The 1970s: Military Family Beauty

It is cold in March, but still warm.

It has been a week since Jiang Furong returned from the capital with honors. She has a lot of things to do and is busy every day.

That day she received photos from a photo studio in Beijing, and also received the third letter from Wei Heng.

Looking at the strong and powerful handwriting on the envelope, Jiang Furong didn't realize that the corners of her mouth had already curled up slightly.

Zhu Mingzhen smiled and asked, "Xiao Jiang, there's another letter from home. Are you so happy?"

"Yes!" Jiang Furong kept smiling and put the letter into her bag without explaining who wrote it.

She knew that everyone was very curious about her now, and was wondering how powerful her background was.

She could only try to keep a low profile and speak as little as possible when working as a statistician, or not speak at all if possible.

Lin Zhaodi also received the photos. She turned around, blinked, and said, "Xiao Jiang, are you going to Li Hui's dormitory at noon to look at the photos?"

They all took photos in Tiananmen Square, and after returning to the factory, they counted the days and looked forward to receiving the photos as soon as possible.

Now I received photos of nine people at once. You can imagine how lively it was in the dormitory at noon.

Jiang Furong shook her head gently: "I still have things to do, you guys just watch."

Lin Zhaodi smiled knowingly, knowing that Jiang Furong was going back to the dormitory to revise the manuscript, so she didn't ask any more questions.

After returning from the capital, Jiang Furong wrote a long article entitled "A Tribute to Female Workers" to record her trip to the capital.

Director Liao thought the diary-style article was very distinctive, so he asked Jiang Furong to write the content in more detail and richer. After he reviewed it again, he could put it on the radio station for continuous broadcast.

Jiang Furong agreed with Lin Zhaodi that she must keep the secret for her until the manuscript was accepted.

As Jiang Furong's first listener, Lin Zhaodi now obeys Jiang Furong's words. She not only helps her keep secrets, but also considerately helps her eliminate interference and covers for her when others ask questions.

Jiang Furong returned to Room 405 alone.

The dormitory was empty and Xiong Juanjuan had hidden away again.

Jiang Furong closed the door, sat down in front of the window, took out two letters calmly, and looked at the photos first.

The photo was taken on grainy photographic paper, and both the subject and the scenery behind them appear very clear.

The photographer chose a very clever shooting angle, capturing all the famous sights of Tiananmen Square in full view, and there were no tourists who shouldn't be in the picture.

The afternoon sun shines on the windowsill and the sky is blue.

"My new life is good, my colleagues are very friendly, and I live a fulfilling life every day. Take a photo nearby, don't worry." Jiang Furong wrote several letters in one breath, but the letter to Wei Heng was the shortest, and the upper left corner was left blank.

She was hesitating about how to address Wei Heng appropriately.

Calling him Darling is too avant-garde and it would definitely not work. At this time, calling him Squad Leader Wei seems too unfamiliar, and calling him Old Wei seems too familiar.

Jiang Furong herself felt it was corny to call him Brother Wei like Jiang Zhaohui did.

She opened Wei Heng's letter, which began as usual, "Furong, it's like seeing you in person. I miss you so much."

When they were in the family compound, Wei Heng called her Jiang Furong by her full name, and there was no sign of intimacy in his words and actions.

I didn’t expect that writing a letter could be so romantic. The word “I miss you” gave me an electric shock feeling.

After the word "missing you", there were three pages of letter paper filled with a lot of words, telling her about the books he had read recently, saying that he had started learning to play badminton, and that he had asked someone to buy her a pair of carbon rackets, and he would send them to her when the time comes.

He also told her that he had taken some time to go back to the family compound to visit her grandmother and aunt on her behalf, and that her younger brothers and sisters were all doing well.

Wei Heng missed her just as she thought.

Jiang Furong looked at the words "Don't worry" she had written again and felt really guilty.

But she felt there was really nothing to write about.

First of all, it was her own working environment. Everything was just as Wei Heng had seen: a large factory with closed management and very safe. There was nothing she needed to explain.

Then there's her adaptability. She knows the abacus formulas by heart, and using an abacus and mental arithmetic, she tallies figures quickly and accurately, keeping her ledgers neat and beautiful. Several senior accountants in the finance department praise her. But that's what she should do, without any pressure or grievances to vent.

She also contributed articles to increase her income, but that was out of selfish motives and was not appropriate to mention in the letter.

As for her becoming the captain of the choir, the factory said it was only temporary and there was no further news at the moment, so of course there was no need to write it in the letter.

After Jiang Furong's screening and filtering, there was very little that could be written, and the letter to Wei Heng finally looked like a meaningless briefing.

She wrote down a few options on a piece of scratch paper, wondering how to make the letter longer.

The union clerk who lived on the same floor knocked on the door and said, "Xiao Jiang, Director Liao has announced that we will have a meeting at 2:00 PM."

Jiang Furong raised her wrist to check the time. There were still fifteen minutes left. If she sent the letter now, she could still catch up with the postman who was collecting letters that day. Then she would still have time to run to the office for the meeting.

She hurriedly stuffed the written letter into the envelope and trotted to the mailing agency, not paying attention to what was written on the back of the draft paper she used to wrap the photos.

Later in the afternoon, we had a meeting. The factory wanted to submit several programs to participate in the city’s May Day Labor Gala, and the chorus was the best choice for the main force.

Jiang Furong took on a new task and was so busy that she forgot the slight guilt she felt for writing a short letter.