Chapter 2

As Qin Fang ran off, Wei Hongying stomped her foot and followed after her, leaving Liu Jiande standing there.

“This whole thing might just be a misunderstanding, Dongling, don’t take it to heart—Qin Fang is a woman, and her family just suffered a loss; it’s natural she’s emotional!”

Liu Jiande said to Li Dongling, “Don’t worry, I’ll give her a serious reprimand!”

At this point, Liu Jiande believed Li Dongling wouldn’t say anything more; according to the norms of this era, a decent man doesn’t argue with a woman—if Li Dongling persisted, he’d be seen as petty, narrow-minded, and overly fixated on trivialities.

But as Liu Jiande was about to leave, he heard Li Dongling say, “I understand Qin Jie’s family has suffered a tragedy, but this matter must be thoroughly investigated; otherwise, someone might exploit it to stir up trouble!”

Liu Jiande’s expression shifted slightly as he began to study Li Dongling more carefully, then smiled, “Dongling, don’t overthink it—our No. 1 Wireless Factory still has a solid work ethic!”

Li Dongling chuckled softly, said nothing, picked up his luggage, and headed toward the corridor dormitory. He would find out the truth about this matter—no doubt about it.

After returning to the provincial capital in his past life, Li Dongling later reflected on this incident with a chill—he feared that if he hadn’t left gracefully, what followed might have been more than rumors and spitting behind his back!

Watching Li Dongling leave, Liu Jiande walked toward Qin Fang’s room in the corridor dormitory.

“Manager Liu, how could you do this? You didn’t even investigate—you just let Li Dongling off the hook…”

When she saw Liu Jiande, Wei Hongying still resented him for defending Qin Fang.

“Hongying, I told you—it wasn’t Li Dongling, I just mistook someone!” Qin Fang, sitting on the edge of the bed, grabbed Wei Hongying’s arm and said.

“You go outside—I need to speak with Qin Fang alone!”

Liu Jiande told Wei Hongying; she opened her mouth to protest, but one glare from him silenced her, and she stomped out, furious.

“Qin Fang!”

Liu Jiande looked at Qin Fang, his face grim. “Your situation is known to me and the factory leadership—we all want to resolve it quickly and assign you to fill Wei Qiang’s slot as a permanent worker. What happened today? How am I supposed to advocate for you now?!”

“I…”

“I can’t ruin him!”

Bowing her head, Qin Fang whispered these words. After her husband Wei Qiang’s car accident, the burden of the family fell on her shoulders. They’d been married for over a year with no children; Wei Qiang’s parents were gone, and he had a younger brother and sister who depended on him for support—now all of it rested on her.

After Wei Qiang’s accident, Qin Fang repeatedly approached factory leadership, seeking to take over his position, but they kept delaying, claiming the factory’s quota was full. It wasn’t a lie—every state-owned factory in Pingyang, not just No. 1 Wireless in Xicheng, was packed to capacity, with countless temporary workers desperately waiting for permanent status.

But Qin Fang needed Wei Qiang’s permanent slot—she had to support his siblings and send money back to her rural family. Without it, even the corridor dormitory room she lived in would be taken away.

“What do you mean ‘ruin him’?!”

Liu Jiande’s face flushed with anger. “When did I ever tell you to ruin him? What kind of person do you think I am? I’m trying to help you, and you say this?!”

Qin Fang kept her head down, silent. Liu Jiande hadn’t directly ordered her to frame Li Dongling—but he’d given her clear hints.

He’d told Qin Fang that Li Dongling was a college graduate; even if he left No. 1 Wireless in Xicheng, he could find another state-owned factory—or even use connections to return to the provincial capital.

If Qin Fang could make Li Dongling leave, his technical department slot would open up—and Liu Jiande would immediately assign her to take over Wei Qiang’s position.

“You repay kindness with ingratitude,” Liu Jiande sneered. “I can’t help you with Wei Qiang’s slot anymore. Find someone else. I’m done with your affairs!”

Li Dongling climbed up to the sixth floor of the corridor dormitory. It was much like a university dorm, but far more crowded.

Inside, the corridor was piled with all sorts of clutter; on both sides were tiny single rooms, with shared water rooms and toilets. Many doorways had makeshift stoves where residents cooked—when one family fried chili peppers, the whole building coughed; when one family argued, the whole building watched.

Using his memory, Li Dongling found his assigned room. He’d only gotten this bed because he held a permanent position at No. 1 Wireless in Xicheng—and because he was assigned to the technical department. Yes, just one bed!

Many residents here lived as entire families—multiple generations crammed into rooms barely ten square meters.

Even this was considered good treatment; many single workers and temporary staff had no chance at all to live here.

Li Dongling pushed open the door. The room was cluttered with belongings—typical for a space shared by several men—but at least it wasn’t dirty, and it was livable.

He placed his things on the empty bed. Clearly, his two roommates had known he was coming and had cleared a space—otherwise, the bed would’ve been buried under junk.

Picking up the mirror on the desk, Li Dongling saw a young face—long hair styled in the era’s fashion, sharp eyebrows, bright eyes, a high nose bridge giving his features a distinct three-dimensional quality.

Fresh out of university, he still carried the scholarly air—but now he also had the look of a TV drama heartthrob. Without his campus-god-level looks from Hanzhong Jiaotong University, he never would’ve won An Ruxue over.

Looking at his reflection, then at his still-flat stomach, Li Dongling sighed deeply. In his past life, after arriving in the provincial capital, he joined the Provincial Machinery Design Bureau. In the end, besides gaining a paunch, a bent back from overtime, and thinning hair, his career went nowhere—and he never ended up with An Ruxue.

Li Dongling stared at his reflection, letting go of the past, a smile curling on his lips as he said to the face in the mirror, “Hello, 1993!”

Not long after Li Dongling tidied his bed, the door opened and a thin, tall, thirty-something man with glasses walked in, carrying a stack of documents.

“You must be Dongling. I’m Zhou Wenyang.”

Zhou Wenyang set down the documents and warmly said to Li Dongling, “Our technical department head has been talking nonstop about a top student from Hanzhong Jiaotong University finally arriving—we’ve been waiting!”

Li Dongling paused, then pulled out cigarettes and offered one to Zhou Wenyang.

Even the head of the technical department knew Li Dongling was coming—yet when Liu Jiande heard his name today, he acted as if he’d never heard it. If there wasn’t something fishy going on, Li Dongling didn’t believe it.

“Houwang cigarettes—this is good stuff!”

Zhou Wenyang took the cigarette, sniffed it, then smiled. These were made by Pingyang Cigarette Factory, the elder statesman of the northwest tobacco industry—and the best state-owned factory in the region, with annual revenue exceeding 600 million yuan. Countless people fought to get in.

For married Zhou Wenyang, cigarettes this expensive were no longer suitable—he usually smoked cheap loose cigarettes just to satisfy his craving.

Li Dongling lit his cigarette with a metal lighter. Zhou Wenyang’s eyes lit up at the sight. “This lighter isn’t cheap, is it?”

Hearing Zhou Wenyang’s comment, Li Dongling looked at the metal lighter and thought of An Ruxue—it was her gift to him, smuggled from Dongou. It was a knockoff of Japanese and Korean lighters, mostly made for export, but in inland cities, one could sell for over sixty yuan.

Seeing Li Dongling silent, Zhou Wenyang went on, “It’s rare to find a college graduate like you returning home.

Nowadays, graduates head straight for Shenzhen or other special zones, or Shanghai, Beijing—the worst they’ll do is try to stay in the provincial capital.

But now that you’re here, our technical department finally has someone usable. You have no idea what kind of skills those technical school grads have—they can’t even read blueprints…”