Hi there:
I hope this message finds you and loved ones enjoying sound body and mind.
Longtime readers may have noticed I'm typically drawn to stories of personal hardship and transformation and pieces that explore inner conflict. My latest selection is a bit different.
In this issue, former journalist Shao Nian details his involvement in the campaign to secure fair compensation for the family of a migrant worker who died in an industrial accident. First published in Chinese by The Story Plan on July 25, the report vividly captures interactions between civil society, the private sector and the state, as well as illumiating the dynamics within a rural family and community.
Take care and see you soon.
—ML
Behind-the-Scenes: Negotiating Compensation for a Lethal Industrial Accident
By Shao Nian
Edited by Fog
1.
During the few years I worked as a metro reporter for a newspaper in a provincial capital, I frequently covered stories about victims of fraud or wrongdoing seeking justice. One incident in particular has stayed with me over the years.
In the wee hours one day in late 2016, my phone rang abruptly. It was Old Lu, a friend who hailed from the same hometown. He sounded quite anxious.
Earlier that day in the early evening, part of a suburban construction site had collapsed, trapping a rural migrant worker in the foundation pit. He died instantly. The worker's family members rushed to the city where I was based overnight.
The victim's last name was Chang. He came from a village not far from Old Lu's. Chang's family asked Old Lu if he knew anyone who could intervene. Going to the press was one of their options.
Old Lu agreed readily. He said he had an old friend who worked at a local newspaper.
Old Lu and I met on a law enforcement operation. He was the owner of a processing plant that had been reported for possible code violations. I tagged along with the officers responsible for the inspection. Even though Old Lu was ultimately fined, he and I became friends. Having forged his path in a major city over many years, Old Lu was a smooth operator. He had an exceptional ability to co-opt contacts into allies--every single friend was a brother.
On account of sharing the same hometown, I was a regular target of his dinner invites. Over time, we grew close. Every time he had a little too much to drink he'd suggest we go into business together and do something big. I always laughed the proposal off.
When Old Lu approached me on this occasion, I felt I couldn't refuse, especially because we were from the same hometown.
He told me that he had given Chang's family a heads up that if he and his friends were able to raise the amount of compensation, the extra portion would go to the people who helped out.
When I wrote flattering pieces about companies, cash gifts were common and I had no qualms accepting them, but when it came to working with folks who who were locked in a dispute with a certain business, payment was a tricky matter. One small misstep could land you on your back foot. Not to mention this particular matter concerned a death in a construction site mishap. I couldn't quite reconcile getting paid with my conscience.
I said I would try to help but couldn't promise anything.
Old Lu thought I was blowing him off and offered repeated assurances, saying he was personally overseeing negotiations and only working with people he trusted. All I had to do was step in as needed. He would take care of everything else.
2.
I met the relatives of the victim for the first time in the evening on the day after the accident, at an appointment that Old Lu set up.
The meeting comprised five or six people, which made for cramped quarters and mugginess in the air-conditioned hotel room.
There was the victim's wife, Auntie Liu, and their two children, as well as an elderly man with graying hair—the victim's oldest big brother. A young man sat next to the brother. Everyone got up and gave me a look-over when I entered the room.
Another man in his 50s was also present. He approached to give me a firm handshake. "You're the seasoned journalist, right? We've been waiting for you," he said most enthusiastically.
The man said his last name was Zhuang and that he was a relative of the victim. He said to call him Brother Zhuang.
Judging from his wardrobe, Brother Zhuang was a local official. His gaze oozed cunning and experience. I learned later that Brother Zhuang used to work at a government entity in his hometown, even serving in management. After taking early retirement a few years ago, he went into business in the local county seat while also commanding respect in his village. As the key liaison for the Chang family, his input carried weight. He was the one who asked Old Lu for a contact in the media.
Her eyes tinted red, Auntie Liu kept apologizing for imposing on us.
Brother Zhuang told me the Changs were going to demand a payout of 1.6 million yuan (US$220,531).
I ventured that that was a tall ask. Indeed, it turned out their bottom line was 800,000 yuan. The construction company had made an offer of 600,000 yuan. We would have to lobby for the additional 200,000 yuan. As for how to go about doing that, no one had a firm idea.
My game plan was clear. We would have to negotiate and apply pressure on the company at the same time on different fronts. Brother Zhuang threw me an approving glance. We were on the same page.
We agreed that night that we would not blockade the construction company's offices or target the firm aggressively, to avoid aggravating the standoff. There would be no prop coffins or protests out of respect for the deceased. We would avoid legal action lest a lawsuit became protracted and left the matter in limbo.
I estimated we could hit our target number in one to two weeks.
Old Lu's calculations figured that the construction company's final offer would yield each of us involved in the negotiations some 10,000 or 20,000 yuan after the Chang family was paid.
He also told me in confidence that Brother Zhuang would also be entitled to a cut because his business dealings often required cash payments to grease the wheels.
3.
The next day I got in touch with Deputy Section Chief Zhou of the city's construction bureau. Zhou's division was in charge of construction site safety. I had dealt with him quite frequently in the years leading up to the accident.
I thought that the matter would be smooth sailing, that Zhou could easily resolve the issue, but I was unexpectedly derailed.
Zhou had already received a report on the accident. The problem was that the construction site in question involved a power plant and therefore fell outside the purview of urban construction oversight. Zhou's division rarely intervened on similar matters.
I also asked about the construction company. It was a new firm. Zhou waved off the name, saying he didn't know of the company and hadn't dealt with it before.
Noticing that I seemed deflated, Zhou gave me a few tips instead. He had worked in construction oversight for 20-plus years and knew how construction companies functioned well, he said. If the press showed up and threatened to report their wrongdoing to the city government, vowing to expose their involvement and escalate the matter, the companies eventually backed down.
Zhou even gave me a pep talk, saying when it came to big corporations, you had to be bold with your demands. Just negotiate away, he said.
Before I left I said that the Chang family wanted to extend their extreme gratitude. Zhou said there was no need. There was no thanking to be done in a situation this, considering a family had lost a life, he said. All he could do was help where he could. Zhou said to contact him if anything came up and he'd be happy to brainstorm moves.
The next stop was the offices of the district government that had jurisdiction. District officials had set up a task force to handle fallout from the accident. When I identified myself, a Deputy Director Zhao showed up.
Zhao spoke cautiously. "I'm aware of the matter. It's being dealt with. We can't make any announcements before conclusions have been drawn," he said.
When I pressed further, Zhao let slip a progress update. The district government had decided to intervene in the issue, but protocol dictated that safety regulators had to rule on the nature of the accident first before other departments could get involved.
As for liability and compensation, because these were legal issues, the city's work safety bureau was unlikely to break its silence. I didn't know the head of the work safety bureau personally, so I was probably going to get a canned response if I asked.
Still, Zhao told me to rest easy and pursue negotiations with the construction company first. In the end, the district government would have its say and he promised the matter would be resolved justly.
I briefed the Chang family at their hotel that night. While everyone found Zhao's comments comforting, worries remained. Officials were bound to spew sweet talk. Who knew how things would actually play out in the end?
Old Lu argued that we had merely put out feelers and that we may need to follow up. Perhaps we needed to "show our affection" for the officials involved ahead of time to guarantee the right outcome, he said. Brother Zhuang was undecided, saying in his own personal experience when he was asked for a favor that he could or wanted to grant, he would simply do it. If it was a tricky ask or he didn't want to do the favor, a bribe may not make a difference. Not to mention the gift-giving game pitted big business on one side against ordinary citizens on the other. The mismatch was glaring. He suggested that at that stage we talked a big game, invoking our connections when needed.
As for thanking the relevant officials, Zhuang said we were all acting on behalf of friends and relationships were at stake. If certain officials had stepped in, we had to show our gratitude, he said, telling the rest of us that he was well aware of street code.
4.
Brother Zhuang strutted his stuff in the negotiations that followed.
The Changs had already held several rounds talks with representatives of the construction company. One executive was in his early 30s and held a firm line every time. A picture of condescension, his most common refrain was: "Our higher ups have already reached a decision on this matter." The other representative was a mild-mannered man in his 50s, yet he was always noncommittal when it came to compensation, saying he had to check with his superiors first.
The older executive even played the sympathy card. By year's end most construction sites were wrapping up their projects and getting ready for the Lunar New Year break, he said, only for their firm to have the bad luck of stumbling upon a deadly industrial accident. Theirs wasn't a big company to begin with, the older man argued, claiming that their owner had already taken out a series of loans at the outset to cover construction costs and was short on cash.
The major source of disagreement was the way each side arrived at the amount of the payout. The construction company based its calculations on lower estimates, using the local minimum wage to compute the deceased's monthly income. Meanwhile, Brother Zhuang and the Chang family's calculations factored in lost income, emotional damage and family support generously, with their target number exceeding the company's by several tens of thousands of yuan.
When negotiations resumed, Brother Zhuang let it rip. "If we don't resolve this matter soon, we won't be able to keep it under wraps any more. Are you desperate to get the attention of local officials?" he said. He proceeded to name officials from the city government's construction bureau and the local district government, identifying them by full name and division and giving their exact office locations down to floor and room number. Zhuang said he had already reached out to them through former classmates and friends from the same hometown and was prepared to raise a stink.
An awkward silence followed. The younger company representative froze, then dropped his attitude and dialed back his tone, saying that he and his colleague could settle the matter on the spot and that there was no need to alarm local officials.
It was me who wrote down the names and details of the government officials on a cheat sheet I prepared for Brother Zhuang. The tactic came in quite handy.
In the next two rounds of talks, the opposition became more receptive to our suggestions, even consulting their bosses on finer points immediately. In the end, the construction company agreed to up their payout by 50,000 yuan—provided we were willing to sign a deal right away. The two company officials also promised to lobby for another additional 20,000 or 30,000 yuan.
The two officials even feigned total disclosure. "Considering you've been dealt a tough hand and that you have connections in government, we'll be perfectly honest. For an accident like this, the most we're willing to pay is 700,000 yuan," they said.
In response, Brother Zhuang lowered our ask to 1.3 million as a sign of good faith. That figure was suggested as a baseline by Deputy Section Chief Zhou from the city's construction bureau. Families of the victims of a mining accident in Jiangxi Province in 2015 were paid 1.3 million yuan each.
The company representatives said that was too big an amount for them to authorize and that they would have to run the number by their superiors.
The response was encouraging. After the two executives left, both Brother Zhuang and Old Lu expressed confidence that we would be able to hit the 1 million mark at the very least.
Old Lu paid me lip service, saying I was due credit for getting in touch with the government officials, which served notice we were no pushovers. He then praised Brother Zhuang's negotiating skills, quipping: "It's a different story when Brother Zhuang asserts himself."
Brother Zhuang reveled in the attention. "These people are so mediocre. Back in the day, I would have chewed them out much earlier," he said.
He proceeded to recall moments of triumph and highlights from the negotiating table working under his old boss. He had enjoyed his share of glory days, he said, before lamenting he was now a has-been.
Old Lu seized the moment to note that if we secured a 1 million yuan settlement and paid the Chang family a promised 800,000, the three of us would also split a hefty sum. We would have to spread the wealth accordingly to make sure folks felt our gratitude, he said.
Brother Zhuang was in full agreement. "Naturally," he mumbled.
5.
We didn't hear back on our new ask for another three or four days.
The mood in our camp saw some subtle changes during this period. Word of a deadly accident on a construction site was bound to travel fast. It wasn't long before more distant relatives and fellow villagers found out, which led to the occasional call seeking confirmation or offering condolences.
With Auntie Liu on the road, her 70-year-old mother-in-law was left to fend for herself at home. The relatives who kept an eye on the elderly mother wanted to keep her in the dark, but they could only contain the news for so long. After Mom found out, she was reduced to tears every day, clamoring to make the trip to see her son's body. Unable to pacify her, the relatives badgered Auntie Liu with multiple calls a day.
As days went by and the negotiations dragged on, the relatives became impatient, even threatening to send a contingent to blockade the construction site and local government offices.
In the end no one showed. The relatives were just bluffing. The same people were invited to join the initial group that traveled to the provincial capital after the accident occurred. Once they heard about the need for a two-week stay and involvement in talks with the construction company and government officials, they all shied away, saying they were out of their league. Such a matter called for an authority figure, they said, which eventually led to Brother Zhuang's inclusion.
There were also differences among the group camped out at the hotel. The victim's oldest paternal uncle was conflicted. One one hand, he'd fume: "How can the construction company not offer a proper payout when something of this magnitude goes down?" On the other, he'd venture: "If you ask me, we're OK as long as we land in the right range. The earlier we bury my nephew the better."
Also, the accident happened near the end of the lunar calendar year. Lunar New Year is a big deal in rural villages, with relatives visiting each other for the entire new year period. If the issue of compensation wasn't resolved before Lunar New Year, it would be impossible to mark the occasion as usual.
Caught between the competing factions was Auntie Liu.
Old Lu told me in private that the Chang family wad divided into two camps—the victim's siblings on one side and the wife's family on the other. When the payout happened, they also had to factor in the elderly parents, the children and the issue of whether Auntie Liu should remarry. It was still up in the air as to how the compensation would be split. At the time Brother Zhuang was taking charge of negotiations--yet he was a relative of Auntie Liu. The victim's eldest paternal uncle and nephew were also on hand, ostensibly to help, but in reality they were also there to protect the interests of that side of the family.
During the time I spent at the hotel those few days, I had the chance to chat with Auntie Liu at length twice. Eyes constantly bloodshot, she usually leaned against her bedboard. She spoke softly and the tears came pouring down whenever she recalled past hardship.
Auntie Liu and her husband were set up by a matchmaker in their hometown. Their main source of income in recent years was her husband's salary from wage labor in the city. Now that her husband was gone, the family lacked a breadwinner and their livelihood was in jeopardy.
Once she asked me: "The seasoned journalist you are, you must be quite worldly. Are accidents like this common? How does one typically handle a situation like this?"
My mind instantly summoned scenes from the aftermath of industrial accidents I had covered over the years. There were the two cousins who suffocated to death underground. The fellow villagers who had landed them the job shriveled into human balls while waiting outside the ER and slapped themselves on the head non-stop.
Post-accident payout negotiations were often a marathon affair that were easy to end in limbo. In extreme cases that involved layers of subcontractors, no one stepped up to take responsibility, resulting in an never-ending game of passing the buck. The most tragic case in my memory saw several relatives of a victim kneeling in front of the construction site in blistering heat, protest signs over their heads. It was a devastating sight.
But I didn't share any of this with Auntie Liu. All I said was that negotiations were ongoing and to rest assured that the final offer wouldn't be unreasonable. Even a payout of 800,000 yuan wasn't bad, I said. That could buy them a small two-bedroom apartment locally or a bigger flat in the county seat near their hometown.
Auntie Liu responded with a quick wave of her hand, saying she didn't consider herself so lucky. She wouldn't dream about buying property in the city, she said. Even if she did she wouldn't be able to afford the interest on her loans. Now that her husband was dead, she was an outsider in the village and within the clan, she said. How could she avoid being bullied? In all honesty, she would count her blessings if what was left of her family could live in peace in her husband's hometown, she said.
The comment broke my heart. After pondering her situation some more, I said: "When you get the payout, regardless of the amount, don't get tangled up with your relatives. Don't lend money casually. Hang on tight to the payment. The rest of your life is at stake. This is your lifeline. Don't squander it."
Auntie Liu responded with a firm nod.
6.
Several of us stuck around at the hotel the afternoon we were due to hear back on our latest ask, smoking and chitchatting. The TV was on but no one bothered watching.
We finally got a call from the construction company at around 8 or 9 p.m. The executive who called said their bosses were adamant about sticking to their original offer of 700,000 yuan, on account of the fact that a payout of 1.3 million yuan had never been made locally.
Everyone took the setback hard now that we were back to square one. Old Lu let out a cool grunt, muttering: "They really leave us no choice but to go all out."
Both Brother Zhuang and Old Lu characterized the construction company's steadfastness as a strategic move to draw out our bottom line. Thinking back to Auntie Liu's comments the other day, I started to secretly panic as well.
Recalling Deputy Section Chief Zhou's advice, we concluded we needed to turn to the press after all. Based on past experience, whenever there was a construction site mishap and the company in question and regulators were playing pass the buck, media coverage made the difference. When journalists were paying attention and a negative discourse formed online and in print, government officials often issued public reprimands, which created enough pressure to force the construction company to back down.
Unfortunately in this case we were dealt with bad timing. A politically important event was being held locally, which made it hard for critical coverage to see the light of day, not to mention the fact that I was assisting with negotiations in a private capacity and hadn't briefed my editors. Had I submitted a formal story proposal, by the time it had gone through the necessary levels of vetting and the idea actually went to press, another few weeks to a month would have gone by. We could not afford the delay.
I reached out to contacts at the local TV station. They said they were happy to show up with their cameras, but just like me, they couldn't guarantee the story would run.
Faced with these developments, Brother Zhuang was unsure about his next move. He wondered if alerting the press would backfire if their stories didn't end up being published or aired.
An even bigger worry was that media coverage would undo the trust and progress we had already built, he said. That would be disastrous.
I was quite upset when Brother Zhuang vented these concerns, although I didn't show my displeasure. I understood where he was coming from, wanting the media attention but also giving me the leeway to allow my colleagues the final say on publication. I was used to dealing with this dilemma.
It was common for victims to ask journalists to pull their stories after their grievances are answered. Verbal threats and boycotts aren't unheard of.
Brother Zhuang's hesitance hit a nerve with Old Lu. "What are you going accomplish fearing this and that?" he fumed. "When it comes to matters like this, you just have to keep up the pressure until they pay up. There is no other way."
Brother Zhuang went silent briefly before asking me whether I could pay a visit to our friends in local government again.
After giving the suggestion some thought, I refused.
7.
I helped out in another way though.
Through a contact in the publicity department in the local district government, I got the number for the deputy head of the district in charge of construction and passed it onto Brother Zhuang. I suggested relatives of the victim make contact or pay a visit to the official in person to make their case directly.
I explained: "I've never dealt with this deputy district head before. If I approach him in the capacity of a journalist, he'll likely just follow protocol and go through the motions. It's easier for him to intervene if he hears straight from the victim's family."
Brother Zhuang suggested that Auntie Liu and the victim's eldest brother make the trip. He said he wasn't the right person because he wasn't a direct relation and therefore had no official standing. The real reason is that some of the relatives had expressed their dissatisfaction with him in recent days. Brother Zhuang wanted to scale down his involvement and let the relatives run into dead ends themselves.
At this point Auntie Liu and the relatives exchanged uncertain glances, then looked to me for guidance.
I told Auntie Liu not to worry. It was a simple visit to test the waters, I said. They had nothing to lose, not to mention they might provoke a response that may prove useful in negotiations.
Auntie Liu seemed to find my words a bit reassuring.
In reality, the visit was easier said than done. I later learned from Old Lu that no one ended up receiving Auntie Liu and company when they arrived at the offices of the district government. They ended up waiting in the reception room for 1 or 2 hours and leaving.
When the group got back to the hotel, Auntie Liu broke down in tears. *We're just running around blind here. We still need your help after all," she said.
Brother Zhuang was delighted by the outcome, although he went to pains to be diplomatic. He called the number I provided in full view of Auntie Liu and the relatives. When no one answered, he composed a carefully worded text message that described our efforts and how the construction company was passing the buck and lowballing us. When his phone indicated the message had been received, he breathed a sigh of relief and said: "Now you can rest easy, no? Next I will follow up with a visit in person."
8.
The text message ended up having a concrete impact. There was a new development the next afternoon.
The construction company had one of its negotiators call. He said his bosses were now demanding a speedy resolution of the matter, even making the off-handed comment: "Who knew how far your influence extends?"
As for the payout amount, the executive still wouldn't back down. He said the amount had already been approved and that at most they had a leeway of another 30,000 to 50,000 yuan to cover funeral costs and humanitarian considerations.
That certainly didn't fly. Brother Zhuang got back in touch with my friends at the TV station.
Auntie Liu kept stuttering in front of the camera, running out of breath after a mere sentence or two. Not wanting to see her make a fool of herself, I cut the interview short and had someone escort her aside for some rest.
In contrast, Brother Zhuang was eloquent, putting forward the Chang family's demands in his capacity as a relative of a victim. Yet after the taping, he kept renegotiating the terms of his appearance. He was still a civil servant and he was planning on going into business down the road, he explained. Might the editor of the segment air his voice but not show his face?
My friends responded with a wry smile but didn't say anything.
Journalists from the TV station lingered at the entrance to the construction site and in the lobby of the offices of the construction company. They didn't manage to land an interview with the owner of the company, but their mere presence set off alarms. The negotiators called back, saying they were already working on a new deal and there was no need to make another play. If things got out of hand there was nothing they could do, they said.
That was just talk, but that same evening the construction company did invite our lead negotiator, Brother Zhuang that is, to a face-to-face meeting the next day to finalize the payout package.
There was a steady light drizzle the day of Brother Zhuang's meeting. The victim's relatives camped out at the hotel. The rooms were extremely stuffy but cooled down significantly after we opened the windows and let in a cold draft.
Perhaps it was a hunch that good news was forthcoming, but everyone was much more relaxed that day. People began swapping personal stories.
The relatives mentioned how with rural villagers flocking to the city to work, their kids often tagged along. Attending school in the city, they gradually grew into urbanites. Auntie Liu's two children were still in school—her daughter was in senior high and her son junior high. Gleaning from the conversation that day, the daughter was a decent student and may perform well enough in the college entrance exam to secure a spot at a first-tier university, which would pave the way for her to settle down and buy a flat in the city. That prospect brought a rare glow to Auntie Liu's face.
Talk then moved onto evil construction company bosses who were slow to settle back pay, with someone lamenting that the reality was such that the focus quickly shifted to landing the next construction gig. As long as you were willing to exert yourself, you were bound to earn an income.
The conversation was interrupted by a call for Auntie Liu. She spoke softly but I could hear her say: "Soon. Soon. We should hear back either today or tomorrow."
Brother Zhuang was mobbed when he returned to the hotel. He took a sip of water and surveyed the crowd before breaking the news. The final offer was in and we could rest easy, he said.
The construction company came in with a proposed payout of 800,000 yuan, saying it was their bottom line. That figure was decided after the intervention of the district government and was about to be made public.
It took some time for everyone to process the news, but Brother Zhuang had already plunged into a self-aggrandizing review of his negotiating prowess, a blow-by-blow of how he single-handedly forced the construction company into raising their offer from 700,000 to 800,000. He made it sound like he was the one with home court advantage.
Reaction to the new offer was split.
Auntie Liu was inclined to take the money and walk, to prevent the process from being dragged out even longer. She wanted to head home after her recent trials.
Meanwhile, Old Lu was on knife's edge. The Chang family had already hit their target number. There was no need for further talks. But the final offer as it stood didn't leave margin for kickbacks.
"We're just one step away. Considering the momentum we have built, we've gotta take them to the cleaners," he fumed.
The victim's eldest brother, an elderly man who had earlier expressed a desire to wrap things up soon and go home, appeared to be swayed by Old Lu's comment, displaying some hesitance as he nodded in agreement.
Seeing that opinions diverged, Brother Zhuang said he would side with the majority, although he was clearly upset.
Cigarette smoke swirled in the room.
When I arrived, Auntie Liu approached to ask for my take. "What do you say? Should I take the money now or not?"
I was torn. On one hand, I wanted the Changs to tie up loose ends and bury their lost son soon. It would be too draining to continue bargaining. On the other hand, I suspected the construction company was playing coy and was in fact willing to up their offer a bit more. As long as the Changs didn't sign, there was still room for negotiation.
Auntie Liu gazed outside, got ready to speak but held her tongue. Eventually she sighed and said: "Even if we can get more money, we won't be able to talk them down!"
9.
The next day representatives from the construction company and several employees of the district government came to pick up Auntie Liu. Before her departure, we gave her a pep talk, encouraging her to cry generously at the meeting because it may lead to a higher payout.
Auntie Liu strained to flash a smile. The government workers brought her back in just over an hour. She had signed a deal for 800,000 yuan.
Wearing an apologetic expression, Auntie Liu kept blaming herself. Officials from both the construction company and the district government said at the meeting that if she refused to sign, the matter would be referred to court, Auntie Liu recalled. In that case, the court's ruling on the amount of compensation would be final and she could expect a wait of at least a year, if not 2 or 3 years.
Everyone went silent. The fact is we all knew the meeting would end that way. It was a tall ask to expect Auntie Liu to renegotiate.
I learned from Old Lu the payout was wired the day after the deal was signed. Auntie Liu and company set off immediately after confirming payment.
It had been a full two weeks since the accident. The end of the lunar year was fast approaching.
10.
In my subsequent dealings with Old Lu, he didn't bring up the payout for the longest time. Then he apologized profusely on one occasion when we met for a meal, saying he owed me one.
He recapped the entire sequence of events for me, mentioning many details I wasn't aware of. I finally began to make sense of the big picture.
It turns out Brother Zhuang called Old Lu after returning from the final negotiation session. He said he didn't think he was going to profit from the situation and was pulling out.
Brother Zhuang said the mood at the negotiating table that day was actually quite relaxed, perhaps because both sides sensed they were near a deal. The entire group actually dined together afterward. During the meal, one of the representatives from the construction company let down his guard. Alcohol emanating from his breath, the executive told Brother Zhuang: "If you guys are smart enough to work your connections, how can we not do the same? Do you think we landed such a huge contract without some decent connections? If you want to play hardball, I wonder who's going to go down first."
Old Lu felt that the momentum was actually in their favor and Brother Zhuang was in a prime position to lobby for a higher payout that would cover our kickbacks. The two argued over the phone.
Old Lu bemoaned the fact we never saw a single cent of the promised kickbacks. Brother Zhuang was the chief negotiator throughout the entire process. Who knows if he took a bribe from the construction company? Old Lu mused. Why else would he call it quits?
I was at a loss of words after hanging up with Old Lu.
My mind recalled images of the dimly lit hotel room and the swirling smoke. I thought of Auntie Liu. I wondered how she was faring.