Early in the morning, Shūxīn said goodbye to her boyfriend and her family and headed to the city. Today was the first day of her new job.
Life is unpredictable—she never expected that half a month after last coming to the city, she would now have a boyfriend in the countryside and be experiencing love.
Thinking of her delicate little husband, Shūxīn felt warm inside. He was frail, soft, easily leaned on, spoke in a gentle voice, and was clingy. When she had been single, she hadn’t noticed, but now, having a doting husband escort her, her legs felt energized.
The Liú family might have thought: so before, you went out with no energy? And yet you ran so fast!
At the station, Huáng Yáo had already arrived. Once they met up, they entered the station together.
The inside of the station was bright and shiny—everything was new, even the cement floors polished to a reflective sheen.
Shūxīn and Huáng Yáo found their respective departments and followed the supervisor. The station was new, everything starting from scratch. Their team needed to get familiar with the work, as the station would open in two days. Time was tight, the tasks heavy—they had to complete final inspections quickly.
The station also had staff dormitories. With fewer people now, the benefits were good—everyone could get a small single room. They received their uniforms and dorm keys.
After lunch, preparations began for the first train arrival. Shūxīn didn’t have much to do today; she just needed to settle her dorm. Tomorrow would be training, and the day after, she could ride along on the train.
Huáng Yáo’s situation was different—she was stationed at the station long-term and busy. Shūxīn borrowed her dorm key to clean their rooms together. Judging by the room numbers, the two were adjacent—it was likely arranged by Uncle Huáng. What luck!
When Shūxīn opened the dorm, there was nothing inside—she had to prepare everything herself.
She first checked the scrap materials station, picking two usable beds and a few cabinets, then bought old newspapers to cover the windows and walls. She borrowed a cart from staff to move everything to the dorm.
After returning the cart, she went to the supply cooperative for a major purchase: two basins, two water flasks, and a bunch of miscellaneous items.
By the time Shūxīn finished tidying both rooms, it was evening. When Huáng Yáo got off work, she saw the rooms perfectly organized. The beds were neatly made, cabinets placed beside the beds, a desk set up, and windows covered with newspaper. Huáng Yáo happily flung herself at Shūxīn.
“Thank you so much, Shūxīn! How much did it cost you? Come on, let me treat you to a meal at the state-run restaurant!”
“Sure, after all this effort, I deserve it. Let’s go—I want braised pork.”
By the second day on the train, Shūxīn was already familiar with her work. Overall, it was straightforward: maintaining the hygiene of her assigned carriage, checking for ticketless passengers, and other routine tasks.
With her intelligence, eagerness to learn, and service-first attitude, she secured the sleeper carriage. On this train, there were no three-shift rotations yet; each person worked six hours a day.
Since there were few staff in the sleeper car, only two attendants managed it. During the day, they worked together; at night, they took turns for the night shift.
Due to long hours and night work, the salary was generous: twenty-eight yuan during probation, forty-two as a regular worker, plus ticket and night shift allowances.
As the first group of staff at Xīnyáng Station, they skipped probation and became full-time workers immediately.
Shūxīn’s colleague, a woman around thirty named Zhōu Làméi, had a husband and father-in-law in the grain bureau. She was cheerful and outgoing, often taking care of the young Shūxīn.
It was Shūxīn’s second night on the train—her night shift. Zhōu Làméi had worked the previous night to give her time to adjust. With her experience in the mountains and her cultivation of the soul method Hún Jué, even short rests were as refreshing as sleep.
Fewer passengers meant her work was more demanding: checking each berth, verifying new passengers, and then returning to the rest room.
The train departed Xīnyáng Station, passing over thirty stations. They were only a third of the way; three and a half days remained before reaching the terminal. After a day’s rest there, they would return to Xīnyáng. The entire journey would take twelve days.
Fortunately, Xīnyáng had only this train—a result of the county leaders’ negotiations. Other trains were just passing through; the station wasn’t responsible for them.
In other words, Shūxīn would always be responsible for this train along this route. She understood—Xīnyáng Station was small compared to provincial and city stations. Having a train was already good. Many small stations didn’t even have trains.
Trains carried all kinds of people—good and bad. That very night, Shūxīn encountered someone problematic.
After stopping at a small station, people got on and off. Shūxīn checked the carriage to verify passenger information. At the rear, an older woman, noticing Shūxīn checking tickets, turned to leave without thinking. Anyone with sharp eyes could tell something was off—Shūxīn certainly wouldn’t let it slide.
The woman tried to flee when she saw Shūxīn approaching. Realizing escape was impossible, she started throwing a tantrum, thinking the young girl might be easily intimidated.
“Quiet! What are you yelling for? Where’s your ticket? Show it to me!” Shūxīn said sharply, not one to be trifled with.
Passengers nearby, awakened by the commotion, were surprised. They had assumed the young girl might be easy to fool, but seeing her face the older woman so fiercely, they realized she was a capable government-hired train attendant.
The old woman’s crying paused—she had no ticket. She had hoped to sneak a free ride, relying on the crowd for cover. She had managed at the station before, but not now.
Shūxīn immediately recognized that she hadn’t bought a ticket. Fare evasion was common, and pickpocketing even more so. Ignoring it before was one thing, but now, she wouldn’t let it pass.
“No ticket, huh? Planning to ride for free? Do you think this train is your own chair? Sit wherever you like? Enough nonsense. Either follow me to buy a ticket, get off at the next stop, or spend a few days in the police station. Your choice.”
After hesitating, the woman reluctantly followed Shūxīn to buy a ticket. The onlookers dispersed once the drama ended.
Smart people always choose the option that benefits them. The old woman wasn’t foolish—this young girl was small but feisty, and on government wages. She couldn’t provoke her, so she obediently bought a ticket.
Even though she was upset, she knew the ticket was worth the expense. A train ticket could feed her family for two or three months, so she reluctantly purchased the cheapest standing ticket.