Mostly they chatted of household matters, factory wages, and the looming rural assignment that weighed on everyone’s mind.
The midday break was short. After a brief rest following the meal, work resumed in the afternoon.
The repetitive assembly-line work was tedious and wearing. The same motions were repeated all afternoon until her arms ached and her lower back felt heavy and swollen. Lu Jinxia dared not slacken her pace. She knew she must perform well, strive for permanent status, and eventually move away from the line.
When the workday ended, she rubbed her aching shoulders, bade farewell to the senior worker who had been guiding her, gathered her things, and headed home.
Dusk was falling. The streetlamps along the lane cast a dim, yellow glow.
Upon her arrival, Wang Xiulan was setting dishes on the table while Lu Jianguo sat resting beside it. Lu Lichun sat nearby sorting vegetables. Looking up as Lu Jinxia entered, she spoke to her voluntarily. “You’re back? Are you tired after your first day?”
Lu Jinxia paused momentarily, then replied evenly, “It’s manageable. A little tired.”
“Go wash your hands and come to dinner. We’ve been waiting for you,” Wang Xiulan called out warmly.
The evening meal passed peacefully and without incident.
A month slipped by quickly. Lu Jinxia had settled well into life at the printing factory and had gotten along easily with those at her work station.
On payday, every face wore a smile, bright with anticipation.
Lu Jinxia received eighteen yuan in wages for the month. Upon returning home, she handed over three yuan to the household for her board, which Wang Xiulan accepted.
The remaining fifteen yuan Lu Jinxia placed carefully inside her personal space—a wooden box kept there specifically for holding money and coupons. The box was divided into separate compartments, each designated for different items: one for large-denomination banknotes, another for smaller change, and others still for various ration coupons.
Over the past two years, the prepared foods she had earlier stored there had been mostly consumed. Now that she received regular wages, she intended to exchange some money for grain coupons and then purchase more food from the state-run restaurant to replenish her stock.
Throughout these years, she had made her undergarments from the fine cotton cloth she kept stored; it was soft and comfortable against the skin, and so this stock had diminished the most. The thicker, indigo-blue bolts of cloth were sturdy and heavy—unsuitable for underwear—and so remained largely unused. Her supply of powdered milk had scarcely diminished, and the pure milk she had drunk sparingly remained about half its original amount. Most depleted were the braised chicken, red-cooked pork, chicken broth, and bone broth she had previously set aside. Some cured sausages remained—usually eaten sliced inside steamed buns—and a stock of white-flour steamed buns that could not easily be eaten in public, so she consumed them quietly. The steamed stuffed buns and fried dough sticks had all been eaten, leaving only a few buns remaining.
She hoped therefore to purchase fresh meat buns, braised pork, and other cooked meat dishes from the state-run restaurant to replenish her stores. Such purchases required grain coupons, however—and her stock had run low. She would need to trade for more.
Over these months, Lu Jinxia had come to know her fellow workers. After careful consideration, she approached a certain Sister Zhang—a woman known to be reliable and discreet. Privately, Lu Jinxia offered her some of her indigo cotton cloth in exchange for a substantial amount of grain coupons.
With coupons secured and money in hand, Lu Jinxia chose an evening when she finished work early and made her way directly to the state-run restaurant on the eastern side of the city. There were state-run eateries closer to home in the western district, but she feared being recognized there. She had no wish to share her purchases with prying eyes and gossiping neighbors. Before leaving that morning, she had told her family she would be late returning because she had arranged to dine with Li Shuhe—a friendship they were already accustomed to her visiting frequently.
At the restaurant, she bought braised pork and several steaming hot meat-filled buns. She ate a portion there, placed the rest in a food container, wrapped it in cloth, and then transferred it all into her private space.
The days unfolded simply and peacefully. As the weather grew warmer, graduation season arrived—and with it, the annual rural assignment period that brought both activity and anxiety to the city.
During the midday break, the factory women gathered and talked as always—of daily life, wages, and the assignments everyone dreaded. Amid their conversation, a familiar name drifted to Lu Jinxia’s ears: Lin Wanxing.
The name struck a distinct chord. It belonged to the heroine in a novel she had read in a past life. She listened more closely, piecing together details about the family and the destination of their assignment. Everything aligned perfectly. It was then Lu Jinxia understood with absolute certainty: she had been transported into the world of that story. And she herself was merely an insignificant background character—a passerby in the plot.
In the book, the heroine Lin Wanxing had already been sent to the countryside the previous year. Now, her younger brother’s name had appeared on the current assignment list as well. The family had reportedly used connections to ensure he was sent to the same rural area as his sister, so that the two might look out for one another.
Lu Jinxia recalled that the heroine in that story had also been a time-traveler. Upon being sent to the countryside, she had faced many difficulties, yet had overcome every obstacle through her resourcefulness. She had prospered, carved out a secure place for herself through her own ability, and eventually returned to the city with distinction after the restoration of the national college entrance examination—her future bright and assured.
Recalling the plot, Lu Jinxia felt no particular emotion. Whether she was a minor character or simply part of the scenery mattered little to her. She desired only to live her own life steadily, quietly, and in safety.
Following graduation, Li Shuhe had secured a position at the Supply and Marketing Cooperative—a respectable, stable post that drew the envy of many. Their friendship remained unchanged. On Sundays when time permitted, they walked together in the parks, conversing freely. Now that Li Shuhe worked at the Cooperative, it became far easier for Lu Jinxia to obtain goods. In future, whenever scarce supplies were needed, she would no longer need to queue blindly or depend on luck; much effort would be spared.
And so her life continued—unhurried, steady, and calm.
Another month passed. Lu Jinxia grew increasingly proficient at her work. Her movements became swift and sure. Her daily routine, her route to and from the factory, and the rhythm of family life all unfolded in an orderly pattern.
Then, unexpectedly, trouble arose concerning her elder brother Lu Weidong’s marriage.
His intended bride was named Zhao Guixiang. Until recently, she had seemed reasonable enough. Yet in the past few days—evidently influenced by someone’s meddling behind the scenes—her attitude had shifted abruptly. Just as matters stood on the verge of engagement, the Zhao family issued a direct condition: permission for the marriage would be granted only if the Lu family secured a regular job for Zhao Guixiang.
The demand stunned the entire household. The family sat together in the room, sighing in dismay. Everyone understood only too well how precious and rare a permanent position was in those times; no one would willingly relinquish such work.
Wang Xiulan was the first to shake her head. She had held her own post for years, only recently seeing her monthly wage rise to more than fifty yuan—decent pay and secure employment. Were she to give up her position, whoever took it would begin anew at the lowest rank. Her salary would revert to its earliest, modest level, and the household income would suffer accordingly.