Today, the canteen served noodles, buns, steamed buns, eggs, and soybean milk for breakfast.
A bowl of plain noodles cost 8 cents, shredded pork noodles cost 10 cents—cheaper than what they had eaten at the docks before.
Palm-sized buns were 2 cents each, steamed buns 1 cent each, and eggs 3 cents each.
Baolan had spent money yesterday, so her savings had dropped from six yuan to 4.7 yuan. She kept breakfast simple—just two steamed buns, not even soybean milk, eating them with free hot water.
Dingqing and Tian Lianghui also only got steamed buns.
Wang Xiaoping, holding a bowl of shredded pork noodles, clicked her tongue. “What are you guys doing? All eating buns makes me look like I’m wasting money.”
Tian Lianghui took a big bite of her bun and said vaguely, “Just hurry up and eat. Otherwise I’ll help you finish it.” She was practically drooling over the noodles.
“No need!” Wang Xiaoping shielded her bowl with one hand and slurped noisily.
After a while, she said with satisfaction, “Forget it, I’m going to spend money. If I spend more on food, I’ll just hand less over to my dad.”
She was going to eat in revenge.
After eating, they washed their bowls, returned their things to the dorm, and met up with Wu Niandi on the way to the canteen to wait for the 8 a.m. training.
As for Xiangyang—she had isolated herself from the five of them and hadn’t been seen since morning.
On the way, Dingqing mentioned to Wang Xiaoping that workers had been transferred from Ju County. “Sister Xiaoping, did you hear about this?”
Wang Xiaoping widened her eyes. “No! Weren’t they supposed to train new workers?”
Dingqing patted her arm. “Even though you’re not exactly reliable… compared to outsiders from Ju County, we’ve decided to support you as team leader.”
Wang Xiaoping looked smug for a second, then got annoyed. “Hey! What do you mean I’m not reliable?”
Baolan sighed. “Who said they’d bring a clothesline yesterday? Did you bring it?” Wang Xiaoping had come back empty-handed. Their laundry had been hanging all over the dorm these past two days—luckily it dried quickly in the heat.
Wang Xiaoping froze. “I—I forgot. Next week! I’ll bring it next week.”
Tian Lianghui shook her head. “Forget it, let’s just go buy one.” She was starting to feel Wang Xiaoping wasn’t very dependable.
Wu Niandi hesitated beside them. She wanted to say she could twist a rope out of grass back home, but when she thought of her father and grandmother’s harsh faces, she swallowed the words.
By 7:30 a.m., the canteen was packed with people sitting and standing.
All were new production-line workers.
Baolan and the others spotted Lan Xianying from Room 301 and quickly squeezed over.
Lan Xianying leaned close and whispered, “That Xiangyang in your room is badmouthing you.”
Baolan blinked. “Huh?”
“I know someone in Room 304. Xiangyang went there complaining about you two,” she gestured at Baolan and Dingqing, “saying you teamed up to bully her. What did you do to offend her?”
Baolan rolled her eyes. “Who offended her? She wanted to take the bed by the window that Dingqing and I are using and suggested drawing lots to reassign beds. I refused.”
Lan Xianying snorted. “Doesn’t she understand first come, first served? If she’s got the guts, she should ask the personnel office to assign her a proper bed. Why is she making such a fuss?”
Dingqing nodded vigorously. “She keeps giving us attitude in the dorm, and still has the nerve to badmouth us outside. What a piece of work—I think she’s the worst!”
As they chatted and complained about strange personalities they had encountered, their bond grew closer.
When the wall clock struck eight, the crowd fell silent and turned expectantly toward the entrance.
Soon, Comrade Lin and Comrade Zhao from the Production Section entered with a slightly chubby man.
It was the man called “Dajun” they had seen at the gate yesterday.
Baolan and the others exchanged looks. Tian Lianghui wrinkled her nose and whispered, “Is he really going to be in charge of us?”
At the front, Zhao Weiguo wore a stiff expression, clearly unhappy.
Previously, the section chief had tasked him and Lin Dong with handling new employees. His uncle, the union chairman, had hinted that the deputy section chief position would be chosen between the two of them and told him to perform well.
Zhao Weiguo had taken it seriously, competing hard and trying to outshine Lin Dong. Even the leadership had praised him.
He thought the position was as good as his—until, at the last moment, a fat guy transferred from Ju County took it!
Damn it!
This was Mingfeng City! What right did some country bumpkin from Ju County have to lord over them?
Zhao Weiguo cursed inwardly nonstop. On the surface, aside from his tense face, nothing showed.
He raised a loudspeaker. “Everyone, quiet please. Welcome to the canning factory, and welcome to the big family of the factory. Now, let’s invite our Production Section’s deputy section chief, Comrade Li Dajun, to speak.”
The internal power struggles above didn’t yet affect the ordinary workers below.
Hearing that he was the deputy section chief, everyone applauded enthusiastically.
This was their boss—they had to show enthusiasm.
Baolan clapped perfunctorily.
Zhao Weiguo and Lin Dong stepped aside. Li Dajun stood there with a friendly smile, gesturing calmly for silence. In a steady voice, he said, “Like all of you, I’m new here. I won’t say much—there’s plenty of time for us to get to know each other. I’ll just talk about one thing: wages.”
Facing a sea of eager eyes, Li Dajun smiled. “You may have heard from the personnel office that, to accommodate all of us newcomers, the factory has scheduled this month’s wage distribution for today.”
“Yes, yes, we heard!”
“When are wages being paid?”
“Quiet, let me finish,” Li Dajun said. “The factory is considerate of us, and we shouldn’t trouble the finance office by rushing there all at once. I’ve coordinated with them—our training will end at 11 a.m.”
“After that, we’ll collect wages in batches. How does that sound?”
“Good!”
“We’ll follow the leader!”
“Leader, you’re a good leader!”
The crowd cheered and applauded, feeling that this deputy section chief was decent—straightforward and willing to do practical things for them.
In the corner, Zhao Weiguo curled his lips in disdain and even lowered his guard to whisper to Lin Dong mockingly, “Oh, collecting wages at eleven, how nice~”
“What nonsense! It was clearly the section chief’s decision, and he’s taking credit for it—trying to make himself look good. Shameless.”
Lin Dong chuckled at his sarcastic tone.
“I’m telling you, he’s a schemer,” Zhao Weiguo nudged Lin Dong, trying to pull him into an alliance. “We need to stick together and deal with him. We can’t let an outsider bully us on our own turf.”
“A schemer?”
“Doesn’t he look like one? That plump face! Who these days can afford to get that fat? Maybe we should investigate his background—what if he’s from a landlord family?”
Lin Dong suppressed a laugh. “There’s already been a background check. He should be fine.”
Though Zhao Weiguo had acted arrogant before, Lin Dong hadn’t expected him to be like this in private.
After announcing the wage distribution, Li Dajun also informed them that the originally planned one-week training had been shortened to two days, after which they would begin work in the workshop.
Baolan had imagined training as learning factory rules, production tasks, getting guided through the workshops, being taught how to operate machines, learning the processes and precautions for making fruit and meat cans, and then being assessed and assigned to suitable workshops.
But unexpectedly, not only had the training time been cut short, even the content was nothing like she had imagined.