Chapter 5: Resignation
Chapter 5: Resignation
Upon hearing the words "resignation," Zhang Xiaofang was momentarily stunned. When she came to, Gao Yun had already left the elevator and entered his office.
Watching his retreating figure, Zhang Xiaofang murmured, "What on earth has gotten into this kid?"
...
Gao Yun sat before his computer and casually found a resignation letter template online. After a minute of tweaking, he printed it out and took the report to the office of Li Dapeng, a high-ranking official in the municipal committee.
“Knock knock.”
“Come in.”
Li Dapeng, 34 years old, wore gold-rimmed glasses. His deep voice and slightly receding hairline gave him a mature, authoritative air. Yet, as a man under 35, he was warm and cheerful by nature, approachable without any airs of superiority, always smiling and easygoing both at work and in private.
Gao Yun pushed open the door. Li Dapeng adjusted his glasses as he scrutinized some documents. Gao Yun placed the resignation letter on the desk, then took a seat on the adjacent sofa and smiled, “Brother Peng, I recently hit a financial windfall. I’m here to resign today.”
Li Dapeng’s hand trembled slightly as he held his pen, disregarding the scribbled words. He looked up at Gao Yun, then back at the letter, frowning. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, absolutely.”
Gao Yun’s expression was sincere. “Thank you for the care and support you’ve given me over these years.”
This was heartfelt. By regulation, civil servants on staff positions, like career officials, are prohibited from engaging in business or part-time jobs. Although this rule primarily targets those at or above the section chief level to prevent abuse of power and ensure full dedication to their duties, even lower-level clerks technically must abide by it. If leadership chose to enforce this strictly, Gao Yun would have no recourse.
Fortunately, Li Dapeng was an enlightened leader who understood the difficulties faced by his subordinates and often turned a blind eye.
“What are your plans after resigning?” Li Dapeng asked with genuine curiosity, then advised, “Given the current situation, whether it’s starting a business or finding another job, it’s not an ideal time. If you want to resign, maybe wait until this period passes.”
He took the letter, made as if to tuck it into a drawer, and said, “How about this? I’ll hold onto your resignation for now. I’ll grant you a week’s leave. Go home, relax, drink with friends, talk heart to heart with family, and then reconsider. After all, it’s a stable job, and you’re still young—don’t be too hasty.”
Gao Yun felt touched but his resolve remained firm. He smiled and said, “Thank you. I know you mean well, but to be honest, I recently made a fortune trading futures. I won’t have to worry about money for the rest of my life.”
Li Dapeng was stunned. “Several million?”
“Over fifty million.”
Gao Yun refrained from exaggerating; he believed this sum was convincing enough, and indeed it was.
Hearing this, Li Dapeng immediately placed the resignation letter back on his desk and stood up in surprise. “You kid! Your luck is unbelievable!”
“Well, even if it weren’t you, I’d want to resign and retire after making that much money.”
In Hushi, a county-level city where the average monthly wage barely exceeded three thousand yuan and housing cost about six thousand yuan per square meter, Gao Yun’s fifty million yuan was genuine financial freedom.
“I’ll call Cui Qing over shortly to handle your paperwork. It won’t take long.”
“Thank you very much!”
Li Dapeng couldn’t help but ask out of curiosity, “With that kind of money, what are your plans? I’m telling you, don’t let impulse drive you to start a business right now. The times are tough.”
“Starting a business or work-related matters are off the table for now,” Gao Yun replied. “I want to take a break, buy things I couldn’t afford before, do what I love, have fun, get fit, dance, learn guitar, sing.”
Li Dapeng nodded and smiled, “Ah, how carefree! I envy you at your age. You’ll definitely spend some money, but don’t be reckless. Fifty million sounds like a lot, but you can burn through it fast.”
“You should still have some ambition; otherwise, you’ll waste your time.”
“You’re talented and strong-willed. I believe you understand these truths.”
After chatting a bit more, mostly with Li Dapeng’s good-natured advice, feeling he had said all he could, he picked up the phone and called Cui Qing, who was in charge of personnel.
“Cui Qing, come in.”
Cui Qing, in her early thirties, tall and shapely with delicate features, always dressed impeccably, was well-liked within the Youth League committee and got along well with Gao Yun.
Li Dapeng handed over the resignation letter. “Gao Yun wants to resign. Please process his paperwork and expedite it.”
“Ah?” Cui Qing’s surprise was evident as she looked at Gao Yun sitting on the sofa.
“I just heard from Sister Zhang that you’re resigning. I thought you were joking. You’re really going through with it?”
Gao Yun nodded. “Sorry for the trouble, Sister Cui.”
“No trouble at all. Let’s go; I’ll get started on your paperwork.”
They left the secretary’s office and headed toward the personnel department.
The Youth League committee had only eleven members, so news spread quickly. When it came to someone resigning, it was even bigger news. While Gao Yun and Li Dapeng were talking, nearly all their colleagues had already heard.
A few close friends waited in the corridor to confirm the news.
Seeing Cui Qing and Gao Yun emerge together from the secretary’s office, they accepted the resignation as fact and followed them into the personnel section.
“Really leaving?”
Almost everyone looked astonished. Though the job paid little, it was stable with light duties and plenty of leave.
“Yes, I’m really leaving. Take care, everyone. When you have time, let’s get together again.”
Li Shuo, a colleague close in age to Gao Yun, looked troubled. “We will, but with you gone, your workload’s probably going to fall on me. You owe me a dinner.”
Gao Yun laughed heartily. “No problem.”
Zhang Xiaofang expressed regret. “Why resign? This job doesn’t stop you from doing other things. Did something happen?”
Gao Yun figured the news would spread soon enough and was direct. “I made over fifty million trading futures recently. I have no desire to keep working.”
Everyone fell silent for a moment, then their voices rose an octave.
“Is it true?”
“You’re amazing!”
“Futures? Was it crude oil?”
Others asked about the platform Gao Yun used, how much principal he invested, and what leverage he employed. Gao Yun had ready answers, partially true and partially fabricated, to handle the questions.
“Xiao Yun, what are your plans next?”
Cui Qing asked casually while sorting files.
Gao Yun, now free from his job, felt happier than he expected.
“From today on, I’ll be a happy idler, no longer worrying about work, food, or vegetables, no longer feeding horses or chopping wood.”
“From today on, I’ll work out, sing, play instruments, dance, travel the world, and occasionally study things that interest me.”
“I’ll be a carefree soul.”
...
By noon, Gao Yun had completed his resignation procedures, eaten lunch at the government cafeteria, greeted every colleague, and arranged a farewell dinner for Saturday night.
Then, he packed several certificates of honor and awards into a file, and without looking back, left the government building where he had worked for four years.
Though he felt some attachment and nostalgia for the familiar people and things, it was only that—and nothing more.
(End of chapter)