On his first day at work, everything went surprisingly smoothly for Zhao Huaian.
At the beginning, Director Cui only gave him the lowest-tier待遇 (entry-level treatment). When he went to the HR office, it was the same. But by the afternoon, the situation had completely changed.
First, many of the apprentice workers who had been sent over turned out to be far below standard even after training. In a fit of anger, Director Cui sent them all back. He had originally thought the instructors were at fault, but now it seemed that some of these trainees were simply slacking off, while some instructors were indeed withholding skills.
Second, Zhao Huaian himself already knew how to repair vehicles. Combined with the “book” he had obtained from the system check-in, the instructor assigned to him quickly realized that if he revealed everything he knew, there would be nothing left to teach this young man.
But after thinking it over, the instructor refused. These were skills he had accumulated over many years, originally intended to pass down to his own son. How could he teach all of it to someone who wasn’t even his apprentice?
So he simply stood up, went to Director Cui, and said he couldn’t teach him anymore—not because the boy was stupid, but because he was too smart.
Director Cui paused mid-sip of his tea. Interesting kid.
He had learned driving in half an hour, and now, in less than two hours, even the mechanic couldn’t teach him anything unless he revealed his hidden knowledge.
After thinking it over, Director Cui decided to properly test Zhao Huaian. Since he truly had real ability, there was nothing to fear.
Although he lacked some experience-based skills, Cui could clearly see that this was only a matter of time—just like any technical skill, more practice would solve it.
So near the end of the workday, Director Cui stopped Zhao Huaian and gave him a new note, asking him to go through HR again.
It wasn’t that Cui was some talent-spotting mentor. The real reason was that after he dismissed those trainees in anger, leaders from various units had started calling him. So Cui simply used Zhao Huaian as an example to explain the situation.
The idea was: it wasn’t that those workers were bad—just that the comparison was too unfair. He couldn’t waste good young workers because of underperformers.
His superior also called to confirm the situation.
“Leader, our transport team has always been strict, but the quality of trainees from other units is really uneven. I’m also anxious. Teaching them wastes fuel and time—it’s not as good as someone talented who learns immediately. And this kid not only drives well, he’s basically already learned vehicle repair too. How could I not lean toward him?”
“Mm, that does make sense. Near the New Year, supplies are in short supply everywhere. We can’t waste too many skilled workers teaching those who can’t keep up. Give him probation-level Grade 5 treatment first, and let him start running routes around Beijing’s nearby rural towns next week.”
Director Cui nodded. He understood what the leader meant. Labor was scarce, resources were tight, and the New Year was approaching—there was no time for inefficient training.
When Zhao Huaian came out of HR again, he was extremely pleased.
Although he was still labeled as a trainee, his待遇 had already been raised to the lowest tier of a formal employee—40 yuan per month. On top of that, there would be travel subsidies depending on distance, plus grain coupons and other hidden benefits. No wonder everyone envied truck drivers.
But while he was happy, others were not. The remaining trainees were already trying to find out what kind of background he had.
When Zhao Huaian returned home, he immediately felt the oppressive atmosphere in the house.
He really wanted to ask whether the transport company had employee dormitories—even a shared room would be fine. As long as he could stay there, he didn’t want to live in this house anymore.
The 50-square-meter tube-shaped apartment had two rooms. His parents lived in one room, the three brothers shared another, and the eldest brother and sister-in-law lived in a small space separated off the balcony. In reality, each room wasn’t much different in size, and whatever space there was had been filled with cabinets and clutter.
It wasn’t just the crowding. In his previous life, he had also lived in a large family setup, but he was an only child with many cousins. This situation, however, was different—the Zhao family atmosphere had been tense for a long time due to work and going down to the countryside.
His parents worked at the machinery factory. His eldest brother, Zhao Huaiguo, had graduated at just the right time to avoid large-scale rural assignments. He also managed to secure internal job information from an uncle, landing a job at a slaughterhouse. Although it was hard and dirty work, it was tied to meat, so the family gritted their teeth and accepted it—at least it meant occasional meat at home.
But when it came to the second brother, Zhao Huaijia, things were worse. In 1968, large-scale rural assignments began in the autumn, and he just happened to be caught in that wave. Although their mother often complained about having too many sons, she still couldn’t bear to send him away. The whole family held a meeting, determined to keep at least one son in the city.
The money used to buy the eldest brother’s job also came from the family. After starting work, both he and the second brother handed most of their wages back to the household, keeping only a little for themselves.
At that time, Zhao’s parents told their remaining three sons:
“We don’t have that much ability. We can’t guarantee keeping all of you in the city. We can only do our best to keep one at a time.”
Their thinking was practical. Although they often complained about how expensive raising children was, they had saved quite a bit privately as well—especially after Zhao’s father was promoted to a Grade 6 worker, significantly increasing his salary.
In their eyes, it was already a compromise: the eldest son got a stable job, while the second son only managed to get a temporary position. There was no choice—circumstances forced their hand. Even temporary jobs were expensive now, and this one was only obtained because Zhao’s mother had a good relationship with an older coworker in the canteen, who was about to follow her son for military relocation and wanted to sell her job. The price was 150 yuan plus grain and cloth coupons.
But at that moment, Zhao Huaiguo suddenly announced that he was getting married—and to the most beautiful girl in the building, Zhou Cuicui.
The bride price alone was 150 yuan, plus either a bicycle or a watch.
This completely caught the Zhao family off guard. The cost of the dowry and wedding expenses combined was already enough to buy a formal job.