In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 35. Reporting to the Factory Office
The courtyard of the Shikumen gate still carried the slight chill of last night in the early morning.

Zhang Xiuying got up early, her eyes fixed on the cubicle door. With a creak, the door opened, and her son, Yang Guangming, walked out in brand-new clothes. Her eyes lit up immediately.

The brand-new white "Dacron" short-sleeved shirt, with its crisp fabric like freshly pasted window paper, made his shoulders appear even broader and his back straight as a pine tree.

The dark blue khaki trousers had creases ironed to a razor-sharp edge, and the cuffs hung meticulously over the gleaming black leather shoes.

What's most eye-catching is the Shanghai brand watch on his left wrist, which is about 70% new. The silver case rests firmly on his wrist, and the second hand moves at a steady pace.

Zhang Xiuying couldn't help but take two quick steps, reaching out to straighten her son's already impeccable collar. Her fingertips slid over the stiff, smooth fabric, and joy and pride almost overflowed from her eyes:

"Oh my, Mingming looks absolutely radiant today! Dressed in this outfit and wearing this watch, he looks exactly like a cadre!"
Clothes make the man, and gold plating makes the Buddha—that's absolutely true!

Look at him, his eyebrows are eyebrows, his eyes are eyes, his nose is very straight, and his chin is well-defined. He's even more handsome than the leading men in movies!

Finally, our family has produced a decent cadre!

Her voice trembled, and every word sounded sweet.

Yang Guangming grinned, revealing his neat white teeth: "Mom, if you keep talking, I'm really going to float up to the sky."

"Stop floating around! Keep your feet on the ground!" Zhang Xiuying said playfully, but the smile in her eyes deepened, like shattered sunlight. "Hurry up and eat breakfast, we'll walk together today!"

The mother and son quickly ate a thicker bowl of rice porridge with pickled cucumbers than usual.

Yang Guangming carefully checked a stack of papers related to his "identity," including his household registration book, graduation certificate, and a letter of introduction from the neighborhood committee. After confirming that everything was correct, he solemnly put them into his inner pocket.

Zhang Xiuying also changed into her most presentable set of faded blue work clothes, making her look energetic.

Pushing open the heavy, black lacquered door, the early summer morning breeze, carrying the fresh scent of sycamore leaves, rushed towards me.

The mother and son walked out of the alley side by side and joined the flow of people going to work.

Zhang Xiuying's steps were light and quick, like stepping to the beat of a drum. She would occasionally turn her head, her gaze fixed on her tall and upright son beside her, and the smile on her lips seemed to be etched on her face, lingering for a long time.

The magnificent red brick gate of the Hongxing State-owned Cotton Mill became increasingly clear in the field of vision.

On the huge gateposts, the bright red slogan "Seize the opportunity, promote production" is eye-catching, like a solidified flame.

The factory gate was already bustling with people. Workers in various overalls rode bicycles, their bells ringing in a cacophony of sounds. On foot, workers hurried to their respective posts.

The air was filled with the slightly sweet scent of cotton wool, the heavy smell of machine oil, and the complex aromas rising from the canteen's breakfast stalls—a unique and vibrant breath of the factory.

As soon as Zhang Xiuying entered the factory, she encountered many familiar faces.

"Xiuying! Good morning!" a familiar textile worker called out.

Good morning, Master Wang!

Zhang Xiuying's voice instantly rose a few decibels, filled with barely suppressed excitement. She then pushed Yang Guangming forward with an undeniable force: "Here, this is our youngest son, Yang Guangming!"
Today is my first day reporting for duty. I've been assigned to the secretariat of the factory affairs office as a clerk! I'm a cadre!

She emphasized the words "factory affairs office," "secretary group," and "cadre establishment" clearly, her smugness as bright as a flag.

The female worker, addressed as Master Wang, looked Yang Guangming up and down in surprise, her eyes sweeping over his brand-new clothes and silver watch like searchlights, clicking her tongue in amazement.

"Oh my! Incredible! Incredible! Xiuying, you are so incredibly lucky! This young man is handsome and talented, with a full forehead and a square jaw. He's clearly destined for great things. He'll be a government official; his future is limitless! Congratulations!"

Similar scenes played out several times on the way to the workshop.

Zhang Xiuying, like a proud hen with fully grown wings, eager to show off her treasures, tirelessly and solemnly introduces her "cadre son" to every familiar or merely acquainted coworker.

Yang Guangming followed closely behind his mother, always wearing a humble and polite smile, and responded with a polite nod to every curious, envious, or scrutinizing glance.

He knew in his heart that the liveliness his mother had created was just the prelude; the real test would be in that quiet office building.

When they reached the fork in the road leading to the administrative office area and the workshop, Yang Guangming stopped and said, "Mom, you go to the workshop first. We can go to the reporting area ourselves, so don't delay your work time."

“How can that be? I’ll go to the factory office with you…” A hint of unease flashed across Zhang Xiuying’s face, and she hesitated.

"No need, no need," Yang Guangming said gently, but with an undeniable firmness. "I know Director Han's office, and Director Zhao has also taken care of things. Don't worry, I can handle things myself."

He knew very well that his mother's presence and warmth were actually detrimental to his ability to face the deep, unspoken challenges of his new environment alone.

Looking into her son's calm and steady eyes, Zhang Xiuying finally nodded. There was a reassuring power in those eyes.

"Well... be careful yourself, be sweet-talking, quick-handed, and keep your eyes open!"

"Understood, Mom." Yang Guangming watched his mother walk towards the roaring workshop, turning back every few steps, before straightening his crisp clothes, taking a deep breath of the oily air, and heading towards the factory office building that represented power and authority.

Instead of going directly to the factory affairs office, he headed directly to the office of Deputy Factory Director Zhao Guodong.

"Du, du, du."

Yang Guangming gently knocked on the door of the room with the dark wooden sign that read "Deputy Factory Director".

"Come in!" Zhao Guodong's familiar, rugged voice, bearing the mark of a soldier, came from inside.

Yang Guangming pushed open the door, stood at attention, and said in a clear and strong voice, "Good morning, Director Zhao!"

Zhao Guodong, who was bent over his desk reviewing documents, looked up and his gaze, sharp as lightning, fell on Yang Guangming.

When his gaze swept over the brand-new, impeccably dressed outfit and the silver watch on his wrist that still gleamed under the indoor light, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, which quickly turned into undisguised admiration.

"Oh, Xiao Yang!" Zhao Guodong put down his pen, a smile spreading across his face. "You look much more energetic and spirited in this new outfit! You look quite presentable! Good, that's the kind of spirit young people should have!"

(End of this chapter)