Chapter 9: Characters in a Play

Once just a reader, Lin Yingxian now watched the once-flat characters from the novel come to life with emotions of their own. The drama was entertaining, yet left her with a strange feeling.

She suddenly recalled a line of poetry: “My heart was once a bystander’s, but alas, I am now part of the play.” Though the line spoke of love and sorrow, it felt eerily fitting for her current situation.

Meanwhile, another drama was unfolding in the kitchen.

Tears welled in Yan Yingshu’s eyes. She spoke with a despondent tone, “Mom, I shouldn’t shamelessly stay here. I should go back to where I came from. My presence only makes everyone uncomfortable.”

Aunt Yan’s heart ached. “What nonsense! This is your home. Your aunt has always had a loose tongue—don’t take it to heart.”

Seeing the touching mother-daughter moment made Yan Qing uncomfortable. Still, she played the part of the gracious sister and comforted Yingshu. Yingshu responded with heartfelt apologies, expressing guilt over making Yan Qing feel uneasy.

Their emotional exchange filled Aunt Yan with relief and joy.

When it was time to eat, Father Lin and Uncle Yan came in from the courtyard where they’d been playing chess. They had no idea what had transpired while they were gone.

At the dinner table, everyone praised Yan Qing’s cooking. She blushed from the compliments.

Seeing her daughter so praised, Aunt Yan beamed. “Qingqing loves cooking. She says seeing people enjoy her food makes her happy.”

Zhou Donghong laughed, “Aunt, you’re so lucky to have two thoughtful and capable daughters by your side.”

Aunt Yan was pleased by the flattery and asked Zhou about her pregnancy. Zhou had been waiting for this question—she wanted Aunt Yan’s advice. Though not a gynecologist, Aunt Yan had a solid understanding of general medicine.

That night at home, Lin Yingwan and Zhou Donghong fought over a bag of candied kumquats. Father Lin, disgusted by their childish behavior, snatched the bag and threw it in the public toilet.

When he came back and saw both women crying over it, he grew even angrier. “One of you is about to be a mother, and the other’s been working for nearly two years, yet you’re acting like toddlers—fighting and crying over a bit of candy. No self-respect at all. Cry again, and get out. Don’t stay in my house.”

Both women immediately stopped crying. For once, the usually hostile pair shared a sense of mutual misery.

Lin Yingwei couldn’t understand how a snack could cause such a dramatic fight, so he stayed silent. He hadn’t even touched the kumquats—he didn’t like them.

Mother Lin and Father Lin always presented a united front, so naturally, she didn’t step in to mediate.

Lin Yingxian had eaten two of the kumquats and a few of the store-bought snacks Aunt Min had brought. She found the homemade ones far superior—delicious to the point of being addictive. After realizing this, her desire for them vanished.

She had thought the novel exaggerated people’s obsession with Yan Qing’s cooking, but now she realized it was real. Those with poor self-control could easily get hooked on her food.

…

At the pharmaceutical factory, union chairman Zhao Yijun picked up the Workers’ Daily as usual. One article caught his attention. It used Jiangcheng Pharmaceutical’s tablet workshop as an example, describing how workers had selflessly dedicated themselves during the high-incidence spring season, sacrificing rest and working tirelessly to protect public health.

The article mentioned both the factory leadership and the tablet workshop employees, vividly portraying their courage and responsibility. Zhao Yijun found the writing both grounded and emotionally resonant—clearly penned by someone with firsthand experience.

He glanced at the byline. It was a female author. Curious, he asked Secretary Li to check whether there was a Lin Yingxian working at the factory. Having a worker’s article published in a national paper was great publicity—it deserved recognition.

Secretary Li quickly found her: “A packaging worker in the tablet workshop. She’s not yet nineteen and joined the factory early last year—so not even two years ago.”

Zhao Yijun was surprised. Such a young, new worker? He wondered if someone had helped her write it. He told Secretary Li to investigate discreetly in the workshop.

Unable to find the workshop supervisor, Secretary Li randomly picked workers from different teams to ask about Lin Yingxian.

To his surprise, several workers recognized her and said she had helped their teams during high-demand periods. They described her as hardworking, responsible, and committed—even working through illness.

Secretary Li asked one of them, “Then why wasn’t she on the candidate list for the factory’s model worker award?”

The worker hesitated and dodged the question.

An older worker nearby muttered, “Why else? She didn’t have the kind of ‘strength’ the supervisor wanted.”

Secretary Li caught the underlying meaning and decided not to wait for the supervisor. He asked the workers to keep the conversation private.

When he arrived at the packaging station, he asked, “Which one of you is Comrade Lin Yingxian?”

The workers paused and looked toward a quiet girl sitting in the corner.

Lin Yingxian looked up. “I’m Lin Yingxian.”

Secretary Li was surprised—she looked delicate and soft-spoken. Based on the descriptions he’d heard, he had expected someone bolder and more commanding. He cleared his throat. “Comrade Lin, please step outside with me—I have something to discuss with you.”

“Okay.” She stood and followed him.

Outside, he stopped and looked at her. “Comrade Lin, Chairman Zhao read your article in the Workers’ Daily and sent me to ask for details. Please answer my questions honestly.”

“I will, Secretary Li.”

He asked why she wrote the article, how she chose the topic, any difficulties she encountered, and her thoughts on writing. Lin Yingxian answered each question thoroughly and logically.

Finally, he asked, “You weren’t included in the list for the model worker award. Do you feel wronged or upset, considering how much effort you put in?”