Chapter 280: He Yushui Starts Working

In the autumn of '62, the chill deepened; the leaves of the Old Locust Tree in the Siheyuan began to turn yellow, occasionally drifting down in spirals, as if silently marking certain turning points in people's lives.

In the Central Courtyard of the He Family, the recent atmosphere carries a settled calm, tinged with an unspeakable sense of loss. He Yushui has graduated from high school. She wears a blue cloth school uniform faded from washing, two plaited braids hanging over her chest, her face still bearing a childlike innocence, yet her eyes already show a few shades of sober realism. The university admission letter never arrived, which was expected; in these times a university is a threshold not easily reached by ordinary families' children.

"If you didn't get in, then you didn't," Sha Zhu, still caring about his younger sister, said while peeling green onions and shouting, "Kids from the Working Class should start working early, add bricks and tiles to socialist construction—still glorious! I heard the Textile Factory is hiring clerks. No wind, no rain—perfect for you!"

He Yushui silently packed her textbooks, the pages that once bore countless nights of lamp‑lit study now seeming glaringly bright. She feels loss and resentment, but more so a bewilderment about the future and a hint of resignation.

Getting a clerk position at the Textile Factory, in this era, is already a decent path for an ordinary girl without connections. She gave a soft "mm" as a response to her brother's arrangement.

A few days later, He Yushui packed a simple bundle and reported to the Textile Factory. She left the Siheyuan, thick with the smell of fire and scheming, and stepped into a new, equally uncertain collective environment.

The courtyard lost a quiet high‑school student and gained a young female worker who entered society early. No one knows how her future will unfold, but she has already crossed the first watershed of her life.

Unlike He Yushui's orderly entry into society, the power currents in the Steel Rolling Mill are growing ever more intense.

The struggle between Factory Director Yang Weiguo and Deputy Director Li Huaide has almost come to the fore. Director Yang, with his hard‑line style, drives production with thunderous efficiency and enjoys high prestige among the workers; Li Huaide, leveraging his father‑in‑law's connections in the Ministry of Industry and his skill at managing relationships and activating supplies, has also gathered a faction capable of matching Director Yang's power.

The two clash openly and covertly over personnel appointments and resource allocation, forcing the plant's middle managers to pick sides or tread carefully to keep the balance.

The wind naturally reached Projectionist Xu Damao in the Propaganda Section. He was like a keen‑nosed hunting dog, instantly recognizing a golden chance for "progress"! He had long grown tired of lugging the heavy projector to the countryside, eating dust, and dreamed of snagging a minor post, sitting in an office directing affairs.

First, he seized an opportunity, presenting the Propaganda Section's direct superior with some hometown specialties, and spewed plenty of flattering words about loyalty and ambition.

The leader politely accepted the gifts, then in official tone said: "Comrade Damao, your ideas are good, seeking progress is fine! But propaganda work is crucial, and the Projectionist post is indispensable! You see, you're the only skilled Projectionist in the plant; if you move to another post, who will handle the film screenings? How will we affect the workers' cultural life? The overall situation must come first!"

The pompous speech blocked Xu Damao's advance. Only then did he realize that his skill had become a stumbling block to his promotion! The plant would struggle to find a suitable replacement for a while. He felt as if he'd swallowed a fly—nauseous and choked.

"Damn it! Isn't it just because I have no patron?" Xu Damao fumed at home, smashing things; after Wang Cuihua scolded him a few times as "good‑for‑nothing," his anger flared. He steeled himself and decided to bypass the Propaganda Section leader and climb straight to the top!

He dug up the stash of his private savings, gnawed his way to steal the two industrial coupons Wang Cuihua had hidden, then went to the department store and carefully selected two pricey bottles of Maotai and a pack of "Da Qianmen" cigarettes. It cost a fortune!

One evening after work, Xu Damao timed it right, carrying the "generous gift" in a netted bag, and slipped into Deputy Director Li Huaide's office.

"Director Li! You're still busy? How hard you work!" Xu Damao bowed and smiled obsequiously.

Li Huaide was seated behind his desk reviewing documents; he glanced up at Xu Damao, then glanced at the unabashed gift placed in the corner, a faint knowing smile appearing as he leaned back in his chair and leisurely lit a cigarette: "Ah, Damao, what's up?"

"Director Li, I… I have always greatly admired your competence and contributions to the plant!" Xu Damao began to flatter, "Under your leadership, our logistics and cultural life are thriving! As a member of the plant, I am eager to shoulder more work for you and make a greater contribution!"

After circling the issue for a while, he finally got to the point: "You see, I've been a Projectionist for years, with no accolades but plenty of hard work… I wonder if I could… switch to a role where I can be more useful, perhaps as a clerk in the Propaganda Section, or… some other department, to train myself? I'm sure I can do it well!"

Li Huaide took a drag, sizing up Xu Damao through the smoke. He knew exactly why Xu was here and recognized the man's limited ability, but he was slick, obedient, and… bold enough to come directly to him, showing sincere intent to attach himself. It was a time for staffing, and a small character like this, if used well, could serve as a nail.

He didn't answer immediately, but tapped the desk and said meaningfully: "Comrade Damao, I understand your idea. Seeking progress is good! However, each post in the plant is a specific fit, and we must consider the whole picture. Your projection work is indeed important…"

Xu Damao's heart tightened, fearing the "overall situation" would block him again.

Then Li Huaide's tone shifted: "But opportunities always go to those prepared, and to those… who know how to seize them. Go back, focus on your work; I'll consider your situation."

There was no explicit promise, but also no refusal, and the gift was accepted. Xu Damao felt as if a rabbit were in his chest—uneasy yet full of hope. He thanked profusely as he left the office, convinced he had made the right move! Leaning on Deputy Director Li like a big tree, why fear there would be no day of advancement?

He didn't realize that, in the eyes of leaders like Li Huaide, Xu Damao was merely a piece that could be used or discarded at any time. His "progress" path was destined to be fraught with uncertainty and the risk of becoming cannon fodder.

On an autumn night in the Siheyuan, He Yushui tossed and turned sleeplessly in the Textile Factory's communal dormitory, pondering the future; meanwhile Xu Damao lay on his home kang, dreaming of promotion and riches, unaware that he was voluntarily plunging into a more tangled vortex of power.