The most loyal and righteous are often found among those of humble or rough backgrounds.

After the commotion in the office earlier, whatever lingering attachment Chen Jue had for Taisheng Financial was thoroughly erased.

He used to be as naive as his young apprentice, Jiang Lin, believing he could grow and progress together with a company, realizing his own value in life.

But reality is often even more absurd than television dramas.

You treat the company as family, while the company sees you as a burden, eager to cast you off without spending a dime.

“Once I get the compensation, I’ll leave as soon as possible,” Chen Jue sighed.

He returned to his desk and glanced around. Most of his colleagues, having been coerced into signing those unfair severance agreements, had already stormed out, cursing under their breath.

With nothing left to do, there was no point in lingering any longer.

He might as well go out early and look for a new job.

Time for interviews or to just let himself be free.

Even Chen Jue’s apprentice was packing up his things, obviously ready to bolt as well.

“Brother Jue, are you coming in for the next two days?” Jiang Lin asked in a hushed voice.

Fresh out of college, he still retained some schoolboy discipline and felt it improper to just leave like this, so he sought his mentor’s opinion.

“I probably won’t be back.”

“Coming in would just be a waste of time.” Chen Jue waved his hand, urging him to head home early.

“Well… then I’m off!” Jiang Lin hesitated for a moment, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and fled as if escaping a monster’s clutches.

Whether he was rushing off to meet his girlfriend or report to his parents, Chen Jue couldn’t tell.

Regardless, having been unreasonably stripped of their compensation, no one present was in a good mood.

Except, perhaps, for Chen Jue.

He was one of the few employees who had managed—through sheer force—to secure his legal entitlements from the boss.

...

Back at his desk, Chen Jue spent some time looking up information about darts and watching a few videos online.

He realized his perspective had been too narrow before, focusing only on the competitive, needle-tip darts.

He’d never imagined that the art of darts in his own country was so rich and profound!

Standing 2.44 meters away and hitting a target with needle darts was child’s play in comparison. It was just better advertised, more widespread, and had a larger player base.

The experts in the videos were throwing everything from custom-made throwing knives, short swords, daggers, to needles, playing cards, even axes, wrenches, and chopsticks!

It seemed there was nothing that couldn’t be thrown like a dart.

Most impressively, these experts could throw from distances far beyond ten meters, landing their shots wherever they pleased with uncanny precision.

“Truly eye-opening!”

“Who knew you could play darts like this?” Chen Jue watched in fascination, intent on studying these masters’ grips and throwing techniques.

His own [Darts] skill had just reached Level 3. Though still an amateur, he could roughly discern the body posture of the experts after just a few viewings.

This was the essence of drawing inferences—one look, and his mind had more or less figured it out.

As for whether he could hit his mark from over ten meters away like those masters, that would take a lot of hands-on practice.

...

After idling away for a while, Sister Li came over.

She handed him a brand-new resignation agreement.

Glancing at it and seeing that the N+1 cash compensation had been replaced by an equivalent value in inventory vehicles, Chen Jue was satisfied and signed it, pressing his fingerprint on the page.

Resignation agreements were made in duplicate: one copy for the company’s files, one for the individual.

With this agreement in hand, both sides could avoid any unpleasant disputes later.

Seeing that Chen Jue had obediently signed, Sister Li, the HR manager, breathed a sigh of relief.

The image of that pen stabbing through the sofa earlier had left her with a psychological shadow; she’d probably have trouble sleeping for days.

Fortunately, the last troublemaker in the company had signed, and she’d finally completed the task entrusted by the bosses.

With this, her own N+1 compensation was secured, and she’d even landed an extra offer with matching pay and a signing bonus—a stroke of luck she was secretly delighted with.

...

After signing the agreement, Chen Jue had no desire to waste another minute at Taisheng Financial.

Even just now, while he was idling, over fifty colleagues had dwindled to barely a dozen.

The only ones left were from finance and post-loan servicing—departments that still had actual work to do.

He packed up his things and slipped into the post-loan department’s office.

Inside, a few burly guys were making collection calls in booming voices.

With clients who were only a day or two overdue, their tone was cautious and polite—since those were good customers who rarely defaulted.

But when calling the habitual offenders—those who frequently missed payments or owed for several periods—the language turned ugly.

After a string of censored expletives, they sometimes ended up in shouting matches with the clients.

It was a stressful department, to say the least.

“Chen Jue, you’re just in time! Director Zhou just called and said you can go to the warehouse and pick up a car,” said Hu Liang, the post-loan supervisor, as he put down his phone and pulled a metal box from the safe.

Inside were all kinds of car keys, each labeled with a client number, which could be cross-checked in the company system for details.

“Any particular model you’ve got your eye on?” Hu Liang handed the box to Chen Jue.

“Brother Liang! Help me find a domestic SUV for daily use, bigger space, as new as possible, ready to drive away—preferably one that doesn’t need a lot of maintenance,” Chen Jue listed his requirements.

Though he’d never bought a car himself, he’d been in the business long enough to pick up a thing or two.

“In that case, take this 2020 Geely Haoyue, 1.8T, meets National VI emission standards.”

“The previous owner only drove it just over 30,000 kilometers before defaulting. The court just closed the case, and all paperwork is complete.”

“It’s been sitting in the warehouse for a few months. I’ll bring you over to jump-start it and give it a test drive.” Hu Liang winked at Chen Jue, signaling him to keep quiet, then grabbed the keys and led him out the company gates.

They drove Hu Liang’s car to a warehouse on the outskirts, more than ten kilometers away.

There, among a fleet of dust-covered repossessed cars, Chen Jue found the black Haoyue.

On the way, he’d already checked the car’s residual value in the company system; even the wholesale price to used car dealers was over 80,000, nearly 20,000 more than his N+1 compensation would have been.

He inspected the car—no dents or scratches, well maintained by its previous owner, just needed a wash to be road-ready.

“Brother Liang, this car is great!”

“They’re really transferring ownership to me?”

Chen Jue felt awkward rummaging in his pockets—he’d quit smoking, so he couldn’t even offer a cigarette to break the ice.

“Damn, Zhou Yong and his bunch squeeze us dry every day. I’ve had enough of them! Glad to finally see someone make them cough up a bit,” Hu Liang said.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tweak the mileage in the system so they can’t nitpick!”

“I don’t have time to go with you for the transfer, but I’ll have a friend handle it for you—just give him a carton of cigarettes as thanks.” Hu Liang waved it off like it was nothing.

As the head of post-loan, Hu Liang called the shots on vehicle disposal.

And with the higher-ups too precious to ever check on assets in the wilds, it was all too easy to do a little creative accounting.

“You’re the best, Brother Liang!”

Chen Jue trusted his methods and climbed into the car with a grin.

They jumped the battery, gave it a spin, and found it ran smoothly and had plenty of space.

He swung by a corner shop in the nearby village and bought a carton of cigarettes as a thank-you.

They say the righteous are often found among rogues—after witnessing the bosses’ constant scheming for their own gain, Chen Jue finally found a sliver of good impression left in the company.

Of course, Hu Liang accepted the cigarettes without protest.

With that, they chatted amiably all the way back to the company.

...

That afternoon, Chen Jue went with Hu Liang’s contact to the DMV and completed the transfer—though he couldn’t get a Hangzhou plate.

Hangzhou’s license lottery and restrictions meant Chen Jue had no quota.

The car was a regular gasoline model, so he had to pay a broker to register it in his hometown, Wenshi.

Hu Liang had plenty of contacts for that—he sent over a WeChat, Chen Jue transferred 500 yuan, and the matter was settled.

“Temporary plates are the best—no need to worry about violations or restrictions.”

Driving his newly acquired SUV back to the Changhe community, Chen Jue spent another 400 on a full tank, and 450 for a month’s temporary parking at the security booth by the gate.

Although it had been a triumphant day—

He’d salvaged his dignity in front of the company bosses and landed a practical car for daily use—

Looking at his expenses for the day, Chen Jue felt overwhelmed.

“I need to find a way to make money!”

No job, and now a car to support—Chen Jue felt a growing sense of urgency.

Just as he was fretting about what to do next, his phone rang.

It was a voice message from his roommate, Jiang Zhe.

“Fourth Bro! Good news!”

“I’ve got a big client whose company is hiring! I even asked about you specifically—it’s another financial company, right up your alley!”

“What do you say? Want to meet up tonight to talk it over?”

Jiang Zhe sounded truly excited on WeChat.

Hearing it was work-related, Chen Jue was interested.

Without hesitation, he sent over the location of Jingtang Club, along with a meme: “Tonight, all expenses are on Young Master Zhao.”

Jiang Zhe saw the address and instantly replied with three exclamation marks: “!!!”

Followed by three ridiculous stickers: “Devilish grin,” “Boss is generous,” “Does the boss want door-to-door service?”

Ah, men!

Happiness really can be that simple~