After all, Li Shuhe was the very first true friend Lu Jinxia had made in this world. She also knew that when friendships became tangled in favors and obligations, they were all too easily lost. Positions at the Supply and Marketing Cooperative were highly sought after—people practically broke their heads trying to get in. Li Shuhe’s guaranteed place came from her family’s influence; it would be entirely improper for Lu Jinxia to try and push her way in through such connections.
Li Shuhe understood her friend’s character. She knew Lu Jinxia was fiercely independent and hated asking for help, so she did not press the matter. “It’s all right—don’t let it weigh on you,” she said gently. “My father is a reasonable man. But if you truly have nowhere to turn in the end, don’t bear it all alone. Come tell me. More connections always mean more paths forward.”
The afternoon sun streamed through the cafeteria’s wooden windows, falling warm and soft upon their table. They ate slowly, chatting casually about their studies and what lay ahead. Then Li Shuhe leaned in, sharing a piece of news she’d heard.
“Don’t let yourself grow too anxious. Graduation is still months away—and things can change quickly. My father mentioned recently that some units hire extra temporary workers in spring and summer. You wouldn’t even need to wait for graduation.”
“Really?” Lu Jinxia looked up, a flicker of light returning to her eyes.
“Why would I lie?” Li Shuhe finished her meal, setting down her lunchbox and wiping her mouth. “My father deals with every unit in the region year-round—his information is far more reliable than school gossip. Those temporary posts may not carry permanent status, but if you can stay in the city, there’s always a chance to become regular later. It’s surely better than being sent straight to the countryside the moment you graduate.”
Lu Jinxia felt a flicker of hope. She knew all too well what being sent down meant.
“Then—please keep an eye out for me,” Lu Jinxia said earnestly. “If you hear anything, tell me. I can present myself at any time. And once I’ve secured work here—truly, I will repay you for this.”
Li Shuhe laughed warmly. “Then I shall hold you to that promise!”
They packed their empty lunchboxes and walked with the crowd back toward the classroom.
Days passed at a steady pace. Spring warmth deepened all around them. Buds unfurled into full green leaves, and the date of graduation drew ever nearer. Lu Jinxia carried her worry with her, devoting nearly every spare moment to seeking work. She visited every school bulletin board, every street-side job-posting wall, and every state-run factory gate within walking distance. At the slightest rumor of hiring, she rushed there immediately.
Yet every single time, the answer was the same: Positions filled.
Work in the city was scarce beyond measure. Countless graduates and unemployed youth vied for so few openings. Even the most modest temporary posts vanished the moment they were announced. Worse still—many were reserved privately in advance, never truly available to the public at all. Again and again she ran there with hope in her heart, only to return disappointed. Her anxiety mounted steadily.
As for her own family—she had long since given up expecting help. Work was growing harder to find by the day. The Lu family could not be said to have made no effort on her behalf; they had asked around, certainly. But whether they had truly tried in earnest—she could not say. She would not rely on them. She would stand entirely on her own.
Lying in bed at night, staring up at the apartment block’s water-stained ceiling, she found herself tempted to seek Li Shuhe’s help. Her father’s connections ran deep—an inquiry from him would surely yield better results than Lu Jinxia running aimlessly about like a fly without a head. But then she reconsidered, and pushed the thought away.
Favors were the heaviest debt to repay. Li Shuhe offered her kindness freely and from the heart—but such a tremendous favor would bind her to a debt she could never know how to settle. Until she had truly exhausted every possibility, she would not accept such generosity. She resolved to try a little longer on her own. Only when all hope failed would she ask—and owe.
One morning, just as dawn broke clear and bright, Lu Jinxia set out early for school as usual. She walked briskly along familiar streets—and as she turned the corner, she spotted two men in work uniforms standing beside the Red Flag Printing House’s outer wall. They were in the act of pasting up a brand-new job notice.
Lu Jinxia halted in her tracks, her eyes lighting up instantly. She hurried forward, gazing intently at the bright red paper with bold black characters, newly smoothed and fixed to the wall. At last! A hiring announcement!
She stepped forward to read it fully—but scarcely two minutes had passed when the two men quickly tore the notice down. They folded it neatly, slipped it into their bag, and turned to leave—swift, practiced, as though nothing had ever been posted there at all.
Lu Jinxia stood stunned. In that moment, she understood everything. No wonder she had walked her legs off and found nothing! The announcement had stood for barely two minutes—no ordinary citizen could even have read it, let alone applied—before being removed. How could any ordinary person ever hope to secure such a post?
It required no great insight to see the truth: these positions had long since been promised to others privately. The public posting was nothing but a hollow formality.
It was sheer luck—nothing more—that she had risen early and witnessed the entire scene. Otherwise, she might have searched until her feet gave way and never learned the truth.
Reacting instantly, Lu Jinxia did not hesitate. She stepped forward quickly and barred their path before they could depart.
“Comrades—wait a moment, please!”
The two men stopped and turned toward her, their expressions shifting to cool, dismissive indifference.
“I saw you posting the job announcement for the printing house just now,” Lu Jinxia said clearly. “It’s for general workers, is it not? Please—may I have an application form?”
The older of the two frowned and waved her away, his tone brusque and perfunctory. “Young lady, do not waste your time. All positions are filled. There are no vacancies—and no forms left. Go on your way now; we have work to attend to.”
“Filled already?” Lu Jinxia lifted an eyebrow and stepped forward. “Comrade—I watched the entire time. That notice was posted barely two minutes ago. It has not even had time to be seen, let alone filled. How could it possibly be full already?”
The men’s eyes flickered, unable to meet hers steadily. They grew sharp and dismissive, trying to push past her.
“Those are the rules—filled means filled. There is nothing we can do. Do not delay us here.”
“Not filled,” Lu Jinxia said firmly, refusing to yield an inch. “Reserved in advance, is it not?” She had caught them red-handed; she would not let this slip away.
“If your factory chooses to post announcements publicly, it is to give ordinary people a fair chance. If posts are being allocated privately and in secret, there would be no need for public notices at all! Since you have chosen to post publicly, you must hire fairly. If you lack the authority to answer this—then I shall go directly to your factory leadership and ask: does the Red Flag Printing House conduct all its hiring through hidden arrangements and deception?”
Young she might be—but her presence commanded respect. Her gaze was steady, unflinching, and unafraid. The two men knew perfectly well the irregularities at play; they had merely been going through the motions. What they feared most was precisely this—having their actions brought to the attention of their superiors.