Inside the Yacheng Supply and Marketing Cooperative, Director Zhao put down his teacup the moment he heard someone had come to apply for the job.
It wasn’t that no one had come looking for work these past few days.
The problem was that almost all of them were locals. Not only were they illiterate, but they couldn’t speak Mandarin either.
Why insist on applicants who spoke standard Mandarin?
That had everything to do with the naval base stationed nearby for many years.
As more and more military officers’ families came to live with them on the island, and because supply ships didn’t always arrive on schedule, many military spouses ended up shopping at the town’s supply cooperative.
Most of these accompanying family members belonged to officers, whose salaries weren’t low. They also tended to spend generously.
In fact, nearly half of the cooperative’s merchandise was sold to military families.
That should have been a good thing.
The issue lay with the sales clerks.
Most had little education and spoke with very heavy local accents. Some could barely understand Mandarin at all.
Not understanding Mandarin wasn’t necessarily a problem by itself.
However, many military spouses also spoke imperfect Mandarin and preferred using their hometown dialects. With dialects from every corner of the country mixed together, conversations often sounded like chickens talking to ducks.
Misunderstandings happened all the time.
The local clerks complained that military families bullied them.
The military families complained that the clerks couldn’t even speak properly.
Over time, relations between the two sides became increasingly strained.
Several years earlier, the military had approached local government departments, hoping to create jobs for military dependents.
But Yacheng was just a small island.
Its economy and industry were severely underdeveloped.
There weren’t even enough jobs for the locals.
How could they possibly make room for military spouses?
On top of that, there had been occasional conflicts between soldiers and local residents over the years, so relations between the military and civilians weren’t exactly harmonious.
But that was getting off topic.
Back to why the cooperative was hiring—and why the notice specifically required standard Mandarin.
That story began with Director Zhao’s wife’s cousin.
She had started dating a company commander stationed at the naval base.
Dating itself wasn’t an issue.
The problem was that the company commander’s mother and younger sister had already moved to the island with him.
His mother looked down on Director Zhao’s wife’s cousin, but the young woman insisted on marrying him.
After several interactions, the commander’s mother somehow learned that Zhao was the cooperative’s director.
She made her conditions clear:
If they wanted her son to marry the girl, they first had to arrange a sales clerk position at the cooperative for the commander’s younger sister.
Originally, Director Zhao had wanted nothing to do with it.
He’s only a company commander.
Who does he think he is? The Emperor?
But his wife had watched her cousin grow up. She cried and argued at home until he finally gave in.
So he came up with a legitimate excuse.
He submitted a report describing the communication problems between the cooperative and military families, proposing that a new clerk be hired specifically to serve military dependents.
This way, the higher-ups could also tell the military,
“See? We managed to squeeze out a position. It’s not that we refuse to help military families.”
As for the public recruitment notice…
That was merely a formality.
Hiring required a public announcement.
They couldn’t simply recruit someone in secret.
Director Zhao had already asked his wife to send word for the company commander’s sister to come that morning.
As long as she showed up, they could go through the motions before hiring her.
Then they’d immediately remove the notice.
It would only have been posted for half a day.
If anyone questioned it later, they’d simply say the applicant had arrived first.
Everything would look perfectly legitimate.
Sitting behind his desk, Director Zhao looked up as the office door opened.
The instant he saw the visitor, he felt as though the entire room had brightened.
The young woman wore a long-sleeved red polka-dot blouse with layered ruffles framing the collar, exposing a slender, snowy-white neck.
Her high-waisted trousers made her already tall figure appear even taller, while the loose pant legs were tucked neatly into a pair of black rubber shoes, giving her an unexpectedly stylish look.
Then there was her face.
Her peach blossom eyes shimmered with moisture.
Her delicate nose stood proudly between them.
At the corner of her left eye rested a tiny reddish-brown beauty mark.
Below that were full, rosy lips.
Beautiful.
Unbelievably beautiful.
Director Zhao inwardly gasped.
No one mentioned that the company commander’s sister was this gorgeous!
More importantly…
She carried herself with the elegance of a blooming peony—luxurious, graceful, and captivating.
Before he could speak, Shen Niao smiled politely.
The room seemed to brighten even more.
“Hello, Director Zhao. My name is Shen Niao.”
“I saw the recruitment notice outside today and wanted to ask whether the cooperative is still hiring.”
“I’m from Beijing. My Mandarin is standard, and I graduated from high school.”
She introduced herself succinctly.
Director Zhao blinked in surprise.
These qualifications are excellent.
Far better than I expected.
What pleased him most, though, was how naturally she acted—as if she knew nothing about the arrangements already made behind the scenes.
He nodded thoughtfully.
“Your qualifications are a good fit.”
“Since you’re from Beijing… are you here to join your husband at the military base?”
If he remembered correctly, that company commander was from Beijing too.
Shen Niao nodded.
“Yes. I’m here as a military spouse.”
The cooperative wasn’t far from the base, and soldiers came from all over the country.
It wasn’t strange that Director Zhao guessed correctly.
“Very well.”
“Did you bring your identification?”
“I’ll issue your employment notice and submit it as soon as possible.”
“You can start work next Monday.”
“Any problems with that?”
“None.”
After leaving the back office, Shen Niao couldn’t help feeling puzzled.
That was… incredibly easy.
She’d only come in to ask.
Yet she’d somehow landed the job just like that.
Still…
Having a job was certainly a good thing.
Whether it actually worked out could wait until Monday.
Feeling much lighter, Shen Niao walked outside.
At a glance, she spotted Wu Qingchuan standing beside the entrance to the supply cooperative.
His navy uniform was still perfectly pressed.
He stood as straight as a poplar tree, handsome and dignified.
His cold, aloof demeanor made him seem difficult to approach.
Yet…
His left hand held a mesh bag containing the two enamel washbasins decorated with blooming peonies.
His right hand carried a bright red thermos along with another mesh bag stuffed full of colorful odds and ends.
The festive household items somehow softened all the icy severity surrounding him.
Having just secured a job, Shen Niao was already in a good mood.
Seeing him like this, she couldn’t help laughing.
The moment she smiled, Wu Qingchuan’s gaze shifted toward her.
Skipping happily over, her loose hair swayed behind her.
Tilting her head, she looked up at him with a playful smile.
The corners of her rosy lips curved upward as she asked softly,
“Commander Wu…”
“Were you waiting here just for me?”
Her voice brushed against his ears like a soft feather.
Wu Qingchuan looked away awkwardly.
He didn’t answer.
Shen Niao simply took his silence as a yes.
Considering he’d bought her a watch today and even waited for her afterward, she lightly hooked a finger around his sleeve.
“It’s almost noon.”
“I’ll do Commander Wu the honor of letting you treat me to lunch.”
“There should be a state-owned restaurant in town, right?”
“I’d like to try some local specialties.”
She lifted her delicate chin with a hint of coquettish pride.
Her fair cheeks, as smooth as fine porcelain, carried a soft pink blush.
Her eyes looked as though they were filled with gentle water.
Wu Qingchuan’s heart stirred.
Without the slightest resistance, he allowed Shen Niao to lead him toward the town’s only state-owned restaurant.
Not long after the two left, a dark-skinned man in a navy uniform arrived at the entrance of the supply cooperative with a round-faced girl wearing two braided pigtails.
“Xiaoling, go in by yourself.”
“Everything’s already been arranged.”
“Just say a few words.”
Liu Xiaoling looked up.
“I know. I even practiced all morning.”
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been this late.
Liu Xiaojun frowned.
“Say ‘I,’ not ‘this girl’ or ‘I’s dialect.'”
Their family originally came from the Central Plains.
Generations ago, their ancestors had fled famine and settled in the outskirts of Beijing.
Although they lived near Beijing, almost everyone in their village descended from the same group of refugees, so they had all retained the same regional way of speaking.
Liu Xiaoling had never corrected her accent.
“Fine, fine. ‘I, I, I.’ Got it.”
“Everything’s already arranged anyway.”
“Even if I slip and talk the old way, what’s the big deal?”
“Unless Chen Yumei doesn’t want to marry into our family anymore.”
She thought her brother was making a fuss over nothing.
What’s wrong with saying ‘I’ the way we always do?
Rolling her eyes, she walked into the supply cooperative.
Spotting the saleswoman at the front counter, she raised her chin arrogantly.
“Go ask your director…”
“When can I start working?”