When He Qiutang sat in the examination room, she felt relieved as soon as she saw the exam paper. Most of the questions were roughly as her sister had predicted, but there were quite a lot of them, so she had to hurry and get started.
No matter what, He Qiutang had gone through modern “sea of questions” training and intense exam-oriented education in her previous life, so she still had some experience with exams—especially timed ones. She wouldn’t be disturbed by the rustling of papers around her, and if she encountered questions she had no idea about, she would quickly skip them and move on.
After the morning exam ended, He Qiutang felt exhausted—her hands were sore and her throat was dry. He Suyun had already prepared warm water for her. After drinking it, she didn’t ask how the exam went, since there were too many people around. Instead, she took her straight to the state-run restaurant.
“Let’s eat first. After lunch we’ll go to the textile factory. I have a place there where you can rest. Get some good rest, then we’ll continue the exam in the afternoon.”
“Sis, aren’t you going to ask me how I did?” He Qiutang asked while sitting on the back seat of the bicycle.
“What’s the point of asking? Can you go back and change your answers after I ask you? Hurry up. Even if you did badly in the morning, there’s still another session.”
He Qiutang was impressed by her sister’s attitude. She noticed that many family members were asking their children how they did—some looked completely defeated, others were overjoyed.
Two exam sessions were enough to drain a person completely. Moreover, the afternoon session included not only a written test but also an interview, where the examiners would ask all kinds of questions.
He Qiutang felt completely drained. As expected, she couldn’t underestimate people of this era just because she had transmigrated—everyone here was sharp.
After returning home, she barely ate anything and immediately fell asleep.
Shen Lanxiang looked at her youngest daughter’s condition and didn’t dare ask how she had done. If she remembered correctly, the eldest and second daughter had never been this exhausted after exams.
So she thought: It’s over—she didn’t pass!
He Suyun could guess what her mother was thinking, but she didn’t say anything. After all, she had seen many cases where people who had clearly passed ended up being envied because their parents were too loud about it. Sometimes even a settled result could be overturned by jealousy.
Instead, He Suyun told her mother to prepare some gifts in advance. Once the results came out, she planned to build some connections. If the result was bad or too poor, then forget it—treat it as networking. If it was just slightly short, someone might be able to help. And if she really passed, then they could ask for help arranging a better position.
After all, exam scores came out first, but job assignments were decided later. Without connections, by the time people learned their scores, the positions would already have been assigned.
“Oh right, Mom,” she said just as she was about to sleep, “when we went out today, a lot of people saw us and asked what we were doing. Your youngest daughter saw Xu Zikai and was worried he’d interfere with her exam, so she lied and said we went out to meet a matchmaker. If anyone asks later, don’t let it slip.”
Before falling asleep, He Suyun suddenly remembered and quickly reminded her mother.
Shen Lanxiang was torn—whether to be angry that Xu Zikai was bothering her daughter, or angry that her own daughter had a loose tongue.
He Suyun, meanwhile, skillfully turned off the light and got under the blanket to sleep. She, too, who had been accompanying the exam, was exhausted and had no mood to listen to her mother’s nagging, even if it was affectionate nagging.
At this time, Zhao Huai’an was still at the vehicle depot. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go home—rather, near the end of the workday, a vehicle had been driven back. But this car was no longer something that could even properly be called a “car.”
“I was able to drive it back at all already counts as impressive. You can go take a look. If it weren’t for my driving skills, we would’ve had to push it back halfway,” said Master Wang as he got out of the car. That was the first thing he said. The vehicle was damaged to such an extent that, without a special reason, he would definitely be held responsible for negligence.
Zhao Huai’an didn’t pay much attention to what came after. He could already tell how badly the car was worn out. What Master Wang said wasn’t an exaggeration—being able to bring it back at all was already impressive.
The depot also had experienced mechanics who could diagnose problems just by listening to the sound. They weren’t too worried about external damage; what they feared most was engine failure.
Soon, Master Wang was called to Director Cui’s office for a discussion. Everyone gathered around the vehicle, trying to figure out what had gone wrong and how to fix it. Although some people were secretly watching Master Wang make a fool of himself, most of them were relatively simple-minded and still cared about collective property issues.
Zhao Huai’an felt this might be his chance to prove himself.
He listened carefully and, through observation, identified the likely problem. When no one was paying attention, he pretended to go to the restroom and took out a book from his bag, quickly flipping through it. He actually already had a solution in mind, but since this model was slightly different from the ones in his previous knowledge, he needed to confirm it in the book—otherwise, he might try to show off and end up in trouble.
So Zhao Huai’an didn’t leave. As most people were watching the car and saw that it would take a while to repair, they gradually patted themselves off and went home, leaving only Master Jiang and a few veteran mechanics. Zhao Huai’an acted as an apprentice, handing them tools.
By the time most people had left and the experienced mechanics had already repaired what they thought was the issue, the car still didn’t work properly. Zhao Huai’an knew his opportunity had arrived. He picked up a tool and went straight under the car.
The veteran mechanics didn’t stop him—at this point, the car couldn’t really get any worse, and after working for so long they didn’t have the energy to interfere. “Master Jiang, try starting it again.”
The engine roared to life, and everyone’s eyes lit up. Yes—that was the right sound. No longer the wheezing of an old man, or the hoarse gasp of someone dying.