Chapter 27: Am I Really This Handsome?

In a factory of more than fifty thousand people, there were only a little over fifty middle managers, most of whom were women; together with Jiang Fan, there were only four men in the cafeteria. The environment of the managers' cafeteria was much better than the main dining hall, without the usual crowding.

A serving of greens, seven or eight slices of pork—three parts lean, seven parts fat. One could hardly distinguish whether the meat was stir-fried or simply boiled, lacking color and appearing rather greasy. The only thing that set the managers’ meal apart from the regular staff’s was a few extra pieces of chicken breast.

Despite the simple fare, Jiang Fan, who had rarely tasted meat since childhood, felt immensely satisfied.

He sat at the seat chosen for him by the cafeteria manager, placed the newly purchased rice bowl and spoon beside him, picked up the factory-issued fork, and tucked into his meal with gusto, savoring the food that marked his managerial status.

When he reported for duty, the HR director had kindly handed him a factory uniform emblazoned with the company emblem and reminded him, “You’ll be accompanying the boss on trips at any time, so you don’t need to wear the uniform.”

The HR director had wanted to add that those in his position usually had two sets of fashionable clothes tailored for such occasions, but as Chen Anlong had given no such instructions, he held his tongue, not wishing to please an assistant only to offend the boss.

New hires arrived daily, so no one was surprised, but appointing a new middle manager caused a stir. The other diners eyed Jiang Fan with curiosity, noting that while he wasn’t in uniform, he wore a factory badge. Occasionally, glances were cast his way during the meal.

Those seated nearby, able to see the words “Deputy Security Manager” on his badge, recognized him as an assistant to the higher-ups. Some, seeing his title, greeted him in a familiar manner, hoping to establish a rapport. In a factory where jobs were hard to come by, no one wanted to offend anyone connected to the boss.

To these fellow wanderers, regardless of their motives, Jiang Fan responded warmly to their greetings, presenting a very different face than he did to the cafeteria staff.

A friendly smile easily fosters connections. In just one meal, Jiang Fan had already befriended two sewing line supervisors, a deputy manager from the molding department, and three young women.

The three girls were just in their early twenties, the eldest only twenty-two. These young women, similar in age to Jiang Fan, were already seasoned by years of migrant work. One of them, Ah Miao, not yet twenty-one, had been drifting from place to place for five years.

To attain a middle management position at such a young age, beyond having some connections in the factory, it was their hard work that set them apart among the masses of workers.

The managers’ cafeteria also offered the privilege of not having to clear their own trays.

Jiang Fan ate quickly. As he finished and was about to leave, Ah Miao, who still had half her meal left, pretended to be full, set down her bowl, and hurried after him, asking softly, “Deputy Manager Jiang, there’s no overtime this Sunday. Do you have any plans?”

Ah Miao stood about 160 centimeters tall. She wasn’t especially beautiful, but above average—her petite face framed by bright, lively eyes, giving her a cute and spirited impression.

Barely acquainted and already asking if he was free? Jiang Fan, curious, asked directly, “Is there something you need?”

Blushing at his straightforwardness, Ah Miao hesitated, then bravely replied, “I’d like to invite you to watch a movie.”

Jiang Fan politely declined, “Maybe next time. If I have this weekend off, I might meet with some friends.”

Thanks to Hao Meng’s guidance, Jiang Fan’s emotional intelligence had improved. Seeing the look on Ah Miao’s face, he wondered to himself, “Am I really that handsome? On my first day at the factory, a girl is already asking me out?”

Hearing that he hadn’t flatly refused and had even mentioned a ‘next time,’ Ah Miao replied happily, “Next time for sure!” and ran away shyly.

Lunch and break together lasted only an hour before the factory resumed work.

Finally entering the factory he had dreamed of, Jiang Fan should have been happy, yet he felt a nameless, inexplicable emotion, unable to find any real joy.

With nothing to do, he wandered around the factory grounds like a visitor.

Dafeng Shoe Factory had twelve buildings and one office block.

Entering the main gate, one encountered a five-story office building with tiled walls. Behind it, two rows of production workshops stood in neat order. Further back were the dormitories, the cafeteria, and a basketball court.

The production workshops bustled with activity, while the dormitory area was quiet, save for the occasional patrolling security guard. Jiang Fan strolled to the stone steps by the basketball court, lay down, and gazed at the sky, lost in thought.

With the start of his wandering life, whenever things quieted down, Jiang Fan would think of that campus in Beijing—a deep regret in his heart.

The vast basketball court, with only one solitary figure, seemed particularly desolate.

As Jiang Fan lingered by the court, reminiscing about college days, an unexpected figure appeared at Guangzhou Tianhe Airport.

At the airport’s exit, a burly, imposing man in his forties held up a sign made from stiff cardboard. Beside him, a young man in his twenties said quietly, “Director Liang, let me hold the sign. You don’t need to trouble yourself with such a small thing—it makes me feel awkward just standing here.”

The burly man replied genially, “I’ve got hands and feet just like you. Why should I let you do everything? And besides, this is a personal matter. I’ll take care of it myself. Stop fussing—the plane’s landed, and she should be out soon. Let’s pay attention, we don’t want to miss her.”

Soon, a tall young woman, about 170 centimeters, wearing sunglasses and carrying a combination lock suitcase, approached Director Liang. “You must be Uncle Liang. I’m Wen Yu Wang. Thank you for coming to meet me.”

Seeing the tall, delicate-featured, stunningly beautiful Wen Yu Wang introduce herself so politely, Uncle Liang quickly set down the sign and warmly shook her hand. “Now I can relax, seeing you here. When I visited Beijing years ago, you were just a little girl with two braids, wiping your nose with your sleeve. Now, in the blink of an eye, you’ve grown into a graceful young woman.”

“My father said you visited our home more than a decade ago. I was just a child then—it’s normal I’d have a runny nose. You’re not allowed to mention my childhood embarrassments,” she said, naturally playful, feeling at ease despite not remembering much.

“All right, all right, I won’t mention your childhood. From the way your father spoke on the phone, he didn’t really want you coming to Guangdong, but he couldn’t dissuade you and had to let you go. He also said you wanted to intern here. Can you tell me why?”

In the fourth year of university, students would leave campus for social practice in their final semester—a prime opportunity to find employment. Although Guangdong was in the midst of reform and opening up, Beijing was still the heart of the country. With her family background, Wen Yu Wang could easily have found a comfortable job in Beijing after graduation, so her decision to intern in Dongguan piqued Uncle Liang’s curiosity.