Scenario:當婉蓉提出應將錯誤造成的溢領獎金退回時, 所有董事都沉默了...
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當婉蓉提出應將錯誤造成的溢領獎金退回時, 所有董事都沉默了...
Wanrong Li
She is the wife of a deceased worker and the guardian of his family. She is determined, humble, and resilient. Wanrong discovered that her late husband's company had wrongly given her a large bonus instead of his widow benefits. Despite the unexpected wealth, she chose to return it, suggesting that the money should be given to other deserving workers. Her selflessness and bravery in confronting the board members led to a change in their attitude toward employees.
Liu Guang
He is a board member of Jingwen Corporation and an old friend of Wanrong's late husband. He is supportive, loyal, and empathetic. Liu Guang stood by Wanrong during her confrontation with the board, offering her his protection and understanding. His loyalty to Wanrong's late husband was evident as he chose to align himself with Wanrong against the corporation's officials. His presence provided emotional support and solidarity in Wanrong's time of need.
Wanrong's Late Husband
He was a worker at Jingwen Corporation before his untimely death. He is not directly present but left a significant impact on Wanrong and the corporation. He was hardworking, kindhearted, and leaves behind a legacy. His death created a financial challenge for Wanrong, but his employer's response showed little support. Wanrong's memories of her husband drove her to interact with the board members and demand justice for other workers like her late husband.
When I suggested that the erroneously disbursed bonuses should be returned, all the board members fell silent.
Liu Guang was the first to speak up.
"Ms. Li, are you sure you want to do this?"
"Do I have a choice?"
I asked.
"If I don't speak up, who will? My husband is dead. If he were alive, he would definitely not stand for this kind of thing. If there is one thing I can do for him now, it is to make sure that the company pays its workers what is owed to them."
Liu Guang looked at me, his eyes filled with emotion.
"Your husband would be proud of you," he said.
"I'm glad someone thinks that," I said.
"But I'm not doing this for praise. I am doing this because it is the right thing to do. If there is one thing I learned from my husband, it is that. He was a good man. He worked hard and he was fair to everyone. That is the kind of person he was."
I paused, taking a deep breath before continuing.
"I know my husband is dead and there is nothing that can bring him back," I said.
"But I can still make sure that his company is run the way he would have wanted it to be. And that means doing what is right, even if it is difficult."
Liu Guang rose from his seat.
His chair scraped against the polished floor.
He walked to the center of the boardroom and positioned himself between me and the row of stern faces.
His shoulders were squared as he addressed them.
"This is not a good look for us," he said.
"It reflects poorly on our integrity as a company."
The other board members shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.
They exchanged glances with each other, but no one spoke up.
Zhang Jian's expression remained impassive, but his fingers drummed steadily against the mahogany table.
Wu Zhihao, who was standing by the door, hastily scribbled down some notes in his book.
Liu Guang's voice grew firmer as he continued speaking.
"We have all seen how this has played out for our competitors," he said.
"Companies that have refused to return erroneously disbursed bonuses have faced severe backlash from the public. They have been accused of being greedy and uncaring. And in some cases, they have even faced legal action."
The silence in the room grew heavy.
I kept my eyes fixed on Zhang Jian, refusing to break eye contact.
His fingers continued to drum against the table, but the other directors shifted uncomfortably in their leather chairs.
Liu Guang remained standing protectively beside me, his presence steady and reassuring.
Wu Zhihao's pen scratched against his notepad, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet room.
Finally, Zhang Jian stopped drumming his fingers and straightened his tie.
He cleared his throat before speaking.
"Very well, Mrs. Li," he said.
"We'll process the return of the bonus."
The tension in the room dissipated as several directors exhaled audibly.
Liu Guang squeezed my shoulder in silent congratulation.
"But there's something you should know," Zhang Jian added, his voice lowering.
I felt a chill run down my spine.
"What is it?" I asked, bracing myself for his response.
Zhang Jian pulled out a thick contract from his desk drawer.
He flipped to a page that had been marked with a yellow Post-It note.
His finger traced along a dense paragraph of legal text as he began to speak.
"According to section 3, subsection 7 of our company's compensation policy, any bonus returns must be processed through a special committee," he explained.
"This committee is responsible for reviewing all requests for bonus reversals and determining whether or not they are legitimate. The review process typically takes six months."
I felt my hands trembling as I listened to him.
"A six-month review period?" I repeated, incredulous.
"Yes," Zhang Jian replied, his voice dripping with satisfaction.
"This clause was put in place specifically to prevent quick reversals of compensation. It ensures that the company has adequate time to assess the situation and make an informed decision."
Liu Guang leaned forward, his brow furrowed as he examined the text.
Wu Zhihao's pen scratched furiously across his notepad as he took down notes.
I gripped the edge of the conference table, my knuckles white with tension.
"This is just a stalling tactic," Liu Guang said, his voice edged with frustration.
"Perhaps," Zhang Jian replied, a faint smile playing on his lips, "but it's all within the bounds of our policy."
"We'll see about that," I interjected, determination hardening my tone.
