Chapter 836: In Life, You Must Rely on Yourself

“Ding ling ling~”

“Oh my, Ge Qian, stop fussing—hurry up, or you’ll miss out on the braised pork again!”

“You go ahead! I still have five minutes here!”

“Then I’ll take your lunchbox—hurry up!”

“Huh? Then Zhang Jing, just get me a bowl of egg drop soup—I’ve got a dry throat, I just want something light.”

“You drink broth all day—look how thin you’ve gotten! Still saving every cent of your hundred and forty yuan a month? Seriously, hurry up!”

The noon dismissal bell rang at Plant One; the young workers in the workshop hastily dropped their tools, grabbed their lunchboxes, and rushed out.

Although the canteen had ample serving windows and queues took only minutes, everyone had over the years grown accustomed to “fighting for meals,” unwilling to be left behind.

Only Ge Qian quietly finished her task, lagged behind until the very last, then slowly washed her hands and trudged toward the canteen.

She disliked jostling in crowds to queue for food, because someone would always, like her best friend Zhang Jing, offer her kind advice.

“Oh Ge Qian, you earn so much salary—why not spend it on food and clothes? You’re skin and bones now, how will you ever find a husband?”

Many male workers even expressed “kindness,” enthusiastically serving her a full lunchbox of meat dishes.

Ge Qian disliked owing people favors and hated being pulled into awkward exchanges, so she always delayed ten minutes to avoid these pointless troubles and embarrassments.

But today, Ge Qian miscalculated—those colleagues who had rushed ahead were now clustered at the canteen entrance, surrounding the notice boards three layers deep, shoving and cramming in like people fighting over discounted chicken frames at the market.

“Excuse me, excuse me, let me through—I’ve been waiting for housing so long my hair’s gone white, please help me take a look!”

“Oh come on, who isn’t waiting for housing? I can’t get in either!”

“Then kindly check for me—has my name been posted? I’m short, I can’t see a thing.”

“I’ll check—Zhao Guofang, right? Yes, yes, you’re on the list—hey, brother, you’ve got real luck!”

“Really?! I actually made the list? Li Vice Director is truly righteous—before that guy did the housing survey, I didn’t even know such a thing existed!”

“Shh, lower your voice—that Lai guy handles things shadily, but don’t bring trouble on Li Vice Director. When gods fight, mortals suffer—don’t escalate tensions.”

“Ah, ah, ah, you’re right—I’m such a big mouth.”

“.”

Listening to the group of men chattering happily, Ge Qian knew the factory’s housing allocation had not only been publicly posted but truly lived up to Li Vice Director’s claim: “fair to the masses.”

She knew Zhao Guofang—he was an old worker transferred from the main plant. Though he had long seniority and a large family, he was simple, honest, and clueless about networking; by past standards, he’d never have qualified for housing.

Yet now Zhao Guofang had actually gotten an apartment—so Li Vice Director hadn’t been lying. Fair, impartial—he was a good cadre.

But no matter how good Li Ye was, Ge Qian wouldn’t get housing, because she was exactly the kind of person Li Ye had explicitly banned.

When Li Ye first issued the employee housing registration form, Ge Qian had briefly considered applying—but she had no parents, no close relatives except one nephew and one niece, who fell squarely under Li Ye’s rule: “Do not include your big nephews or big nieces.”

So Ge Qian had no expectations for this housing allocation—by past precedent or Li Ye’s current rules, she didn’t qualify.

“Ge Qian! Ge Qian! I’m over here!”

Ge Qian’s best friend Zhang Jing squeezed out of the crowd, rushed over, and whispered excitedly: “Ge Qian, guess what—did our workshop’s Big Chin get housing?”

Ge Qian hurriedly said: “Don’t keep calling him Big Chin—he’s a deputy director, watch your tongue, walls have ears.”

Zhang Jing shrugged: “I’m not afraid of him! His family already has a huge house, yet he’s still competing for slots with those of us who have none—if he gets one, it’d be an injustice!”

Ge Qian froze. “He didn’t get it?”

Zhang Jing nodded with a smug grin, clearly delighted.

Ge Qian was surprised.

Big Chin’s family owned a small courtyard passed down from ancestors, so his housing situation wasn’t difficult.

But that was his parents’ house—he owned none himself, and the head of the main plant’s Personnel and Wage Department was his uncle-in-law; by any standard, giving him housing wouldn’t have been unreasonable.

Yet he didn’t get it—Li Vice Director’s rules were truly strict!

“Forget it—don’t enjoy others’ misfortune. Let’s go eat.”

Seeing the crowd around her, Ge Qian pulled Zhang Jing away. The county magistrate is weaker than the local officer—even if Li Vice Director is fair, a deputy director can still make your life hell, so better to say less.

But at the canteen, Zhang Jing whispered mysteriously: “Ge Qian, I’ve got a way for you to get new housing in minutes—want to hear it?”

Ge Qian lowered her head, sipping soup indifferently: “Don’t joke about my poverty—you know my situation. No chance.”

“No, no, no—there’s a chance.”

Zhang Jing whispered: “Ge Qian, I just read the notice—three hundred apartments were allocated, but only two hundred sixty were taken. Over thirty are still empty, reserved specifically for imported technical talent.”

“So if you just get married to Huang Zhisheng and bring him into our factory, you won’t even need to queue—you’ll get new housing immediately.”

Zhang Jing fell silent, sullenly sipping her soup.

But she kept going: “The criteria for technical talent import aren’t low, but Huang Zhisheng meets them perfectly!

Since reform and opening, all college graduates get automatic approval, starting salary at least two hundred yuan—he came by the other day, didn’t he? He’s clearly trying to rekindle things—just push a little, and you’ll turn your life around!”

“Enough. I’m full. Eat slowly.”

Ge Qian gulped down the egg drop soup, grabbed her lunchbox, and returned to the workshop.

Her best friend was always offbeat, coming up with wild ideas.

Huang Zhisheng, Zhang Jing, and Ge Qian were all high school classmates; once, there had been something ambiguous between him and Ge Qian.

But then he got into university, was assigned to a research institute a year ago, and the other day just came by for a chat—was he really trying to restart things?

And over the years, Ge Qian had learned one truth: when it comes to life, you must rely on yourself.

Head down, Ge Qian walked to the notice board and suddenly saw several staff from the General Affairs Section tearing down the red housing allocation lists and replacing them with a new white notice.

She asked, puzzled: “Director Qin, wasn’t that list just posted this morning? Many people haven’t seen it yet—why tear it down?”

“Don’t mention it—the plant manager went to the main plant this morning and got scolded. Workers complained to headquarters that our new dormitory is a shoddy construction, so housing allocation is suspended.”

“Suspended? So… no allocation?”

“Yes, temporarily suspended. Who’s the bastard who pulled this? I check those buildings every day—cement and rebar were used generously—how could they be shoddy?”

“Hmph, obvious—the main plant is jealous! Many cadres haven’t gotten new housing yet, but we workers are moving in. They don’t care about the masses—they’re masters at sabotage.”

“.”

The General Affairs Section staff grumbled as they left. Ge Qian stepped closer to the notice board and read the new announcement.

【For the safety of employees, professional inspection agencies will assess the staff welfare housing. Specific housing arrangements will be notified after further review.】

“Hmph~”

Ge Qian sneered, turned, and walked back to the workshop.

She’d heard this kind of excuse countless times over the years—but in the end, few were ever truly “for the employees’ benefit.”

【How can one person fight against a crowd?】

During lunch break, Ge Qian worked overtime on her tasks—each extra piece meant a few more yuan, and each yuan strengthened her resolve.

But she hadn’t worked long before loud, escalating commotion erupted outside—then spiraled out of control.