She rubbed her hands together, eyes sparkling with intensity, fixed on Qiao Qingyan.
Qiao Qingyan didn’t even blink. She opened her mouth and stated the price: “One thousand yuan. Have the person and the money here before tomorrow morning, and we’ll go through the procedures at the factory.”
“One thousand?!”
Li Shu nearly jumped out of her skin, her voice shooting up an octave. She hadn’t expected that price at all.
“That’s way too expensive, isn’t it? Do you know how much rice you can buy with one yuan these days?”
“That’s right, one thousand.”
Qiao Qingyan’s tone was steady as a rock.
“The sooner, the better. There’s already someone at home eyeing this position—they need to make room for the new one coming in. If you hesitate, you’ll miss your chance.”
She finally looked up at her.
“You can go find someone else, I won’t stop you. But this is the price I set—not a cent less.”
“Understood, understood!”
Li Shu grabbed her arm, grinning from ear to ear.
“Don’t you worry. Tomorrow at seven in the morning, I’ll be waiting for you at the factory gate. I won’t be a minute late!”
The next day, just as the first hint of light was breaking on the horizon, she was already standing at the main gate of the silk spinning factory.
There weren’t many people moving about yet—only the faint smell of cooking oil drifting over from a distant breakfast stall. She tucked her hands into her pockets and stared straight at the factory entrance.
Li Shu and a girl named He Dan had already arrived. They stood in the shade beside the guardhouse, talking in low voices.
“Yanyan, sis!”
Li Shu hurried over to greet her. As she drew close, she reached out to take Qiao Qingyan’s arm, but the other woman gently sidestepped the gesture.
Qiao Qingyan gave a slight nod, didn’t waste a word, and led them straight toward the factory director’s office.
As for workers privately swapping positions, as long as the proper procedures were completed and the replacement had no issues, the factory generally turned a blind eye and didn’t interfere.
The clerk in the personnel office merely glanced up at He Dan once, then lowered his head and stamped the seal.
When the paperwork reached the factory director’s desk, there was no excessive questioning either.
The director picked up his pen and signed the handover form. After writing, he paused for a moment, then added a line of small notation beside it.
Then—smack—the bright red official seal came down, crisp and clean.
“Alright, Comrade He Dan. From today on, you’re a regular worker. Work hard, and don’t bring any shame to the factory!”
The director handed the documents back to the personnel officer and lifted his teacup, blowing on it gently.
“Thank you, Director! I’ll work diligently, no slacking!”
He Dan’s face was flushed red, trembling with excitement. She bowed repeatedly to the director and Qiao Qingyan in gratitude.
Once the paperwork was done, Li Shu grabbed He Dan and insisted on walking Qiao Qingyan to the main gate.
As the three of them crossed the main road through the factory grounds, a few early-shift workers paused to watch.
Li Shu kept chattering the whole way, trying to ease the tension.
Seeing that no one was around, Li Shu quickly pulled a small bundle wrapped in a handkerchief from her sleeve and pressed it into Qiao Qingyan’s palm.
“Yanyan, there’s a thousand yuan in there—not a cent short. I really don’t know how to thank you. Lunch is on me today—we’ll go to the state-run canteen and have a proper meal!”
Qiao Qingyan weighed it in her hand, didn’t even bother to open it, and tucked it straight into her pocket.
“No need for a meal. I’m in a hurry.”
With that, she walked off without looking back.
Her figure quickly disappeared around the street corner. The wind caught the hem of her clothes, her back straight and resolute.
Not far away, by the wall, a man in plain clothes silently watched the whole scene.
Qin Shuyan leaned against the brick wall, brows slightly furrowed.
He had just learned that Qiao Qingyan worked at the silk spinning factory. Before he’d even gotten close, he’d witnessed this little performance.
So this was the daughter with no backing, the one trampled underfoot by her family, as his stepmother had described?
With that demeanor, she looked nothing like a pushover.
She was clearly a shrewd one—smooth and polished in every direction.
Qin Shuyan stared for a few seconds, expression unchanged. He made no sound, then turned and walked away.
…
At the Qiao family’s doorstep.
Bai Wanwan came running in from the end of the village path.
She steadied herself against the doorframe, panting hard: “Uncle! Rongkang! Rongze! Something’s happened!”
The three men inside were discussing farm work.
Hearing the shouts, they all rose to their feet and hurried to the door.
Qiao Rongkang was the first to step across the threshold, brows knitted tightly.
He reached out to steady her arm, lowering his voice a notch.
“Sister Wanwan, what’s the rush? Take your time.”
Bai Wanwan swallowed hard, wiped the sweat from her forehead with her hand, her lips still trembling slightly.
“I… I went to the village entrance to fetch water. I was squatting by the well when I heard Auntie Wang talking with a few women…
She said Li Shu’s cousin got into the silk spinning factory as a worker today!”
She paused, her eyes quickly reddening, her voice starting to shake.
“They also said… she paid a thousand yuan to buy the position… she found connections, slipped money through to get in!”
Qiao Dehai was stunned. He stood by the threshold without moving, face full of confusion. “The silk spinning factory was hiring? How come there wasn’t a peep about it? There wasn’t even a notice posted on the town bulletin board.”
Qiao Rongze suddenly shot up from the corner of the wall, charging over to Bai Wanwan in a few steps, staring wide-eyed as he pressed: “Who did you say got in? Li Shu’s cousin? Where did she get the slot? Something’s not right here!”
Before he even finished speaking, his expression suddenly changed, as if a thought had just struck him. He whipped his head around to look at Qiao Rongkang. “Brother, could it be… Qiao Qingyan? She must have sold her job!”
Qiao Rongkang froze completely, his breath catching in his throat.
A moment later, he raised his head, his face livid, and spat out the words through gritted teeth: “That wretched girl! She clearly promised to give up the position for Sister Wanwan! She dared to play us!”
Last night, the few of them had sat around the main room, discussing exactly how to handle it.
They planned to have Qiao Qingyan complete her onboarding procedures on the first day, then have her cite health issues and resign the next day, allowing Bai Wanwan to take over the vacant position.
Everyone had thought the plan was foolproof, but she’d turned around and sold the opportunity like a commodity.
“A thousand yuan… she took a thousand yuan!”
Qiao Rongze roared, his voice nearly cracking, veins bulging on his forehead.
“She wasn’t helping—she was profiteering! She’s taking the money and running! That venomous woman!”
Bai Wanwan stepped back half a pace, shrinking behind Qiao Rongkang, her head lowered, not daring to look at anyone.
Her voice was soft, tinged with tears. “Don’t be angry… maybe Qingyan did it to help Rongze pay off his debts. She might not have had a choice… It’s all my fault…”
The moment those words left her mouth, Qiao Rongkang whipped his head around and glared at her.
“How could she be that kind-hearted? Don’t joke around! She clearly can’t stand to see our family do well! This opportunity was her way out, and fine, she could have taken it herself—but she went and sold it to someone else! She never once considered us family!”
“Come on, let’s go settle this with her right now! If she doesn’t hand over that thousand yuan today, I’ll make sure she regrets it!”
After roaring in fury, Qiao Rongkang grabbed Qiao Rongze by the arm and dragged him along.
…
Qiao Qingyan carefully tucked the money into her pocket, glanced down at the path beneath her feet, and planned to head back to the dormitory to pack her things before setting off.
As she passed the cornfield, her ears suddenly perked up—footsteps sounded from behind.
She furrowed her brow slightly but didn’t let it show on her face, continuing forward as before.
The corn stalks towered above head height, blocking the view.
At the fork in the road, she abruptly turned onto the dirt path leading to the back mountain.
This narrow trail was lined with wild grass on both sides and rarely used.
The moment she turned, the sound behind her immediately followed, its pace noticeably quickening.
Her heart tightened, and her fingers swiftly slipped into her pocket, gripping the bundle of banknotes.
She quickened her steps, then suddenly darted aside, hiding behind an old tree.
A tall man soon approached.
“Don’t bother hiding. I mean you no harm.”