From Tiny Workshop to Star Factory

My uncle’s booming voice made my ears ring. “The machine’s down, and the whole line is stalled.” “Get back here now.

Don’t put on airs.” I was standing by the dorm window at my new company and looked down at my employee badge.

A monthly salary of twentyeight thousand, full benefits, and project bonuses on top.

I said flatly, “I can’t go back.” There was a pause on the other end, then he exploded. “Can’t go back?” “You’ve got some nerve now, huh?” “Who let you stay at that factory for three years?” “Without me, you’d have starved to death already!” I laughed.

Three years ago, he had been blocking my front door. He cried that the factory was going under, said I was his own nephew, and that he trusted nobody but me.

Now it sounded like he had been the one feeding me. “Uncle, didn’t you say it yourself?

I’m just an employee.” “When a machine breaks, call a repairman.” The next second, my cousin Eric’s voice cut in. “Evan, what are you acting like?

Those machines at the factory, weren’t you just messing around with them all the time?” “You really think you’re some kind of expert?” “My dad wants you back because he’s giving you face.” That father and son pair were perfect.

One played the good cop, the other the bad cop. After three years, I knew them better than anyone. Eric was two years older than me and never got past middle school.

Over the years at the factory, besides driving around for fun, he mostly took clients to massage parlors. The orders I brought in, he signed off on.

The processes I improved, he snapped a picture of and posted on social media with the caption, “Young people need to be bold and go after it.” Last year, when the factory expanded, I pulled seven straight allnighters.

I turned several secondhand old machines into a linked production line. Eric came through the workshop once. He stood off to the side and filmed a video.

The title was: “Factory heir of the ‘90s leads an old plant through transformation and upgrading.” It got twenty thousand likes, and the comments were full of people praising how young and promising he was.

He didn’t reply to a single one, because he couldn’t even understand how the machine worked. “Evan.” Eric’s voice got louder again. “Don’t push your luck.” “Believe me, if you don’t come back, I’ll make sure you can’t survive in this industry.” I almost laughed from anger. “Try me.” There was silence on the other end for a second, probably because he hadn’t expected that answer.

Then my uncle snatched the phone back. This time, he didn’t bother pretending anymore.

His voice was cold and hard. “Evan, I’ll say this one last time.” “Your mom’s still back in your hometown, right?” “Leave some room for yourself.

Don’t make this too ugly.” My face darkened instantly. He was threatening me, using my mom to threaten me.

Three years ago, when he begged me to come back, he had shown up with two cartons of milk and kept calling me “brother” over and over.

Now that he had turned on me, he was pulling this crap. “Try touching her.” My voice wasn’t loud. But the other end went strangely quiet.

He probably realized I was really pissed off. But in the next second, Eric jumped back in. “Oh, so now you’re freaking out?

Then get your ass back here.” “Stop pretending to be so high and mighty out there.

How long can a big company really keep you?” “You bookworms are nothing without my family’s factory.” I hung up. I thought once I left, that would be the end of it.

I had really overestimated them. This family wasn’t turning on me. They just thought I was born to work for them. My mom called me. “Son, your uncle came by.

He said you left him a pile of garbage to deal with.” “If you don’t come back, they’re not leaving.” “They also said if the factory has losses, they’ll use our house as collateral.”

By the time I got home, the front was already packed with people. My uncle was sitting on my front step, smoking like he had come to collect a debt.

My aunt sat on the ground, slapping her thighs and crying, calling me a heartless ingrate. Eric was holding his phone up and livestreaming, pointing it hard at my front door.

My mom was standing in the yard, her face pale. She wasn’t scared. She was angry. When she saw me come back, Eric shoved the camera toward me first. “Everybody take a look.

This is my gifted cousin. The factory had trouble, and he ran off.” “Now he’s not even taking care of his own mother.” I didn’t even lift my eyelids.

I just asked my mom first. “Mom, are you okay?” My mom nodded. That put me at ease, and I turned to my uncle.

He stubbed his cigarette out on the ground and sprang to his feet. “You broke the factory and then just walked away like nothing happened?” I laughed. “You threw my paycheck at my face and told me to get lost.” “What, now you don’t remember?” My uncle shouted at the top of his lungs. “I told you to get lost because I was mad!

Who knew you’d be this ruthless and turn right around and wreck the factory!” Eric jumped in immediately. “If you didn’t have something to hide, why did the machine break right after you got kicked out?

Are you really going to say you didn’t leave something behind on purpose?” He said it so confidently. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought I had actually done something.

I didn’t waste any words. I just opened the video. The first clip was Eric standing in front of the control panel, pressing random buttons.

The second was him ripping off the parameter sheet on the cabinet door. The third was him barking at the workers to back off because he knew what he was doing.

I had been working there for three years and got along well with the factory workers. I didn’t even have to say anything. Someone had already filmed it and sent it to me.

Eric’s face turned the color of liver in an instant. He lunged for my phone. I swung my arm, and Eric stumbled back two steps.

When my uncle saw his son lose face, he rushed up and tried to shove me.

I didn’t budge an inch and just slapped the police report receipt right in front of him. “The police are on their way.

Blocking our door, threatening an elder, spreading lies—I’ll add up every single charge with you.” My aunt stopped crying at once.

My uncle still wanted to talk tough. “I’m disciplining my own nephew.

What can the police do about that?” I almost laughed from anger. “The day you threw me out, why didn’t you say I was your nephew?” “The day you took the clients I brought in and put Eric’s name on them, why didn’t you say I was your nephew?” “The day you stood in front of the whole factory and said I was just a dog you used to guard your machines, why didn’t you say I was your nephew?” With those words, everyone watching started looking at my uncle’s family differently.

My uncle’s face was completely gone. He reached out and tried to grab my collar. Just then, the police car arrived. I didn’t argue a single word.

I handed over the videos, the recordings, and the footage of them blocking our door.

After watching everything, even the police officer’s face darkened. “The machines in your factory are broken, go file a repair report.” “Blocking someone’s home and threatening an elderly woman—who taught you that?” Before they left, the police made it very clear.

If they came back to cause trouble, they’d be taken away on the spot. My uncle swallowed all his anger and had no choice but to leave with them. I knew this wasn’t over.

That night, Old Tom from the factory called. “Evan, something big has happened.” “Your uncle went crazy in the workshop, saying you got kicked out because you weren’t convinced and deliberately set a trap.” “He also said you stole the factory’s process and clients, and that he’d mess up your job and force you back to work.” I nodded. “It’s fine.

Tom, help me pull the surveillance footage and send it to me.”

Early the next morning, just as I got to the company, the conference room exploded. My uncle was sitting opposite the head seat, one leg crossed arrogantly over the other.

Eric stood beside him, holding up his phone, livestream still on. When he saw me walk in, my uncle smiled first. “You came at the perfect time.

Let’s clear this up in front of your boss today.” He slapped a thick stack of papers onto the table. “Evan worked in my factory for three years.

He ate my food and lived under my roof.” “I bought the machines and laid the lines myself.” “Everything he knows was learned in my factory.

Now that the factory is down, he has to go back and fix it.” “Fix it for free, and keep fixing it until it’s done.” Eric jumped in right away. “If he won’t come back, fine.

I’ve got the livestream on.” “I’ll say right now that he stole the skills, forgot gratitude, and turned on the family.” “Let your company see what kind of trash they hired.” That father and son pair were singing in perfect harmony.

They were here to shake me down and force me to bow my head.

When my uncle saw that I still wasn’t saying anything, he got even bolder. “Without my factory, you couldn’t even touch a machine.” “Now you’ve learned a few things and suddenly grown a spine?

Dream on.” “Today, you either come back with me.” “Or I’ll make sure your name gets dragged through the mud.” I set my bag down and pulled out a file.

It contained three patent acceptance notices. I pushed them onto the table. My uncle looked down and froze first. Eric leaned in too. Inventor: Evan.

Filing dates: all during those three years I’d worked at the factory.

My uncle stared at the papers, his lips twitching. “What… what kind of crap is this?” I smiled. “Didn’t you keep saying the machines were yours and the technology was yours too?” “Then take a look.

Why is my name on these?” Eric panicked. “So what if your name is on them?” “You made them while working in my family’s factory!” “That makes them ours!” The legal guy finally looked up.

He adjusted his glasses and said only one sentence. “No agreement, no transfer, no confirmation of compensation.” “The patents and the process default to the inventor.” One sentence, and my uncle’s face changed completely. “He worked in my factory.

Anything he made should belong to me!” I looked at him and spoke slowly. “Didn’t you keep saying I was just an employee?

You didn’t even sign a full labor contract with me.” “And now you want to say these things are yours?” My uncle opened his mouth but couldn’t say a word.

Eric still tried to hold the line. “Even if they’re yours, so what?

The factory has been using them all these years!” I nodded. “You finally got to the point.” I pushed the last document over to them. It wasn’t a patent.

It was a legal opinion on infringement from the legal department. It spelled it out clearly: Unauthorized, continuous use of patented processes and control programs.

Injunction, preservation, and compensation claims may be filed. My uncle’s hand started shaking. Eric snatched the file and his face went white too.

Today, they hadn’t come to corner me. They had walked straight into a knife. Yesterday they were still forcing me to come back and fix the machines for free.

Today they finally learned that even how that line worked belonged to me. The more they used it, the bigger the problem got.

My uncle was completely panicking. “Evan, don’t go crazy.

We’re family.” “Your uncle was just anxious earlier and said the wrong thing.” The legal guy turned the laptop around and pushed it toward me.

On the screen were two drafted documents. One was a lawyer’s infringement notice.

The other was an application for asset preservation. “Engineer Evan, it’s your call.” “Do we send the notice first, or go straight for the preservation order and lock down his line?”