse not to be angry.

The other workers milling about cast their eyes toward the scene. Seeing what transpired, they seemed to understand, and continued their tasks without stepping forward to intercede.

Mr. Jin noticed this too, and was visibly displeased. Had he not paid and cared for these people for years? Was there not a shred of loyalty among them? Had their consciences been fed to the dogs? He had always treated those who acknowledged him generously—yet it seemed he had been raising dogs.

With this thought, Mr. Jin let out a bitter laugh, tossed the “Seven-colored Radiant Jade” back into the dirt, and stood there fuming, his two bodyguards trailing behind, uncertain how to prove their sincerity or what to do with these men.

“If you’re short of money, you should have spoken to Mr. Jin—I refuse to believe he wouldn’t pay you. Stealing from your employer is against the law, and these two gentlemen are police officers. Are you hoping to spend some time in a cell?” Qianyin, thoroughly angered, spoke up. She considered Mr. Jin a friend, and when his interests were harmed, she could not stand idly by.

“Exactly—so many excuses for theft,” Coldblood added quietly. He supported whatever his woman wished to do, whether good or ill.

An Feng said nothing further; he’d done what was needed and left the rest to the others, feeling parched from speaking too much.

Mr. Jin remained silent, alone and angry. He needed to consider carefully: should he replace all these people, or give them another chance?

Mo Lan and Qianyin, seeing Mr. Jin deep in thought, knew these matters were best left to his own judgment. As friends, they shouldn’t interfere too much; expressing their opinions would suffice.

Mr. Jin’s silence stretched on, each person lost in their own thoughts. Foreman Lin feared losing his job, and equally feared entering a place from which he might never return. He cursed himself for ever entertaining such thoughts, for just as he was about to act, Mr. Jin arrived. Had he never considered it, how much better things might have been—but there was no going back.

Qianyin and Mo Lan worried that if Mr. Jin continued to employ such people, their morale would only worsen.

“Bodyguards, please fetch some spring water from nearby, or bring the bottled water from the car. Everyone must be thirsty,” Mo Lan suggested, glancing at the uneasy bodyguards. She understood that Mr. Jin’s demeanor had frightened them; after all, those employed as bodyguards often lacked social tact.

The two bodyguards nodded immediately, went to the car, and returned with a case of ordinary spring water. Since mineral mountains were usually short of water sources, there was little water nearby.

Mr. Jin finally spoke, having thought things through: “Xiao Lin, what you’ve done this time truly disappoints me. You’ve been with me for over twenty years, and I’ve never treated you poorly. Yet I can’t understand why you would do this.”

Foreman Lin bowed his head in contemplation, then suddenly stood up, angrily pointing at Mr. Jin. “You say you’ve never wronged me, but I too once weathered storms by your side. Why am I still a lowly foreman, and not, like you, a boss?”

Everyone was stunned by his words. Mr. Jin clutched his chest, overcome with rage. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t given Lin opportunities; Lin had simply failed to cherish them, and Mr. Jin had still been willing to keep him on. Where did this pride come from?

Mr. Jin’s smile grew colder, his eyes filled with disappointment and derision.

“You can leave now. None of this belongs to you, and I won’t send you to the police. Just don’t ever tell anyone you know me, Mr. Jin,” he said, closing his eyes in disillusionment, unwilling to say more. For such men, a single act of disloyalty meant they would never be employed again.

Foreman Lin, still resentful, grabbed a piece of black jade and charged at Mr. Jin. Mo Lan and Qianyin, closest to Mr. Jin, instinctively raised their feet and kicked him back against the crate.

The other workers hadn’t expected Foreman Lin to react so violently, daring to attack the boss. They stood dumbfounded, some bumping into each other and falling to the ground, still watching the unfolding drama.

Coldblood and An Feng were equally surprised—how could a man with no skill be so reckless? With Mr. Jin’s people all around, wasn’t this courting death?

A miserable scream snapped everyone’s attention back.

“Anyone else who isn’t afraid to die can step forward. And if anyone dares to leak today’s events, beware for your lives,” Qianyin declared with domineering finality, as she always meant what she said. Her gaze warned the workers: those unafraid of death could try their luck.

Mr. Jin, seeing Foreman Lin about to attack, felt a brief rush of fear, but seeing the four standing before him, his heart settled again. They had once again protected him.

Thus, with Qianyin handling the matter, he let her take charge. The returning bodyguard caught the scene, handed Mr. Jin a bottle of water, and bowed his head, murmuring, “I failed to protect you, boss. Next time, please be careful.”

The two bodyguards glared fiercely at Foreman Lin, who had fallen and crashed against the crate—if looks could kill, he would have been torn to pieces.

Foreman Lin staggered to his feet, blood seeping from his lips, his eyes still filled with unwillingness. Yet, under the murderous glares of Qianyin and Mo Lan, he silently stood, then limped outside.

Everyone watched him leave, but not a single soul felt sympathy for him.