Chapter 8

After breakfast, Song Nian left the house and caught the bus to the Hongqi Factory. She arrived with plenty of time to spare.

She headed straight to the first sewing workshop, then into the changing room. In the corner, she found her locker and changed into the new set of work clothes she’d been issued.

The Hongqi Garment Factory uniform was a plain dark blue. On most people it looked simple and drab, but once Song Nian put it on, it became something else entirely.

The deep blue only made her skin look whiter than snow. The jacket and trousers, ordinary on others, fitted her slender shoulders and long legs so well that she looked strikingly refined.

When the work bell rang, Song Nian joined the other new hires. Each of the forewomen came with their lists to assign people. Song Nian, along with Zhang Man—the girl who had spoken to her during the interview—were both placed in the third team. The forewoman was none other than Zhang Yalan, the wife of the lecher Song Nian had met when she went to interview as a tutor.

It took no effort for Song Nian to see the hostility in Zhang Yalan’s eyes. So when she was assigned to the most complicated, error-prone task—attaching collars—she wasn’t surprised in the least.

What did surprise her was that someone actually spoke up on her behalf, risking Zhang Yalan’s displeasure to defend a new worker.

“Forewoman, attaching collars is usually done by skilled workers. Isn’t it inappropriate to give that task to a trainee?”

Song Nian turned and met a pair of concerned eyes. The round-faced woman was familiar—she realized it was the same worker she had encountered on the day she filled out her application form.

Zhang Yalan sneered. “Liu Pingping, am I the forewoman here, or are you?”

Liu Pingping flushed red. “I just think it’s not suitable to have a new person attach collars.”

Zhang Yalan scoffed. “Comrade Xiao Song was very skilled in her interview. The supervisor even praised her. I’m showing my trust in her, that she can handle it. If you have a problem with my arrangements, go complain to management.”

“I didn’t mean it like that…” Liu Pingping muttered, shrinking back.

The others began to suspect the forewoman simply had it in for the new girl.

But Song Nian wasn’t too bothered. Though she had never worked before, she had gone to school; she knew that wherever there were groups of people, some would like you, some would not. She was here to work. What she could do was focus on her job.

She took her seat at the assigned station, aware of curious glances from the others in the third team.

Those who knew Zhang Yalan were already whispering: this pretty newcomer was going to have a hard time.

After all, attaching collars and sleeves was the most difficult part of the job. Zhang Yalan had risen to forewoman precisely because of her skill with it, which made her untouchable in the workshop.

If she truly meant to “trust” a new worker and give her a chance, then why had she assigned her own niece Zhang Man to the easiest task—stitching fabric panels?

Two newcomers, yet one was given the hardest task, the other the simplest. It was obvious what the comparison would look like when the work was evaluated: productivity, error rate, wages—and whether or not a trainee even passed probation.

Zhang Man cast Song Nian a languid glance before returning to her own work.

She already knew: this little vixen was married and yet had still pretended to apply as a piano tutor in order to seduce her uncle. Absolutely shameless!

Around them, others waited expectantly, curious to see how this newcomer would flounder under the difficult task of attaching collars and sleeves.

But soon, to their surprise, something else happened.

They saw that once Xiao Song set her machine in motion, her work flowed like water. Whether attaching collars or sleeves, every move was smooth and confident.

Even more astonishing was how she looked while she worked.

Most of the women paid no attention to posture or bearing. But Song Nian’s every gesture carried a grace long cultivated: her slender neck, narrow shoulders, the natural elegance in every motion.

Even amid the noisy clatter of the workshop, she was no different than when she had been in her own home—calm, focused, utterly composed.

Seated right beside her, Liu Pingping noticed clearly: the entire morning, not a single one of Song Nian’s pieces had to be redone.

That level of skill was remarkable.

At her pace and accuracy, not only would she meet the monthly quota, she would surely exceed it and earn much more.

Song Nian, however, wasn’t thinking about that. She didn’t pay attention to the whispers around her. For her, the priority was simple: to do her work well and establish herself. Only then could she look after her suffering parents.

Because she worked quickly, she sometimes stood to stretch her neck and limbs. She knew well that health was the foundation of everything—sitting bent over without moving would only ruin her body in the long run.

Time slipped by, and before long the music over the loudspeaker signaled the lunch break. The women began tidying up, ready to head to the canteen.

Liu Pingping, friendly and enthusiastic, called over: “Comrade Xiao Song, let’s go eat together?”

Song Nian smiled at her. “Alright.”

Liu Pingping nearly turned into a starry-eyed girl on the spot.

Oh my, she’s so pretty, so gentle—and she smiled at me!

Just then, Song Nian was stopped by Zhang Yalan.

“Xiao Song, Xiao Zhang still has a few pieces to rush. To keep the team on schedule this afternoon, I’ll stay here and supervise her. You go get lunch for the two of us. Here, take the meal tickets.”

The others exchanged knowing looks.

Song Nian smiled.

If someone really needed a favor, they would ask someone familiar. Sending a brand-new worker to run errands was something usually reserved for apprentices.

She wasn’t Zhang Yalan’s apprentice, nor did the forewoman show any sign of looking out for her. It was pure bullying.

Most newcomers would swallow their pride, unwilling to make trouble so early on.

But Song Nian had no intention of enduring it. She knew this would not be the first time, nor the last. Unless she planned to spend her days meekly bowing her head, she had to draw the line now.

And truthfully, there had never been many people in her life she was willing to tolerate.

Zhang Yalan lifted her chin, casually handing over her and Zhang Man’s lunch boxes. Zhang Man’s face showed smug satisfaction.

But in the next second, the aunt and niece, along with the few women still lingering, heard Song Nian politely refuse:

“Sorry, Forewoman. I’ve got something to do after lunch, so I can’t fetch meals for you.”

Zhang Yalan’s expression hardened instantly. She pressed down with authority: “Xiao Zhang is working for the team’s progress, and you won’t help? Do you have no collective spirit?”

“Oh, I see.”

Song Nian tilted her head thoughtfully, then offered in earnest: “If Xiao Zhang still can’t keep up with the stitching this afternoon, I don’t mind swapping with her. I can handle stitching panels just fine.”

The implication was clear: if Zhang Man couldn’t manage even the simplest task, perhaps she wasn’t suited for it.

The aunt and niece’s faces turned ugly, yet there was nothing wrong in Song Nian’s words.

Even as forewoman, Zhang Yalan couldn’t lash out at a team member without cause. In the end, she could only sneer, retract the meal tickets and boxes, and throw Song Nian a cutting glance.

“Comrade Xiao Song certainly has a strong character.”

Song Nian nodded. “Thank you for the compliment, Forewoman.”

With that, she said no more and walked off without a backward glance.