Volume One: Emerging from Seclusion Chapter 10: Assigned to the Workshop

After that event, my situation at the factory changed completely. People from other departments who used to be warm and polite to me now avoided me as if I were a plague. Section Chief Zheng became even colder, essentially ignoring me. Aside from continuing to make me serve tea and run errands, Lin Xiaolong stopped letting me touch any actual work. What saddened me even more was that Hu Yue, who had always been the best to me, started avoiding me as well; even when she had something to say, she would wait until no one else was around. She had been angry with me for a long time because I didn’t follow her advice. Once she stopped being angry, I finally found an opportunity to explain what had happened. After listening, she said to me:

"I told you to be wary of Diao Youhua before, but you wouldn't listen. He is the type who loves to cozy up to leaders and loves to snitch; many who worked with him have suffered for it. You’ve learned your lesson now, haven't you?"

She continued, "Diao Youhua is a sly fox who specializes in studying what the leadership likes and dislikes. Boss Gao has always been most sensitive and wary regarding procurement matters. That is why I stopped you from submitting that report, and it is likely the reason Diao Youhua submitted it behind your back. He has always seen you as a rival. When he had the chance to use this to stomp you down, he certainly wouldn't miss it, given his character. That man has no bottom line."

She paused for a moment and added, "There are people in the factory leadership who have their own views on procurement. The danger is that Boss Gao might think you are in league with them, which would be troublesome. Fortunately, from what you've told me, it seems he hasn't fully concluded that yet. I will find someone to help you think of a way to pass a message to the top: that you were simply too naive and were not acting under anyone's orders."

I felt grateful, but I could only reply with two simple words: "Thank you." In my isolated state, Hu Yue was the only one who offered me a bit of warmth, like a stove in the dead of winter.

After that incident, I completely broke ties with Diao Youhua. In the dormitory, apart from necessary communication, we essentially didn't speak a word. Living together in such a "cold war" made me feel awkward and uncomfortable, though Diao Youhua seemed indifferent. Yet, I always felt a sense of mockery behind his gaze, as if he were smug about finally having crushed me.

Five months later, the situation shifted again. Diao Youhua was appointed as Factory Manager Gao’s secretary. Suddenly, he became a hot commodity; there were no shortage of people circling him, and even some department heads began acting very affectionate toward him. I deeply felt the magic of power. He wasn't even a true decision-maker, just a secretary, but simply because he could get close to the leader, understand his thoughts, and perhaps influence them, he was pursued like this.

I thought to myself that his appointment must be related to the appreciation Factory Manager Gao had for him, and that appreciation likely stemmed largely from that proposal about sales. If I had been the one to suggest it… but life does not exist in the subjunctive mood. The reality was that I had been defeated by Diao Youhua’s schemes, and even more so by my own honesty and lack of guile.

After Diao Youhua became the secretary, he spent even less time in the dorm, and whenever he did return, he seemed even more dismissive of me. Perhaps by then, he didn't view me as a threat at all because I no longer possessed the means to compete with him. Whether out of concern for his reputation or some other reason, he started acting polite toward me on the surface, but I remained unwilling to engage with him.

A few months later, at the end of 1995, Diao Youhua was officially named Deputy Chief of the Office’s Secretarial Section. Soon after, the General Affairs Department acted quickly; as soon as he met the requirements, they assigned him an apartment. Before long, he moved out of the communal dormitory. No one else had moved in yet, so I was the only one left. When he moved out, he said goodbye to me, feigning kindness: "Dongshan, we’ve lived together for over two years, which is a kind of fate. No matter how you feel about me, I am still grateful for the help you gave me before. If you run into any difficulties in the future, you can come to me."

I couldn't stand his condescending tone, but I gave a vague, mumbled response. Diao Youhua had completely defeated me, and in a knockout fashion at that; he was just a step away from stomping on my head. Circumstances were stronger than the individual; our paths had diverged into different worlds, and he was now someone I could not afford to offend.

In the blink of an eye, the Spring Festival holiday arrived, and I made the long journey back to my hometown in the countryside of Baning County, Huajiang Province. I had written home beforehand to say I would be back for the New Year.

I set off shortly after six in the morning. By the time I reached the area opposite my home, dusk was falling. I saw my mother standing on the dirt terrace in front of our tile-roofed house, looking out. When she spotted me, she shouted, "Is that Shan-wa?"

I replied loudly, "Mom, it’s me! I’m home."

I quickened my pace toward her. Finally reaching her, she looked me over carefully, brushing the dust off my clothes while muttering, "You're finally back, finally back."

A wave of heartache washed over me. I had returned home too infrequently, and Mother seemed much older, her hair even grayer.

Once inside, I took out the gifts I had bought for her and my younger brother. I had bought Mother a new outfit. Previously, she had always been the one buying clothes for me; this was the first time I had bought something for her. While Mother said, "How much money did this cost? Don't buy things in the future, it's such a waste. In the countryside, anything is fine for farm work," she held the clothes and examined them carefully, unable to hide the smile on her face.

I felt ashamed. Mother had sacrificed so much for me, and I had returned so little.

I then took out the video game console I had bought for my brother. He was thrilled, grabbing it and tearing open the packaging to start tinkering with it. Donghai was almost twenty years old now, a grown man, but he still couldn't shake his playful nature. The year our father passed away, he was only in his second year of middle school. Since the family couldn't afford to keep both of us in school, and considering my grades were better and I was already in my third year of high school, he had to drop out. This was something I had always felt guilty about. Perhaps Mom felt guilty too, so she spoiled him, leading him to develop some lazy habits. He had no major vices, just a mischievous streak from childhood, but he was glib and quite charming.

During those few days at home for the Spring Festival, I felt a deep sense of familial warmth. It helped me temporarily forget the unpleasantness at work. When Mother asked about my job, I always said it was fine, not wanting her to worry.

However, my misfortune did not end there; my situation actually deteriorated further.

On the second day after returning to the factory from the holiday, Hu Yue quietly told me that I might be transferred to the workshop. I was shocked. They hadn't sent me to the factory floor when I first arrived, so why, after working for nearly two years, would they transfer me now? It didn't make any sense.

Sure enough, two days later, Department Chief Jia called me in to talk, formally informing me that the factory had decided to transfer me to Workshop Three. Since I had joined the department, Chief Jia had barely spoken to me privately, and I never expected his first one-on-one talk to be about my transfer out of the Sales Department.

"Little Wang," Chief Jia began, using his usual tone.

"Yes, Chief Jia," I replied nervously. "It’s been over two years."

"The department is satisfied with your work," Chief Jia continued, circling the point. "You can be a bit blunt at times, Little Wang, but that’s not a major flaw. Overall, you’ve worked hard without complaint."

After nearly two years of work, to be labeled as merely "working hard without complaint"—I felt a sense of sorrow, yet I was helpless.

I remained silent, listening as he continued: "The factory values the cultivation of young talent. You have been in the Sales Department for over two years now and are very familiar with the work. In order to give you more comprehensive training, the factory has decided to transfer you to the workshop so you can become familiar with production. You will receive an official transfer order from the Personnel Department in a couple of days."

Leaders are very "artistic" with their words. They call a demotion "training and cultivation," which made me realize once again that those in power always hold the right to dictate the narrative.

Although Hu Yue had tipped me off, hearing the news officially still made my chest churn violently. I, the only graduate from a top-tier university in the factory, was receiving this treatment. What had I done wrong? I had worked so diligently; if I hadn't earned credit, I had certainly put in the labor. Was it just because I offered a suggestion that didn't suit the leaders' tastes that I had to be treated this way? I had been at the factory for over two years, yet compared to when I first arrived, my opportunities and circumstances had regressed significantly. I felt the darkness and unfairness of society, but what was even more despairing was that I had no way to combat it. I was the meat on the chopping block, and they were the butchers.

The transfer order from Personnel arrived quickly. As I was packing my things in the office to report to Workshop Three, Zhou Dezhi walked over, patted me on the shoulder, and said, "Little Wang, I admire your character. Don't let temporary setbacks change your principles!"

Zhou Dezhi, a man who usually didn't say much, was the only one to approach me when everyone else was avoiding me. It brought a flicker of warmth, but that warmth was like a match lit in the middle of a blizzard—too faint and too brief to withstand the biting cold.

When I arrived at Workshop Three to report, the workshop director, Song Dagang, wasn't in the office, but I saw Zhu Lishan. I suddenly remembered she worked there. She was surprised to see me, clearly unaware of my transfer. She stood up and asked, "What brings our handsome guy to our workshop to 'guide the work'?"

I felt embarrassed; being transferred from the Sales Department to the workshop was indeed a humiliating affair. But I had to tell the truth: "Don't joke around. I've been transferred here. I’m looking for Director Song to report."

Zhu Lishan asked, "Why did you come to Workshop Three?"

"Why shouldn't I be able to come? If a girl like you can work here, why can't I?" I blurted out without thinking.

"What’s wrong with being a girl? Women are no worse than men. Even Chairman Mao said that women hold up half the sky."

"Alright, alright, Comrade Half-the-Sky, I concede. Where is Director Song?"

Zhu Lishan softened her tone and said, "Director Song went to inspect the production line. You can sit and wait for a bit."

I took a closer look at the office. It was a partitioned space inside the factory building, rather cramped, with three desks. Besides Zhu Lishan's, the other two were empty. The one in the back must have been Director Song's; it was cluttered with a pile of documents and samples. In the corner of the office sat a somewhat tattered sofa, so I went over and sat down.

After a while, Director Song returned, still wearing his work uniform. Seeing me, he smiled and said, "Little Wang is here."

I quickly stood up and addressed him. Director Song gestured for me to sit, turned to wipe his hands, and pulled up a stool to sit across from me. This surprised me; in the two years I’d been working, none of the leaders I’d dealt with had ever done that. Even Lin Xiaolong had always expected me to pull up my own chair or just stand by his desk.

Director Song looked at me and said, "Little Wang, I know about your situation. Regardless of why you were transferred here, I welcome you. Don't carry any mental burden. I’ve known a bit about your work; no matter how others view you, I personally like people who work as solidly as you do. Production is very important, and it’s a great place to hone one's skills. It all depends on your own attitude."

I was so moved I almost had tears in my eyes. After days of torment, hearing this from someone—and a future superior at that—made me feel that "a scholar will die for one who appreciates him." At that moment, Director Song seemed so kind, completely different from the stern image I had seen of him before.

I quickly integrated into the workshop. Director Song was a veteran director with rich experience, a rigorous work style, and he cared for me. I got along well with Zhu Lishan; she was lively, and our frequent joking brought energy to the office. The workshop office chief was an older colleague named Zhang Guoqing, whose work and personality were similar to Director Song's, and he was also very easy to get along with.

My work in the workshop mainly involved coordinating production plans with the Planning Department, checking production and worker progress, and coordinating with the Storage and Transportation Department on finished goods. Aside from the pungent chemical smells, everything else was fine. The work was tangible, and I felt a sense of fulfillment. The workers were down-to-earth and easy to work with; in time, I built a very harmonious relationship with them.

The positive atmosphere and fulfilling work at the workshop made me feel relaxed. For a time, I even felt that staying in the workshop was better than working in the Sales Department, and that it might be good to just stay here and do some solid work. But occasionally, in moments of stillness, the thought of the "demotion" and the bleak, hopeless future would return, bringing waves of sorrow and pain.