For general labor positions, after all, this wasn’t office work. The exam wasn’t difficult—it mainly tested basic literacy and arithmetic at an elementary school level, like first or second grade. The hardest part was the final subjective question:
“If you have a conflict with a coworker, what would you do?”
Baolan had grown up in the countryside and had seen countless arguments and fights. Small disputes could be over something trivial—like a stalk of scallions or a couple of cloves of garlic. Bigger ones involved arguments over field boundaries or land foundations.
Usually, small quarrels ended after a bit of shouting. But for major disputes, respected elders and village cadres would be invited to mediate.
Baolan had never worked in a factory and didn’t know its rules, but with so many people gathered together, the leaders surely wouldn’t want constant arguing and chaos.
Carefully, she wrote:
“First, I am a reasonable person and will not easily get into conflicts with others. Second, if I encounter someone unreasonable, I will immediately seek help from my supervisor…”
That answer should be fine, right? It was practically just short of writing “I am an obedient citizen” across the paper.
After finishing her exam, Baolan quietly waited for it to end.
Not long after, Comrade Lin checked his watch and clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention.
“Time’s up. Put your pens down.”
Baolan stared at his wristwatch with envy for quite a while.
Having a watch made telling time so convenient—she decided she would buy one herself someday.
After collecting the papers, Comrade Lin told everyone to return to the bicycle shed area and not wander around. The results would be out within an hour at most.
No one minded waiting.
Dingqing looped her arm through Baolan’s and chattered excitedly,
“Baolan, how did you answer the last question? And the clock-reading one—was the answer seven-thirty? Also, the character for ‘jiang’ in soy sauce—is it written like this?” She traced it on Baolan’s hand.
“Yes!”
“I’m so nervous. What if I got it wrong?”
The exam was already over, so Baolan comforted her,
“You definitely got them right.”
She glanced around and whispered,
“Look, there are a lot of uncles and aunties in their thirties and forties taking the test. Our memory should be better than theirs…”
No one knew how many people were grading the papers, but the results came out before an hour had passed. Soon, Comrade Lin and Comrade Zhao walked out, each holding a stack of documents—and two large sheets of bright red paper.
The red paper—those must be good news announcements, right?
The previously buzzing crowd suddenly fell silent.
Like sunflowers turning toward the sun, everyone’s heads followed the two comrades until they stopped in front of the bicycle shed.
Comrade Lin spoke:
“Everyone, listen up. The results are out. When your name is called, it means you’ve been accepted—congratulations! If your name isn’t called, don’t be discouraged; there will be other opportunities in the future!”
Comrade Zhao added:
“What Comrade Lin said is right. Let me explain—those who passed should come tomorrow, July 2nd, at 8 a.m. I repeat—8 a.m.—to complete onboarding procedures at the factory. This can only be done tomorrow. No other day is allowed! If you don’t come tomorrow, it will be considered a forfeiture! Understood?!”
“My home is far away—can I come in the afternoon?”
That person had voiced exactly what Baolan wanted to ask.
“Yes! Morning or afternoon is fine—from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m.! After completing onboarding, you will officially start work next Monday, July 4th at 8 a.m. There will be one week of training, then you’ll be assigned to teams and production lines!”
“Leader, can we move into the dormitories tomorrow?”
Comrade Lin replied:
“Yes. Tomorrow is entirely for handling these arrangements. Alright, we’ll start reading the list now. When your name is called, go to Comrade Zhao to collect your employment form. Those who need to transfer their household registration can come to me afterward for an introduction letter.”
After they finished speaking, the crowd erupted briefly before falling silent again. Everyone stared at Comrade Lin, ears perked, straining to hear their names.
“Li Xiaozhen!”
“He Honghua!”
…
Baolan held her breath, listening intently.
Please let us be on it. Please let us be on it. Please let us be on it!
“Xing Baolan!”
“Baolan, you passed!”
Dingqing let out a sharp scream, then quickly covered her mouth under the reproachful looks of others. Her bright eyes darted around, silently conveying her excitement.
Baolan’s heart pounded. Never before had her own name sounded so pleasant to her ears.
She squeezed Dingqing’s hand.
“I’ll wait for you over there—you’ll definitely be on the list too.”
“Mm!”
Baolan had just collected her form when she heard the name “Yu Dingqing.” Her face flushed with excitement—Dingqing had passed too!
This was wonderful—what incredible luck.
They were about to become workers!
The two fifteen-year-old girls couldn’t help but throw their arms around each other in excitement.
When all the names had been read, those who passed were overjoyed, while those who didn’t either left dejectedly, grumbled angrily, or pestered Comrade Zhao to check the list. A full spectrum of reactions unfolded.
Grinning widely, Baolan and Dingqing went to find Comrade Lin for their introduction letters.
Baolan was certain she would transfer her household registration to the factory—wasn’t finding work her way of escaping the Xing family?
Dingqing, however, hesitated.
“I need to discuss it with my parents.”
From her cousin Li and what she had seen over the past couple of days, Baolan had already keenly sensed the difference between rural and urban household registration. With cooperatives forming in the countryside and jobs scarce in the city, she felt that moving from rural to urban registration would only become harder in the future.
So she said,
“Then you should still get the introduction letter first. If your parents agree, you can bring the documents tomorrow and transfer right away.”
Dingqing grinned.
“You’re right.”
The introduction letters were standardized forms printed with the cannery’s name at the top. Comrade Lin only needed to fill in their village committee and names, then take them to the office for an official stamp.
After waiting a while, they successfully received their letters. Carefully storing the thin sheets of paper, they left the cannery together.
Once outside the gate, Baolan turned back to look at the increasingly lively factory, her heart filled with hope for the future.
After calming herself, she said,
“There’s a boat this afternoon to Qingjiang County. Let’s hurry and buy tickets, go back, pack tonight, and come report tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
They waited at Baoshi Bridge Wharf, got off at Jigongzui Wharf, then rushed to the main dock and successfully bought tickets for the 1:30 p.m. boat back to Qingjiang County.
Since it was downstream, the return tickets were cheaper—both tickets together cost 1 yuan and 19 cents.
After arriving in Qingjiang County, they didn’t linger. They hurried all the way back by boat and would reach Hongsha Village around four in the afternoon.
Baolan handed her introduction letter, employment form, and remaining money to Dingqing for safekeeping at her house.
As soon as they entered the village, the women sitting under the big osmanthus tree at the entrance, busy sewing shoe soles, laughed:
“Oh, the girls who went to the city are back.”
“Dingqing, why are you still following Baolan around visiting relatives? Aren’t you embarrassed?”
“Mind your own business.”
“Well, you cheeky girl—when you visit your future in-laws, take Baolan along too!”
“I’m not visiting any in-laws!”
“Hahaha!”
“Baolan, has your cousin Li given birth yet? What did she have?”
“Not yet.”
“What’s in your baskets? Didn’t you buy any cakes in the city to bring back for us?”
After being teased and commented on like monkeys in a show, the two finally managed to escape.
They parted ways in the village. Watching Dingqing return home, Baolan took a deep breath, then slowly let it out.
She was about to face a tough battle.
Passing the exam was certainly cause for joy—but transferring her household registration meant her land in the village would be reclaimed.
After land reform, each person here had been allocated one mu of land and three fen of paddy field. Naturally, Baolan had her share.
With Dingqing’s connection, and after speaking with Uncle Yu, the current season’s crops on her land would probably still go to the Xing family. And after this season, with the village forming a cooperative, the land being reclaimed wouldn’t make much difference to them anyway.
Thinking this through, Baolan felt reassured. Carrying her basket, she headed home.