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She had to send Dongdong to kindergarten when she went to work.
Dongdong didn’t want to go to kindergarten. In a soft, babyish voice, he said, “I want to work too, to be with Mommy.”
An Huan couldn’t help but smile. “Adults go to work, children go to school. This is called fulfilling your duties. When Dongdong grows up, he can do grown-up things. Alright?”
Dongdong frowned. “When will I grow up? I want to work now.”
An Huan replied, “…It’s quite a long way off. I hope that when you grow up, you’ll still think this way.”
Dongdong, always obedient and understanding, finally turned away from An Huan reluctantly and went into the kindergarten, looking back every few steps.
Though it was called a kindergarten, it was more like a daycare center. The teachers, all military spouses, would lead the children in singing, dancing, and playing games.
When Dongdong’s small figure disappeared from her sight, An Huan couldn’t help but feel a little ache in her heart. At this moment, she couldn’t tell whether the feeling came from her body’s instinct or from her soul.
The Hongxing Food Factory was located on the other side of the river, at a state-owned factory that was just a six-minute walk away.
Though the food factory was situated in a small county, food products were essential for people’s livelihoods, and Hongxing was no small enterprise. The factory mainly produced canned goods and exported them to Eastern Europe. It was one of the few businesses in the province that brought in foreign exchange—aside from a mining company, it was the largest.
As soon as An Huan entered the factory gate, she felt a different atmosphere.
This was the peak hour for work, with a stream of people entering the gates. Everyone wore blue work uniforms, walking with their heads held high, their faces filled with pride in their profession.
People marched forward energetically, with the song “We, the workers, are powerful” blasting from loudspeakers. Their spirit was as bright as the sun at eight or nine in the morning, filled with positive energy.
It seemed that for them, going to work was not a forced task.
An Huan, used to the internet’s portrayal of workers’ frustration and gloom, couldn’t help but feel astonished at this stark contrast. They were all workers, but their attitudes were worlds apart.
“Ah—!”
“Make way, please—!”
A sudden, tense shout came from behind. Instinctively, An Huan jumped to the side, and she immediately heard a “clang.” Turning around, she saw a young woman who had fallen off her bicycle.
An Huan rushed over. “Are you alright?”
The young woman, supported by An Huan, slowly stood up, cautiously moving her ankle. After realizing there was no major injury, she sighed with relief. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
An Huan noticed a scrape on her elbow, with dirt still stuck to the wound. She said, “You should probably go to the infirmary to clean that up, it might get infected.”
The young woman glanced at her arm, shook her head, and said, “It’s a small issue. No need to go to the infirmary. I’ll just grab some hydrogen peroxide from the first-aid room and wash it myself.”
An Huan didn’t say more.
The young woman picked up her bike and smiled at her. “I’m Yang Tianjiao, from the Party Committee office. Which workshop are you from?”
“I’m from the factory office’s publicity department,” An Huan replied, pausing before adding, “I just started today.”
Yang Tianjiao was first puzzled, then suddenly understood. “I thought so. If you’re from the factory office or the party committee, there’s no one I don’t know. You must be new. Well, let’s go together! I’ll show you around.”
An Huan glanced at her bicycle. “It looks like your front tire’s flat. Can you still push it?”
Yang Tianjiao pointed to a direction with her chin. “It’s fine. Just turn that corner, and there’s a bike rack. I’ll lock it there for now and deal with it after work.”
As she spoke, a flash of anger crossed her face. “I’m sure my nephew is the one who punctured the tire. That little brat listens to his mom, and she’s always turning him against me!”
An Huan, a person who enjoyed chatting and hearing gossip, naturally asked, “What? How old is your nephew? He’s so thoughtless, he could have caused a bigger accident if he had fallen off his bike!”
“Eight years old!” Yang Tianjiao sighed. “When he was younger, he was really close to me. I liked him a lot, but in the end, an aunt can never compare to a mother. His mom gets him to think of me as his enemy, always yelling at me, asking when I’ll get married and move out.”
An Huan was indignant. “That’s too much. What does ‘their family’ even mean? That’s where you grew up, it’s your home too!”
Yang Tianjiao’s eyes reddened. “Exactly. My parents never said anything, so why does she have the right to say such things?”
On the way to the factory office building, the two chatted and joked as if they had known each other for years, despite just meeting.
An Huan wasn’t familiar with the reporting process, so Yang Tianjiao personally guided her through it. Afterward, she gave An Huan a tour of the entire factory office building, helping her get familiar with the environment quickly.
When the work bell rang, Yang Tianjiao left.
The publicity department had a decent number of people, all working in one large office. An Huan’s desk was placed in a corner near the wall, a little cramped but quite private. It gave her the feeling of sitting in the back corner of a classroom, which, for some reason, made her feel safe.
The section chief’s surname was Cai, a man in his forties, slow and methodical in his actions, always carrying a thermos cup.
On her first day, she wasn’t given much work, just some documents to read, such as the factory’s history.
At lunch break, Yang Tianjiao came to find An Huan to go to the cafeteria together.
An Huan shook her head. “I need to go home for lunch. I have a child at home.”
“Oh right, you mentioned you’re a military spouse from the opposite camp!” Yang Tianjiao suddenly remembered and looked at An Huan with surprise. “You already have a child? You look like you’re barely in your twenties.”
“I’m twenty-four, and my child is already four,” An Huan replied. She had been admitted to the music academy at 15, completed three years of university, graduated at 18, and got married at 19—an impulsive decision that led to an early marriage and motherhood.
“Tsk tsk, I’m one year older than you, and I still don’t even have a boyfriend.”
An Huan’s heart stirred. She remembered that Ling Hansong had been asking her to help him find a match, and she had been struggling to find someone suitable.
She took a careful look at Yang Tianjiao.
Her face was round and her features were delicate, fair-skinned—not the type of beauty that stunned at first sight, but she had a charm that grew the more you looked at her.
Through their conversation, An Huan learned quite a bit about Yang Tianjiao. She was a graduate of a vocational school, part of the educated youth of the post-90s generation, with a good education. Her family lived in the county, with her father being a police officer, her mother working at the street office, and her older brother working at a nearby chemical plant.
She was cultured, pretty, and had a solid family background. What’s more, her personality was cheerful and straightforward, similar to Ling Hansong’s.
Thinking this over, An Huan decided to ask carefully, “Are you looking for a boyfriend? What kind of person do you want?”
Yang Tianjiao joked, “Oh? Are you trying to set me up with someone? Well, my standards are high. He needs to be good-looking, hardworking, and cultured.”
This sounded just like Ling Hansong’s requirements.
An Huan smiled. “Don’t say that. I actually know someone who fits your criteria. I’m just not sure if you’d be willing to be a military spouse.”
Yang Tianjiao’s face reddened. “Are you serious?”
An Huan nodded. “This is no joke. But I should tell you, the person I have in mind is already in his thirties, five years older than you, and he has a gentle, scholarly look. I’m not sure if that’s to your liking.”
Yang Tianjiao blinked for a while, trying to stifle her embarrassment, then shook her head slightly and muttered, “N-No, I don’t mind.”