The two of them went up to the second floor carrying a jumble of thoughts—this, that, and everything in between—along with their kettle.
Dingqing whispered, “Baolan, you’re amazing. Just a few words and that auntie gave us a kettle of hot water.”
Baolan rubbed her nose, a little embarrassed. “I didn’t expect it either. But I’ve realized something—there are plenty of kind people in this world. If we’re a bit sweet with our words, we’ll always run into someone willing to help.”
Dingqing agreed deeply, thinking she should learn from Baolan. She might chatter a lot in front of Baolan, but outside, she wasn’t nearly as bold or outspoken.
The second floor opened into a long corridor stretching all the way to the end, where there was a hot water room and a shared bath. Rooms lined both sides. Baolan found Room 202 and pushed the door open.
On the left was a small bathroom; on the right, a rack with a washbasin. Inside were two narrow beds and a long table across from them. The beds were neatly made with light blue checkered sheets and matching covers.
Baolan leaned in to sniff—there was a faint soap fragrance. Everything looked clean.
Dingqing dropped the basket she had been carrying onto the table with relief. “Oh my god, my arms are killing me.”
She flopped onto the bed, her lips squished by the pillow. “Baolan, only now does it feel real—that we actually made it to the city. It still feels unreal. Do you get what I mean?”
Baolan nodded. She also couldn’t quite believe she had dared to come to the city without a word—and even brought Dingqing along.
Dingqing said, “Baolan, you’re incredible. You just decided and did it. If not for you, I’d never have thought of coming to the city to find work.”
Baolan smiled faintly. “I was forced into it.”
In this new environment, she felt a bit excited and finally told Dingqing the truth: “You don’t know—my parents wanted to trade me into a marriage.”
Dingqing nearly jumped up. “A marriage exchange?! How can they do that?! Ugh, that’s awful! My dad knows the women’s director in the township—we should report them! That’s arranged marriage, a backward custom!”
No wonder they got along so well—Dingqing thought exactly like her.
Baolan said, “That’s exactly what I told them. At worst, we all go down together.”
Dingqing climbed up and patted Baolan sympathetically, then rummaged through her basket. “Come on, have a piece of peach pastry to sweeten things. Let’s aim to pass the worker recruitment exam the day after tomorrow and never go back—no more dealing with them.”
Baolan laughed. “If only it were that easy.”
It was already past mealtime. Luckily, they had brought plenty of dry food—especially the dozen or so eggs.
“Let’s eat freely, or they’ll go bad.”
Baolan took the kettle to the hot water room, poured some into their bamboo tube to cool, and the two of them each ate a piece of peach pastry and two eggs.
After eating, they both collapsed onto the beds, not wanting to move.
Dingqing asked, “Are we still going to the textile factory?”
Baolan replied, “Yes. We’ll go after resting a bit.”
Dingqing groaned. How did her best friend have so much endless energy?
“Don’t worry, we won’t walk. I saw a bus stop near the big ladder—there must be a bus to Anping District.”
In such a big city, there had to be at least one bus line connecting different areas.
“As long as we don’t have to walk. I really can’t anymore.”
After resting for a while, they locked their belongings in the room and went downstairs. Behind the front desk was a wall clock—it was already 2:30 p.m.
Dinner would be at six.
For the statistician position at the textile factory, Baolan decided to go as soon as possible—just in case they were hiring.
Pressed for time, they didn’t stroll like in the morning. They jogged all the way to the bus stop and, with the help of a kind old man, boarded Bus No. 4, which stopped at the textile factory.
Even though Baolan had mentally prepared herself for the possibility that Dingqing had been scammed, she still felt disappointed when they confirmed at the factory’s security office that they weren’t hiring statisticians—or any workers at all.
As they walked out, Dingqing cursed, “That damn liar! There isn’t even a position, and he dared ask me for fifty yuan! I hope he has a son with no backside and gets chased by dogs every day!”
“Alright, alright. Since we’re already in the area, let’s check the daily chemical factory too.”
They went around asking, but no one was hiring.
The pharmaceutical factory wasn’t hiring either, but when they heard that Dingqing knew herbal medicine and had family knowledge, the gatekeeper wrote down her name and address.
Dingqing whispered to Baolan, “Our hometown is so far away—like they’d really come all the way to find me.”
Baolan smiled. “There’s telegrams, and they can write letters too. Since they took your name, they’re probably interested. Maybe next time they hire, they’ll think of you.”
Dingqing shrugged. “Whatever. I’d rather stick with you. If you go to the canning factory, I’ll go too.”
Baolan nodded. “Alright.”
They had come full of excitement but left disappointed. Thinking about dinner waiting at the hostel lifted their spirits, and they started guessing what dishes might be served.
They made it back just before six.
Dinner was just being served.
Since there weren’t many guests, only seven or eight people—including them—were eating in the hall.
The food was served in large enamel basins. An auntie placed the dishes on a long table. Baolan leaned in to look: one dish, one soup, and a small basin of pickled vegetables.
The dish was minced meat eggplant, the soup was cucumber egg soup, and the pickles were chopped dried radish.
The staple was a mixed rice with green beans and potatoes.
Dingqing’s eyes lit up. “There’s meat!” Minced meat was still meat!
Baolan swallowed. “Let’s line up quickly.”
The food was served in coarse ceramic bowls, one portion per person.
The server said they could have more rice if it wasn’t enough, but the dishes were limited.
Baolan and Dingqing found a corner seat. They both picked up a bite of minced meat eggplant first and shoveled a mouthful of rice.
Delicious!
This was their first proper meal of the day.
Chewing the soft eggplant, Baolan sighed, “The hostel is expensive, but the food is pretty good.”
Dingqing just kept eating nonstop.
They even went back for a second helping of rice and ate until their stomachs were round.
Afterward, they took a walk outside to digest. When they saw a shop selling soda, they couldn’t resist and bought one bottle to share.
They weren’t thirsty—they had just had soup. They were just excited and craving it.
Taking turns sipping, they finished the bottle, returned it for the deposit, and went back to their room satisfied.
“Baolan, what shampoo do they use at that barbershop? It smells so good.”
“No idea, but it smelled like osmanthus.”
“I saw an auntie getting her hair permed. City people really know how to dress up.”
…
They chatted idly, took their baths, and, tired from the day, slowly fell asleep.
Just as they were about to drift off, Dingqing suddenly sprang up. “We haven’t eaten the watermelon!”
Baolan: “…We’ll eat it tomorrow.”
Muttering about eating watermelon the next day, Dingqing fell fast asleep.
The next day, they went to the instrument factory area. When they said they weren’t employees’ children, several factories waved them off—no hiring outsiders!
The canning factory really was their only way out.
Baolan didn’t bother checking other factories anymore. She took Dingqing to a primary school and lingered in the bookstore outside, flipping through elementary textbooks.
They didn’t know what the canning factory exam would test, but reviewing characters and basic arithmetic couldn’t hurt—what if that’s exactly what would be on it?