My Wife Is A Miracle Doctor In The 80s

Chapter 790: Chapter 782 Offended Someone Chapter 790: Chapter 782 Offended Someone He had been rushed off his feet for several days, scarcely giving a thought to his grandson’s affairs, while his parents at home urged him daily to bring back his grandson.

But how could he possibly leave now?

Let alone his grandson, he himself was about to become someone’s “grandson”—if the factory’s troubles weren’t resolved, his whole family would soon be facing destitution.

Dizzy with busyness, he sought favors everywhere, groveling like a grandchild.

It was only after great difficulty that the factory’s issues were finally settled.

He breathed a sigh of relief, and although he had suffered a considerable financial loss, which pained him deeply, at least the factory was safe.

No matter what, he could still hold the position of factory director and make a comeback.

However, just as he was beginning to relax, trouble struck again.

Every day he was preoccupied with this and that at the mansion, originally a large-scale factory now reduced to half its workforce, with workers gone and profits dwindling.

He used to make a good sum of money every month, but now his earnings were barely enough to cover expenses.

Thus, he had no choice but to drastically cut the number of employees at his factory, hoping to tide over the next few months until better times, when he could bring the workers back.

Therefore, people often say it’s easy to go from frugality to luxury, but difficult to revert from luxury to frugality.

He hadn’t had to be so thrifty in decades, and starting to economize proved intolerable.

He downgraded from premium cigarettes to cheap ones, dared not drink anymore, and even avoided social gatherings with friends, for fear that they would pressure him to pick up the tab.

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In the past, his generosity knew no bounds, but now his funds were so stretched thin that even his savings were being depleted, threatening to expose his financial foundations.

If he continued in this way, he would truly be left with nothing.

To avoid falling into such a predicament, he had to start living a life of extreme frugality.

Yet the events of the past few days were too uncanny—though he had run the factory for decades without any major issues, even during the most chaotic times, now it seemed to be cursed with endless problems.

Despite being a standout enterprise in terms of performance, no amount of competition could have led to the myriad issues they now faced, given the enduring reputation and economic strength of his old and established factory.

Left without options, he attempted to contact some acquaintances—those he had once known and to whom he had given many gifts.

These gifts had not been given in vain, yet that’s how business works; there are certain areas where one simply cannot cut corners without suffering the consequences.

He was desperate to know where he had failed to maintain good relations and whom he had offended to incur the wrath of such ominous figures, hoping someone could offer him guidance.

But those who once called him brother now avoided him, eluding even his direct inquiries faster than a monkey could flee.

Eventually, someone discreetly informed him that he had indeed crossed someone—a figure so influential that not even they dared provoke.

But Gao Peng truly had no idea whom he might have offended.

Though his business dealings involved some cunning and trickery, he had never committed any serious wrongdoing.

How could he have attracted such a significant problem?

He was at his wit’s end, overwhelmed by one crisis after another.

His lifelong business was shrinking to the size of a small workshop, with more and more workers leaving.

If this continued, not only would he have to endure the northwestern winds, that might even seem like a luxury—he feared he’d end up in jail.

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After all, which businessman doesn’t have a few secrets?

However, if those secrets were uncovered, it would be enough to cause him serious trouble.

Then one day, he received a call.

The phone number was hidden, and the caller arranged to meet him at a clubhouse.

He guessed it was that mysterious person and arrived early for the meeting, jittery and waiting inside long before the appointed time.

As soon as the clock struck the hour, there was a sound from outside.

A man in an iron-gray suit entered, his face exuding gravity and his whole bearing marked by aloofness, which involuntarily made Gao Peng shiver as if frozen.

“Hello there,” he said, bowing and scraping, his eyes not daring to wander.

He cautiously inquired if the gentleman had any business with him, surreptitiously surveying the man in front of him.

But no recollection of this impressive man could be found in his memory.

Truth be told, had he truly met and interacted with this man previously, he would have certainly remembered him and would not have hesitated to curry favor, let alone offend him.

“You’re Gao Peng?” the man asked indifferently.

“Yes, yes, I am,” replied Gao Peng quickly, taking a seat with caution.

He hurriedly pulled out a cigarette, one he formerly enjoyed but now reserved solely for keeping up appearances.

“May I ask who you are…?” he ventured gently, like a submissive grandchild, not even daring to lift his head.

“It’s not your concern who I am,” the man said, raising his hand to swat away Gao Peng’s cigarette, causing him an embarrassing moment.

It had been many years since he was treated in such a manner, reminiscent of his early days when he was looked down upon at the factory, a time when he felt disrespected despite his humble demeanor.

But having lived like that for so long, he had become quite adept at playing the role of “grandson.”

The man tapped his finger lightly on the table; the first tap of his finger caused Gao Peng’s heart to accelerate.

Thankfully, the man’s hand was gentle and the action seemed unintentional, as otherwise, Gao Peng’s heart might not have held up.

Gao Peng’s gaze was fixed on the man’s finger, and he dared not even breathe too heavily.

The man took something from his briefcase and tossed it onto the table.

“Take a look for yourself,” he said.

Gao Peng wiped the cold sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, discovering not just a damp forehead but that his clothes were also somewhat moist.

He quickly grabbed the stack of papers, sneaking another glance at the man who seemed not to notice.

Then he opened the file and began to read through its contents.

The more he read, the paler his face became, sweat accumulating on his forehead and his face reddening with strain.

“I give you two choices,” the man said in the same detached tone just as Gao Peng felt he might suffocate, sending another shiver through him and bringing forth a fresh wave of cold sweat as even his eyes began to sting.