PDLP Chapter 7 Calm
Chapter 7 Calm
"By the way, do you have any candy at home?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Jiang Cheng knew he had said the wrong thing.
Although sugar has become so ubiquitous as a condiment in later generations, it was a scarce strategic resource in the 1970s and 80s. People could only buy it in rations with "sugar coupons," and it was only the coarsely processed brown sugar.
"Is rock sugar okay? My dad brought a small bag of rock sugar with him when he came."
"Oh, Dad's here?" Jiang Cheng's heart skipped a beat. "He didn't yell at you, did he?"
"No," Zheng Yanxi answered softly, opening the bag and handing three rock candies to Jiang Cheng.
"Alright, this will do," Jiang Cheng thought to himself, while lamenting how harsh the living conditions were for the general public back then.
Pour in the eggs, and a plate of delicious and visually appealing scrambled eggs with tomatoes is ready to serve.
"Try it." Jiang Cheng handed over the chopsticks.
Zheng Yanxi picked up a piece with her chopsticks, her eyes lighting up: "It's really delicious."
"Cooking isn't actually that hard, it just takes practice," Jiang Cheng said. "Your dad came to the factory today."
Zheng Yanxi paused, her chopsticks still in her hand. "What...what did he say?"
"He didn't say anything bad," Jiang Cheng said. "He saw the rolling mill thing and even praised me."
Zheng Yanxi breathed a sigh of relief: "That's good. My dad seems serious on the surface, but he's actually soft-hearted."
"I know," Jiang Cheng said. "By the way, he might come again. We'll cook for him together then."
Zheng Yanxi nodded, a slight smile appearing on her face.
The next day, Huang Deqing and Jiang Cheng wrote a detailed report. After Zheng Huaiyuan reviewed it, he offered several suggestions for revision, which Huang Deqing then handed over to Factory Director Zhou.
After reviewing the report, Director Zhou immediately approved the plan: "Go with this plan! The technical department will provide full cooperation. Just let us know what resources you need."
Over the next few days, Jiang Cheng and Huang Deqing, along with several apprentices, repaired the rolls—grinding away the cracks and then re-surface-treating them. Meanwhile, the technical department adjusted the rolling process, reducing the rolling force and improving the billet heating regime.
A week later, the rolling mill was restarted.
On the day of startup, Factory Director Zhou, the technical department, Huang Deqing, and Jiang Chengdu stayed in the workshop. With the roar of the motor, the first steel billet smoothly passed through the rolling mill, becoming a flat steel plate. The second, the third… everything was normal.
"We did it!" Cheers erupted in the workshop.
Factory Director Zhou shook Huang Deqing's hand: "Old Huang, well done!" He then patted Jiang Cheng on the shoulder: "Young Jiang, you've done a great job this time!"
Jiang Cheng scratched his head and smiled, "It's all thanks to my master's excellent teaching."
Huang Deqing glared at him: "Come on, I didn't teach you any of this. You figured it out yourself."
Everyone laughed.
The news quickly spread throughout the factory. Jiang Cheng went from a "prodigal son" to a skilled technician, and people would greet him on the street. When Wang Yun from the medical station heard about it, she said sourly, "Hmph, a blind cat catching a dead mouse."
But most people admire him. Especially those who used to look down on Jiang Cheng, now they all look at him with new respect.
Zheng Huaiyuan came to the factory again, this time specifically to see Jiang Cheng. He took Jiang Cheng to the library of Shenyang Institute of Technology and got him a library card.
"There are many books on mechanics here, you can take a look," Zheng Huaiyuan said. "If you have any questions in the future, you can also ask me."
Jiang Cheng was extremely grateful: "Thank you, Dad."
Upon hearing Jiang Cheng's address and seeing the sincerity on his face, Zheng Huaiyuan's eyes softened: "Work hard and don't let your father down."
Jiang Cheng nodded heavily.
When Jiang Cheng returned home that evening, Zheng Yanxi had already prepared a table full of dishes—though they didn't look particularly appealing, they were edible. She blushed slightly when she saw Jiang Cheng: "I made them the way you taught me. Try them."
Jiang Cheng tasted each one and nodded in praise: "You've made great progress; you're ready to graduate."
Zheng Yanxi smiled, pursing her lips. It was the first time Jiang Cheng had ever seen her smile; it was as if an iceberg had melted.
"Did my dad contact you today?" she asked.
"Okay, take me to the academy to borrow books," Jiang Cheng said. "Your dad is a nice guy."
Zheng Yanxi lowered her head and ate her food. After a while, she said, "He used to be strict with everyone, especially me. Maybe he just wanted me to be happy."
"Yes, we will." Jiang Cheng held her hand. "We'll get better and better together in the future."
Zheng Yanxi did not pull her hand away, but simply hummed softly.
Outside the window, moonlight streamed into the room, illuminating the newlywed couple. With the rolling mill issue resolved, their relationship had taken a new step forward.
The factory held a commendation meeting the week after the rolling mill was successfully repaired.
Jiang Cheng stood on the stage, a big red flower pinned to his chest, clutching his certificate and fifty yuan in his hand, surrounded by a dense crowd. Factory Director Zhou personally presented him with the award, shaking his hand and saying, "Little Jiang, keep up the good work! The factory needs young people like you who are willing to work hard!"
Sparse applause rang out from below the stage. Jiang Cheng glanced around and noticed that some people's expressions were a bit off—Old Meng, the head of the technical department, had a forced smile, several senior technicians kept their heads down and wouldn't look at him, and even his usual buddies in the machine repair workshop had something indescribable in their eyes.
After the commendation ceremony ended, Jiang Cheng had just stepped out of the conference room when he was stopped by someone.
"Congratulations, Master Jiang." The man was in his early thirties, wearing glasses, with a long, thin face, and his eyes narrowed into slits when he smiled. Jiang Cheng recognized him; he was Sun Jianguo, an assistant engineer in the technical department.
"Hello, Mr. Sun." Jiang Cheng nodded politely.
Sun Jianguo leaned closer and lowered his voice, saying, "Master Jiang has really made a name for himself this time. But there's something I'm not sure if I should say—"
"Speak frankly, Mr. Sun."
"Then I'll be frank." Sun Jianguo looked around. "You've taken all the credit for the rolling mill, and some people are unhappy about it. Especially Section Chief Meng. So many people in his technical department didn't find the problem, but you, a fitter, discovered it. He's losing face. And those two experts from the province, I heard they're also trying to find out your background."
Jiang Cheng's heart sank, but his face remained expressionless: "Engineer Sun is right, I'll remember that."
Sun Jianguo patted him on the shoulder: "I'm doing this for your own good, after all, we work in the same factory. If anything happens in the future, let's communicate more." Then he left.
Jiang Cheng stood there, watching Sun Jianguo's back, and felt that the man's smile was a bit fake.
When he got home that evening, he told Zheng Yanxi about it. Zheng Yanxi was learning to mend clothes; after listening, she put down her needle and thread and looked at him seriously: "Do you think what he said is true?"
"It's probably true." Jiang Cheng sighed. "I did stand out a bit this time. My master taught me that the nail that sticks out gets hammered down."
Zheng Yanxi was silent for a while, then said, "My dad used to say that to work in a factory, you need to be capable, but you also need to know how to hide it. But you've already made a name for yourself, so there's no point in hiding it now."
"What should we do then?"
"Just do what you're supposed to do," Zheng Yanxi said. "As long as you do your job well, no one can find fault with you. As for those people, just don't offend them."
Jiang Cheng looked at her: "You seem to understand things quite well."
"I grew up in a college compound, and I've seen this kind of thing all the time." Zheng Yanxi lowered her head and continued sewing. "Places where intellectuals congregate are more complicated than factories."
Jiang Cheng laughed: "Then why did you choose me in the first place? I'm not simple either."
Zheng Yanxi didn't look up, but her ears turned red: "You're the one I chose, it's different."
These words warmed Jiang Cheng's heart. He leaned over to look at the work in Zheng Yanxi's hands—one of his work clothes, with a tear in the sleeve, which Zheng Yanxi was clumsily sewing, the stitches crooked and uneven.
"How about I do it?" Jiang Cheng said.
"No need, I can learn it." Zheng Yanxi stubbornly shook her head.
Jiang Cheng said nothing more and sat beside her watching her sew. In the dim light, her profile was quiet and focused, occasionally wincing when she pricked her finger, but she didn't make a sound. Jiang Cheng suddenly felt that this kind of ordinary life was actually quite nice.
But he knew that the peace was only temporary.
The next day at work, Jiang Cheng noticed the changes.