Chapter 17

Recently, Xin Qi could truly be described as someone riding high on a wave of good fortune. Not only had she found a job, but the thank-you letter she had previously written to Director Luo of the Women’s Federation was finally broadcast over the factory’s loudspeakers.

The announcer read the heartfelt letter with great emotion. In this era, with limited entertainment, even trivial neighborhood gossip could fuel days of discussion.

Because the letter used a pseudonym, at first, many workers and their families didn’t know who the letter was about.

But thanks to Wang Fengying’s booming loudspeaker, the entire factory soon found out who it was. Add to that the recent drama of the Xin family being raided—now everyone knew the name.

The Xin family had officially become famous in the machinery factory.

As the story spread, it became more and more exaggerated: Xin Guoping and his wife were practically turned into the cruel landlord Huang Shiren, and Xin Qi became the pitiful White-Haired Girl.

The White-Haired Girl couldn’t afford white salt; Xin Qi couldn’t afford white flour.

And the Women’s Federation became the great Party organization that had rescued the suffering women comrades.

For a while, the prestige of the factory Women’s Federation rose dramatically, encouraging many women facing difficulties at home or work to seek help from the Federation.

Luo Hongying felt both joy and sorrow—joy that the women trusted the Federation, sorrow that so many had suffered in silence.

Some of the problems they described were beyond the Federation’s ability to solve, yet when faced with pairs of eyes filled with hope, Luo Hongying simply couldn’t bring herself to say no.

In the past few days, she and the other Federation members held several meetings, but with little result.

Some of the staff, used to a more leisurely pace, were displeased with the sudden increase in workload and began slacking off.

The meetings became dull and lifeless. Frustrated, Luo Hongying took on all the work herself, staying up late every night.

Meanwhile, Xin Qi, who had been coming home late and leaving early, had no idea what was going on. She just noticed that Li Huilan seemed more polite—almost to the point of being ingratiating.

Xin Guoping, on the other hand, had grown increasingly irritable at home. Not daring to lash out at Xin Qi, he vented all his anger on Li Huilan.

In just a few short days, Li Huilan looked visibly worn out.

Xin Qi watched coldly from the sidelines. Truthfully, she’d never had much affection for her family.

Then came the final day of her probation at the repair shop. Jin Zhicheng told her to head home early. The repair shop was quite far from the factory housing area—over half an hour by bus.

She got off early and arrived at the housing compound just as the factory shift ended.

Now that she was a minor celebrity, many people greeted her warmly, even ones she didn’t recognize.

Some were even nosy enough to ask if her mom was letting her eat white flour now, or whether her sister had really stolen her money.

Xin Qi…

How did the whole factory end up knowing all about her family’s messy affairs?

She soon found out it was all because of that thank-you letter. After handing it to Luo Hongying, she had completely forgotten about it.

No wonder Li Huilan hadn’t dared to act up lately—probably too afraid of making headlines again.

Since Luo Hongying had helped her, Xin Qi decided to show her appreciation again. After all, maintaining relationships is important—you never know when you might need someone’s help.

When she visited again, she was surprised to see how worn-out Luo Hongying looked.

When Xin Qi expressed concern, Luo Hongying offered a bitter smile and briefly described the difficulties they were facing.

Xin Qi glanced at the thick stack of consultation and complaint records Luo had compiled and couldn’t help feeling moved.

The struggles women faced weren’t new—not only here, not only now.

Even in a major urban factory like this, there were so many cases of oppression. In more remote rural areas, those hardships were likely even worse and remained completely unheard.

Seeing Luo Hongying’s red, sleep-deprived eyes, Xin Qi felt a pang of sadness.

She had long since become desensitized to these injustices, even conditioned not to care.

But this was supposed to be an idealistic era—some people still carried the dream of liberating women and all humanity.

The problem was that the Women’s Federation lacked real enforcement power—no authority meant no deterrence, and many didn’t take them seriously.

Words alone did little; people only learned after they got hurt.

Suddenly, Xin Qi had a flash of inspiration. “Director Luo, I have an idea.”

“After my thank-you letter was broadcast over the factory speakers, my parents’ attitude toward me changed a lot.”

“I think broadcasting can be a powerful tool for deterrence. The Women’s Federation could collect letters or submissions about injustices and positive examples faced by women.”

“Kind of like a red-and-black list: red for role models, black for those lagging behind.”

“Once a year or every quarter, there could be a factory-wide vote, and at the end of the year, we could select a ‘Friend of Women’ and a ‘Public Enemy of Women.’”

“The ‘Friend of Women’ could receive awards or certificates, and the ‘Public Enemy’ could be punished with something like cleaning the factory grounds—harmless but publicly symbolic.”

In this era, people cared deeply about their reputation. Public praise or shame across the whole factory would be far more effective than mere verbal persuasion.

Luo Hongying’s eyes lit up. The more she thought about it, the more she felt this idea had potential. She was so excited she wanted to go speak to the factory leaders that very night.

Xin Qi understood her eagerness, but reminded her, “Some people may hesitate due to the belief that family shame shouldn’t be made public, so broadcasts should use pseudonyms.”

“And all submissions should be verified first to ensure they’re true and not exaggerated. We don’t want to create false accusations.”

“For those who refuse to change, repeat broadcasts could be used, etc…”

Of course, actually carrying this out would involve many difficulties Xin Qi couldn’t predict.

It would be up to those in charge to adapt and improve through practice.

They’d definitely face resistance, and offend many people. Xin Qi had no idea whether Luo Hongying could stick it out.

The idea might even be rejected by the factory leadership.

Xin Qi was only offering a concept—the rest wasn’t something she could control right now.

Luo Hongying was deeply moved. Xin Qi’s simple thank-you letter had opened doors for the Federation’s work, and this casual conversation had now offered a practical solution to a tough challenge.

Such a smart and sharp young woman—Luo Hongying genuinely admired her.

“Xiao Qi, have you considered working with the Women’s Federation? I remember you just returned to the city and haven’t been assigned a job yet.”

Xin Qi smiled, “I just passed the recruitment exam today. I’ll be handling formalities next Monday.”

Luo Hongying was surprised—she knew how hard it was to find a job these days. For Xin Qi to land one less than a month after returning proved how capable she was.

Luo Hongying suddenly felt like she’d lost a rare gem. “What kind of job is it? You know, you could still reconsider. For female comrades, working at the Women’s Federation is actually a great fit.”

“Our factory is big—good pay and decent benefits.”

Xin Qi replied simply.

“A trainee auto mechanic?!”