Chapter 1269: Anticipation

Second Aunt Song's house was much like Wang Yan's, though its area might be slightly larger, and the courtyard extended a bit further outward.

She and her husband both worked at the textile mill; the two met, fell in love, and married within the factory. They had three children: an eldest son of sixteen, a second son of fourteen, and a youngest daughter of eleven.

Second Aunt Song was a production team leader at the textile mill, supervising five or six women while working alongside them. Her husband served as an accountant in the factory's finance department, though he held no leadership position among the accountants.

Watching the several children stare intently at the canned beef and chop furiously, Wang Yan and Second Uncle exchanged toasts.

Second Uncle smiled and said, "Little Wang, I hear you're about to become a technical leader in our factory?"

"What technical leader?" Wang Yan waved his hand. "I'm just leading the machine repair crew in their work; it's still repairing equipment. Except for a few new recruits, the rest are veterans who previously studied under me. They could disassemble and reassemble those factory machines with their eyes closed. Where does 'technical' come into it?"

"Ah, you can't say that. Among our factory's three hundred-plus staff, you are the most educated, having learned advanced knowledge at university. Leadership surely wants you to bring forth the new through the old. You haven't told me the truth either; lately, aside from meal times, no one sees you at the factory. Those veterans in machine repair say you're secretly researching improvements to the machinery."

"What secret?" Wang Yan shook his head with amusement. "The machine repair work doesn't require my hands; they can handle it all. As the factory's university graduate, I can't just eat idle rice, so I found some tasks for myself. If it were truly a secret, would you all know about it? Come, come, Second Uncle, let's drink, let's drink."

Second Uncle laughed heartily, shared a cup of wine with Wang Yan, and instructed, "Get along well with He Xiaoping; she's a good Miss. Their family has had it hard..."

"Enough, enough; why say all that?" Second Aunt Song stopped Second Uncle from speaking further.

Wang Yan smiled. "Second Aunt, when I say I don't care, I truly don't care. What is this to worry about? I refuse to believe anyone would dare cause trouble for me."

"Brother Yan is the most formidable," Second Aunt's sixteen-year-old eldest son flattered.

"Don't you dare use my name to bully people outside. If I find out, I'll make you experience firsthand what 'formidable' truly means."

"How could I? The brothers in our textile mill are the most honest folks."

"You brat are asking for a beating. Do you think I'm forming a bandit gang with you lot? Go tell those kids: anyone who doesn't behave—remember old Liu from before? I'll hang him in that spot and whip him; let's see if he still cares about face."

The eldest son grinned sheepishly, kept silent, and ate his meal obediently.

"See, one thing must conquer another," Second Aunt Song exclaimed with an "Aiyo." "My two boys are more troublesome than each other. Little Wang, my eldest is already sixteen; he studies poorly and doesn't know what to do next. I was thinking of letting him come to our factory to learn a trade."

"But as you've seen, our family's situation is difficult. Neither Second Uncle nor I can lose our jobs, or else this household won't have enough to eat. So... could you help us find a solution?"

"Second Aunt, to be honest, this matter is quite difficult." Wang Yan shook his head and sighed. "Second Uncle is an accountant; he knows our factory's situation better than anyone. It's not just your family facing empty pots; the entire factory is nearly there. I am a university graduate, and the factory looks after me, but I cannot make things worse for the factory."

"Furthermore, if I mention this to the factory and get this boy placed inside, how will others view it? No one would speak well of us. Second Aunt, this isn't about those with ability not getting enough to eat, or those without ability getting nothing. I cannot control other places, but as long as I remain in our factory for one day, no one—not even our factory director—will have the ability or dare to pull such tricks. Therefore, I must first set an example by my own actions; only then do I have the standing to discipline others."

Seeing the couple and their eldest son's expressions change slightly, Wang Yan smiled gently. "However, Second Aunt, Second Uncle, do not worry. Regardless of whether He Xiaoping and I succeed, regardless of whether we ultimately become one family, I certainly acknowledge this bond. I cannot simply watch this boy left with no future."

"Earlier, you mentioned my secret research; why am I doing it? Because our factory's performance is poor, barely sustaining itself. Thus, we must find ways to expand our benefits. Once the factory performs well, not just this boy, but all the children of our factory workers can enter the factory, and then no one will have anything to say."

"However, this matter certainly cannot be resolved immediately. So, over the next few days, I will look into sending him first to another factory in our county with better performance. There will definitely be no permanent establishment; he would start as a temporary worker, but at least there would be some income, providing a subsidy for our family. Second Aunt, Second Uncle, what do you think?"

The couple exchanged glances, whereupon Second Uncle raised his wine cup: "Your abilities surpass ours; we will follow your arrangements. Just find a place for our troublesome boy."

"That place is only temporary. What I truly want is to make our textile mill bigger and stronger." Wang Yan clinked glasses with Second Uncle.

And so, revolving around all sorts of chaotic matters within the factory, after Wang Yan drank Second Uncle under the table, the moon had already reached its zenith.

Strolling home, he fetched water to wash up, continued writing his review outline for a while longer, then lay down on the bed and fell asleep...

Early the next morning, after completing his usual morning exercises, Wang Yan washed with cold water, briefly wiped his body, and rode his bicycle to work at the textile mill.

He first went to their machine repair workshop to fetch his lunchbox, then proceeded to the factory's Lideshitang for breakfast.

For Wang Yan, this was actually a novel experience.

Because he had never lived in a county town during this era. Mencius was not large either, but back then he was in the military system, part of the first-tier guarantee sequence, and moreover in the song-and-dance troupe, which enjoyed relatively better conditions. He had previously worked at a bakery, but that was in Jingcheng. He also served as a grassroots clinic doctor, but that was in the Northeast, where resources were more abundant, and specifically in a provincial capital.

The material guarantees of Jingcheng and those of provincial capitals were, without doubt, incomparable to those of a county town. Especially since Jin Ling County itself was not wealthy; it relied on the county's farmers cultivating a few meager fields for sustenance, while simultaneously bearing the responsibility of supplying the city, after which the city would coordinate certain resources...

Greeting people along the way, Wang Yan served himself breakfast.

Breakfast held nothing special: millet porridge and steamed corn buns, accompanied by pickles so salty they choked the throat.

As the saying goes, wherever there are people, there is a Jianghu. Even in school, a class of forty or fifty students would split into several factions; with so many people in the factory, naturally, cliques and factions formed as well.

However, Wang Yan did not care; he could chat with anyone, at least superficially making everyone appear happy. As for how they cursed Wang Mou behind his back, he could not hear it, and no one dared to curse before his face, which was good enough. He could make others fear and dread him, but he could not prevent them from cursing him.

After finishing breakfast, before he could begin his work, someone came to fetch him for the factory director's office.

"Old Xu is retiring. You possess the strongest technical skills in our entire factory, and you are a university graduate; everyone else respects you. From now on, you will serve as the leader of the machine repair group."

The factory director was a man in his fifties named Qi Ming. Having worked in this factory for thirty years, rising from a laborer to his current position, his hair had already turned white.

He poured tea for Wang Yan and said, "The factory meeting has already passed; the personnel appointment will be finalized within these few days. Old Xu did not come today, so you may commence your duties immediately. You must ensure our factory's machinery operates smoothly and resolutely fulfill the production tasks."

"Yes," Wang Yan replied.

"I heard you went on a blind date yesterday?" the old factory director asked curiously.

Wang Yan shook his head with amusement, laughing at Second Aunt Song's big mouth: "Yes, it went quite well."

"I heard their family background is not very good."

"I do not care about such things; who would dare make an issue of me?" Wang Yan then changed the subject, smiling. "Last night, I ate at Big Sister Fang Qian's home; I now call her Second Aunt. She wants her eldest son to come to the factory, specifically to our machine repair group."

"Did you agree?"

"Of course I refused. Old Li wanted to arrange his nephew's entry, and I blocked his office door and scolded him for an hour. How could I do such a thing?"

Old Li was the factory's deputy director. Wang Yan truly did not indulge bad habits; this had happened just last month. At that time, he sat in his office and lectured him for an hour—not merely exchanging greetings, but delivering an ideological lesson that ridiculed the man until he was worth nothing.

Now, not only had Old Li become obedient, but everyone in the factory had become obedient as well.

The old factory director possessed authority, accumulated over his thirty years of work here; outside the textile mill, others in the county might not necessarily recognize him. But Wang Mou's deterrent power stemmed purely from personal capability, with a verifiable track record.

In the eyes of many, he was a person covered entirely in thorns, a person fitted with springs. Touch him once, and he would bounce up extremely high, ready to fight for his life...

The old factory director nodded, then laughed and scolded: "You even have the audacity to say that; Old Li was scolded by you until he could not lift his head."

"If he took advantage of the collective, wouldn't he hang his head in shame? If he didn't get the advantage and got scolded, he hangs his head? What kind of logic is that? Some of our cadres have too low an ideological awareness; they think only of their small families, not the greater family, secretly rejoicing in manipulating power. Old Factory Director, I repeat: I cannot control other places, but I will control our factory. This is my collective; I am a member of this collective; this is my right and duty."

"You..." The old factory director pointed vaguely, shaking his head with a bitter smile. "Our factory's performance is indeed poor now; keeping so many employees is already an achievement. Wanting to add more people is extremely difficult unless it is a political task. Which family in the factory does not have children? None of them have anywhere to go. I dare not open this precedent."

"That is exactly the point."

The current situation in the factory was indeed unfavorable. Although revenue remained stable, expenditures were continuously rising. On one hand, employee wages increased year by year; on the other, the first batch of workers began retiring, along with situations where workers chose early retirement to pass their positions to their children, requiring payout of pensions and medical expenses. All such expenditures were constantly increasing.

Thus, with unchanged revenue, the factory's efficiency declined, making life increasingly difficult.

Clapping his hands in agreement with the old factory director's words, Wang Yan said, "Therefore, Factory Director, I believe we should find ways to increase our factory's income."

"That sounds nice, but given the reality, what can we do? I hear you've recently been researching new machinery?"

"Not new machinery; merely improving our old machines. That alone cannot increase income."

"Then tell me, how do we improve?"

"I think we could start making ready-to-wear clothes."

"Wouldn't that be snatching business from the county's garment factory? They'd come banging on our doors!" The old factory manager waved his hands repeatedly. "If you say we make clothes not to sell in the county but to run off and sell elsewhere, I'd end up in prison."

"We need more courage, Manager." Wang Yan shook his head, took a cigarette from the manager, and lit it. "So what if we sell clothes? Can the garment factory eat us alive? They refuse to progress; their ready-to-wear clothes won't sell, so they buy fewer raw materials from us, which hurts our efficiency."

"If we make some good-looking clothes ourselves and sell them to the folks, increasing our factory's efficiency, what's wrong with that? They can't be that tyrannical, can they? Just because they can't do it, they won't let others? It's just filing a lawsuit in the county; should we fear them? By then, we might even swallow the garment factory whole."

"You really dare to dream, but I don't dare to act. I'll be retiring in a few years; I can't worry about so much."

"Then hurry up and promote me, so I can take over when the time comes."

"Whether you have the title or not, if you want to do something, who in our factory could stop you?"

"Having an official status matters; do you take me for a fool?" Wang Yan waved his hand, then changed the subject. "If we can't sell clothes, how about making shoes?"

"Isn't that also someone else's trade?" The old factory manager shook his head. "Alright, stop suggesting ideas; let's wait and see how the policies change. I've heard there might be some movement soon. Go on, go tinker with your machines. If you really get them working well, maybe we can even sell the machines themselves."

As the saying goes, no wind, no waves; everywhere is waiting for news from Jingcheng. The fact that the manager spoke this way shows just how significant the movement has become, especially since their location is a remote county town.

Wang Yan smiled, exchanged a few pleasantries, and left the manager's office.

The old factory manager was a conservative man; advanced in years, he only wished to hand over the reins safely, feeling his life was already complete. Though not wealthy, though holding no power, though lacking any spectacular achievements, he had fully realized his personal value.

Strolling back to the machine repair workshop, Wang Yan found all dozen or so members of the repair team present.

Wang Yan informed them that the previous team leader had retired and that he would now be taking charge. No one objected; everyone actively supported the decision. They were all clear about Wang Yan's upward trajectory. After all, Wang Yan possessed superior technical skills, was a university graduate, and had a tough demeanor that commanded considerable authority.

If any of the older comrades among them were made Wang Yan's superior, they would tremble. Not only could they not command Wang Yan, but they also couldn't command others, as Wang Yan could easily sideline them.

The same applied to the current factory leadership; of course, Wang Yan couldn't sideline others, but he could organize the majority of the factory staff to resist them.

After briefly outlining the work arrangements and maintaining the status quo, he dismissed them to their respective tasks.

Wang Yan, meanwhile, went off to one side to tinker with the machines again.

This was a loom, a machine for weaving threads into cloth. It was quite old and had become unreliable. It was a piece of equipment passed down through layers of elimination, and even obtaining this one had required endless begging and pleading.

His purpose in tinkering with this thing was to refurbish and improve upon it, increasing work efficiency and extending the service life of certain components. The benefit of this would be an indirect reduction in expenses.

For a textile factory to improve efficiency, disregarding policy constraints, there are two main areas: production and sales. Since sales cannot be changed, efforts must focus on the production end.

Production, in turn, divides into raw materials and machinery equipment. Raw materials involve the manufacturing methods for various fibers; in this regard, during this era, our country suffers from technological deficiencies. We lack sufficient production technology for high-purity viscose fibers and synthetic fibers.

Take Dacron, currently sweeping the nation; it is a synthetic fiber, namely polyester. Its prevalence resulted from our country introducing foreign technology and equipment in the 1970s and vigorously constructing chemical fiber plants.

In this era, sufficient technology and machinery are scarce across the board; the textile industry is merely one corner of the problem...

Wang Yan actually possessed the technology for this, but he did not wish to reveal it so easily, as the returns would be insufficient for him. He would need to wait until he became factory manager before conducting such research.

Therefore, he could only focus on the equipment, which fell within his professional expertise. Spinning, weaving, knitting, dyeing, printing, and so on—there were many types of equipment, and he was fully capable of raising the factory's productivity by a notch with minimal cost, perhaps even achieving what the old manager had said: selling textile machinery directly.

Of course, if he did not act, there was no way to upgrade the textile factory's equipment anyway. Purchasing new machines was difficult and costly. If the factory relied on scavenging leftovers, who knew how many years it would take.

He would have to tire himself out, but he regarded it simply as going to work; otherwise, he would have nothing to do. It was merely finding some work for himself; he certainly wouldn't dig at the foundations of socialism...

He had already completed the designs previously; now it was time for the modification. Immediately, he enlisted those with nothing to do to assist him nearby. Chatting and laughing, the atmosphere became quite lively.

Thus, a week passed, bringing them to another restful Sunday.

On this day, Song Yunping woke up somewhat late, having not slept well the previous night. She got up, tidied herself, washed her hair, finished the household chores, and changed into an outfit she felt looked good.

"Not even married yet, and you're already looking forward to it?" Song's mother, busy making shoes, lifted her head to look at her own dear daughter.

"Not at all," Song Yunping flatly denied, shifting the topic. "Where is Father?"

"He went out to treat patients; he'll be back tonight."

"Oh, then I'm going out to read, Mother."

Avoiding her mother's gaze, Song Yunping took a book and walked out of the house. She came to the small river by their home, sat on that same flat stone from the other day, read her book, and casually picked up small stones to toss into the river.

In the intervals between reading, she constantly glanced toward the road leading from the county town. A gentle breeze lifted her loose strands of hair; she raised her slender hand to gently stroke her tresses, already intoxicated by the small river at her doorstep...