This is bad. Falling down the stairs could take half her life.

It seemed the textile factory was destined to be her nemesis—on the very first day, she had an accident.

While she silently lamented, a hand suddenly appeared around her waist. The person pulled her close, spinning gracefully while gripping the stair railing with the other hand to steady them both.

“Are you alright?”

A deep voice sounded in her ear. Dai Qing blinked, pulling a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe away her tears. She took a deep breath, though her hand gripping the railing was still pale from the shock.

“I’m fine…” She said, but it was obvious she wasn’t—her tears kept falling.

“I’m sorry, I was in too much of a hurry going downstairs and startled you.”

The man released her, stepping back. He looked at her tear-streaked face, his expression full of apology.

Dai Qing finally took a proper look at him. He was wearing green military fatigues with a belt around his waist and black combat boots on his feet. He seemed to be around 6’2”, with a sharp, cold expression and a gaze that was as piercing as a predator’s.

Just from his demeanor, he seemed like someone who wasn’t easy to approach.

Moreover, his appearance reflected his destiny—his “official luck palace” was bright and smooth, showing that he was someone who wouldn’t get into legal trouble. Most notably, his “wealth palace” was full and radiant, marking him as someone destined for wealth. However, his “health palace” had signs of old injuries, particularly on his limbs.

But the most critical part was that his “life palace” had suddenly changed—it was shrouded in a faint black aura with specks of crimson mixed in. A single glance told her that this man was destined for a blood-related incident today.

“I’d advise you to stay cautious today, or you’ll end up shedding blood.”

She figured this warning would repay the favor for saving her just now.

Hearing her words, the man froze, then a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Didn’t expect to run into a fortune teller today. You’re young, yet you’re dabbling in superstition. Watch out, or your words might get you in trouble.”

“Brother Hao… We need to go. Things are falling apart over there.”

Another man ran up to them, his eyes instantly gleaming with curiosity when he saw the two staring at each other.

“What’s going on here? Brother Hao, did you make her cry?”

Cheng Hao shot him a glare before turning back to Dai Qing. “My name is Cheng Hao. If you feel unwell, come find me on the second floor at the security office.”

With that, he didn’t wait for her response and left.

From afar, she could still hear their voices.

“Brother Hao, boss, who was that girl?”

“Stop asking questions. How’s the situation outside…?”

As their voices faded into the distance, Dai Qing calmed herself and headed toward the HR department.

The person receiving her was the same head of HR department from her previous life—Chief Zhao.

Instinctively, she glanced at his face. His “official luck palace” was flat, his overall aura calm but tinged with a grayish hue. Although his position as department head was stable, there was no chance of further promotion. However, his “wealth palace” was full and radiant, showing he was financially well-off.

After all, a department head at a textile factory wasn’t likely to be short on money.

“Chief Zhao, hello. Here’s my introduction letter and employment notice.”

Chief Zhao glanced over the documents and didn’t give her a hard time. “So, you’re Old Dai’s granddaughter. The factory director has mentioned your grandfather. You’ve been assigned to the pre-spinning department as a carding machine operator.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a form from the drawer, stamped it with a red seal in front of her, and handed it over.

“Take this to Foreman Guo at the pre-spinning department. He’ll get you set up.”

“Thank you, Chief Zhao.”

With the stamped paper in hand, Dai Qing made her way to the pre-spinning department. As soon as she stepped into the factory corridor, she was greeted by the clanging of machines. She knew it was the sound of looms in the post-spinning department. The air was filled with the sharp, sour smell of starch.