Sun Deming ignored Team Leader Ma’s reply. His gaze settled instead on Lu Jinxia. His lips curved faintly. “I heard this young comrade speak just now. Was it she who discovered the error?”
Team Leader Ma started, then nodded hurriedly. “Yes, exactly! She’s a temporary hand newly assigned to our group. Sharp-eyed—she spotted it first.”
Sun Deming looked directly at Lu Jinxia. “Your name?”
“Good day, Director Sun. My name is Lu Jinxia.” She stood straight, her voice steady—neither timid nor boastful.
“Education?”
“High school graduate.”
Sun Deming nodded. He held out a hand for the sample copy, flipped to the problematic page, and studied it with narrowed eyes.
Workshop Director Zhou leaned in for a look, and his expression darkened at once. “The error is plain to see. What on earth was the typesetting department thinking? If this had gone to press, the losses would have been enormous.”
Sun Deming said nothing. He turned several more pages to confirm that only that single page was flawed, then handed the book back to Director Zhou.
“Have the typesetting team prepare a revised proof. Print no further copies of this batch for now. Submit a report to my office later—I want to know exactly at which stage this mistake occurred.”
Director Zhou assented promptly.
Sun Deming turned back to Lu Jinxia. His tone was measured, yet carried unmistakable approval. “Comrade Lu Jinxia is a fine worker. Well done. Keen observation and a strong sense of responsibility—reporting problems promptly as they arise. That is exactly how it should be.”
Lu Jinxia bowed her head slightly, speaking earnestly. “Thank you, Director Sun. I merely happened to glance through the copy—it was nothing more than my duty.”
Sun Deming smiled, said no more, and led the group away.
Once the leaders were out of earshot, Team Leader Ma let out a long breath and pressed a hand to his chest. “Comrade Lu… you have saved us from a great deal of trouble today. Had this slipped through and been printed, the cost would have been staggering.”
Lu Jinxia smiled. “Team Leader Ma… what about the assembly line?”
“Stop it. Halt production at once.” Team Leader Ma hurried away to give the order.
Word of the incident spread through the workshop that very day. Liu Xiaomei’s cousin, who worked as a clerk in the workshop office and always heard news first, told Liu Xiaomei everything that evening.
“That friend of yours—Lu Jinxia—made quite an impression on Director Sun today. He praised her to her face as a model comrade! Can you believe it?”
It was why Liu Xiaomei had kept bringing the matter up ever since.
Back in the canteen, Liu Xiaomei was still chattering away. “How do you manage such luck? Director Sun rarely visits the workshop—and the very day he does, you happen to spot a printing error.”
Lu Jinxia took a mouthful of rice and replied calmly: “Luck would have done nothing—someone still had to notice it first.”
“That’s true enough.” Liu Xiaomei nodded, then leaned in again. “Were you nervous? Standing there in front of all those important people?”
“Why should I be nervous?” Lu Jinxia replied evenly. “I had done nothing wrong.”
Sister Zhang, who had been listening nearby, spoke up—an uncommon remark from her. “This girl Lu Jinxia… she has composure.”
At two o’clock that afternoon, the full-factory assembly began. Lu Jinxia guided Liu Xiaomei to seats in the centre of the third row—neither too close nor too far back, positioned squarely within the leaders’ line of sight.
Liu Xiaomei whispered: “Why sit so near the front? It will look terrible if we doze off.”
“Who said anything about dozing?” Lu Jinxia gave her a sidelong glance. “Sit up and pay attention.”
The meeting commenced. First, Workshop Director Zhou reviewed the previous month’s production figures and read out a long string of numbers that soon had the audience nodding off. Lu Jinxia sat perfectly upright, nodding at intervals, a notebook in hand in which she occasionally jotted a mark. When Liu Xiaomei stole a glance, she saw the notebook contained no data at all—only five characters: “Buy steamed buns after work.” She nearly burst out laughing, earning a sharp kick under the table from Lu Jinxia.
Director Zhou finished speaking. As his voice fell, scattered applause broke out—most minds had wandered, and hands were raised slowly and unevenly. Yet Lu Jinxia’s applause rang out sooner than all the rest, clear and crisp—an unmistakable sound of genuine acknowledgement. It was not affectation; she simply reacted faster than others. In her past life at the company, she had long grown accustomed to applauding the moment a superior finished speaking—her mind grasped the end, and her hands followed. The habit had carried over to this life.
Liu Xiaomei had once teased her: “Why do you always clap first? Before I’ve even realised they’ve finished, you’re already applauding.”
Lu Jinxia had considered it and replied simply: “They have finished speaking. Why wait?” Where others lagged half a beat, she was half a beat ahead—creating the appearance of a full beat’s difference. What came naturally to her appeared to others as enthusiasm and political awareness. She saw no reason to change it—certainly not when it did her no harm.
Director Zhou stepped down, and Sun Deming took the floor. Today, Deputy Director Sun wore a navy Zhongshan suit, his hair combed immaculately. As he stood before the assembly, he cut an impressive figure. He began by commending the workforce’s achievements over the past month and outlining the latest directives from above. Finally, he named the teams with the highest output—and sure enough, theirs was among them.
As their work group was announced, Lu Jinxia had her hands ready. The moment Sun Deming’s voice fell—clap, clap, clap—clear, ringing applause, once more the very first. Spurred by her lead, those around her felt foolish delaying and joined in, turning what would have been scattered clapping into a unified round. Sun Deming looked toward the sound, recognised her, and allowed a faint, knowing smile to touch his lips. His voice rose noticeably: “Among us are young comrades who do not only work diligently—they show exemplary spirit and attitude. All should learn from such an example.”
Lu Jinxia smiled—a measured, pleasant smile, neither excessive nor lacking in warmth. Liu Xiaomei nudged her with an elbow, whispering: “Did you hear that? Director Sun was praising you!”
Lu Jinxia said nothing, maintaining her composed expression.
When the meeting concluded, Sun Deming descended from the platform. As he passed their section, he paused and looked directly at Lu Jinxia. “Comrade Lu Jinxia… I have reviewed your group’s monthly report. Excellent work.”
Lu Jinxia stood up at once. “Thank you, Director Sun. All credit belongs to our team leader and Workshop Director for their capable leadership.”
Sun Deming smiled, said nothing further, and walked on.
Once he had gone, Liu Xiaomei seized Lu Jinxia’s arm excitedly. “Did you hear? Director Sun spoke directly to you!”
“I heard. You’re going to leave bruises.”
“I’m only excited for you!” Liu Xiaomei released her, eyes shining. “Do you think… you’ll be made permanent soon?”
Lu Jinxia gathered her belongings and began walking toward the exit. “Too soon to say. I’ve only been here a few months.”
“I’d say it won’t be long!” Liu Xiaomei chattered, keeping pace behind her. “You work faster than anyone, you speak so appropriately, and you react the moment a superior finishes speaking. If anyone deserves a permanent post, it’s you!”
Lu Jinxia smiled but did not reply. Privately, she longed for permanency—and far more than that: she meant to rise through the ranks. Yet she knew better than to voice such ambitions to Liu Xiaomei. It would appear overly eager, and there was no need.
Outside the factory gates, they parted ways—Liu Xiaomei heading east, Lu Jinxia west.
Reaching home, she found Wang Xiulan in the kitchen, stir-frying over a blazing fire. The thick smoke filled the room, and Lu Jinxia coughed as the fumes stung her throat.