60s: I have a store

Chapter 591 Annual

When the truck loaded with egret chickens slowly drove into the factory, the windows of the Purchasing Department 4 were filled with heads craning their necks to look out.

Xiao Lin's ballpoint pen tapped out a rapid rhythm on the windowsill. Lao Zhang took off his reading glasses and wiped them repeatedly. His eyes behind the lenses were wide open. Sister Wang's hands holding the calculator were shaking slightly.

Looking at Li Anguo standing next to the truck directing the workers to unload chickens, with mud still on his overalls, but talking to the people from the transportation department in high spirits, everyone's eyes were filled with envy and resentment.

"How can a newcomer like him get such a big order?" Xiao Lin gritted his teeth and muttered, his nails almost digging into the wood of the windowsill. "I have been in the factory for three years, and I have never been as outstanding as Li Anguo."

The jealous eyes seemed to be about to overflow.

Old Zhang put on his glasses silently, but his eyes behind the lenses were fixed on the people downstairs. He snorted meaningfully, "Isn't it because of Section Chief Zhou's care?"

Sister Wang in the corner sighed softly, her fingers unconsciously stroking the edge of the calculator. She said nothing, but her eyes were full of envy.

The entire steel plant was like a lake with a stone thrown into it, causing ripples to appear.

In the cafeteria and in the workshop corridors, people were talking about Li Anguo and the 800 chickens he brought back.

"I heard that this batch of chicken is enough for the factory cafeteria to eat for half a month!"

"This guy is really good. He solved the meat supply problem in one go!"

Admiration, jealousy, and speculation were heard one after another, and Li Anguo's name seemed to have wings and quickly spread to every corner.

As the sun sets, Li Anguo changes out of his work clothes and walks briskly on his way home.

The plane trees on the street cast mottled light and shadows, and he couldn't help humming a little tune. The salary slip in his pocket was soaked with sweat, but it felt heavy and particularly reassuring.

When I opened the door, the aroma of food hit me. My mother, wearing an apron, poked her head out of the kitchen and asked, "Why are you so happy today?"

"Mom! The factory's purchasing task was completed very smoothly!" Li Anguo's voice was filled with excitement that could not be concealed, "The leader praised me and said he would give me a bonus!"

The father put down the newspaper in his hand, and the wrinkles on his face turned into flowers with a smile: "Good boy, you really bring honor to our family!"

My sister came over, her eyes sparkling, "Brother, can you buy me a new schoolbag?"

The family sat around the dining table, the light was dim and warm. Li Anguo looked at his parents' pleased smiles and felt that all his hard work was worth it. The incandescent lamp swayed gently on the old ceiling, and the dim halo enveloped the small dining room.

As soon as Li Anguo finished speaking, the sound of enamel bowls colliding on the dining table stopped abruptly.

The mother's hand was still hanging on the soup spoon, tears welled up in her cloudy eyes, and her Adam's apple rolled up and down several times before she uttered a sound: "Really?

"Of course it's true!" Li Anguo took out a wrinkled letter of praise from his trouser pocket and spread it on the mottled wooden table.

My father reached out and stroked the bright red official seal on the letter, and his calloused fingertips lingered on the signature of "Zhou Yimin" for a long time.

He suddenly patted his son's shoulder heavily, and said in an unquestionable and solemn voice: "Remember, Section Chief Zhou is your benefactor!"

Ashes fell from the pipe between his fingers, leaving scorch marks on the tablecloth. "If someone wasn't willing to give you a chance, how could a country boy like me find such a good thing?"

Li Anguo nodded vigorously. He would do it even if his parents didn't tell him to.

The mother wiped her eyes and put the largest poached egg into her son's bowl: "Your father is right. You must not try to be clever in the factory."

Her apron was still stained with rice washing water. "When I see Section Chief Zhou, I have to greet him and help him run errands. I have to get things done even if I have to stay up all night!"

The younger sister tilted her head, not even bothering to help the strap of her schoolbag slip off her shoulder: "Brother, when you become a big leader in the future, don't forget me!"

This sentence made the whole family laugh, but Li Anguo clearly saw his father secretly wipe his eyes when he turned around to add water to the teacup.

The moonlight outside the window climbed up the windowsill and shone on the faded family portrait on the wall.

Li Anguo took a bite of the hot poached egg, and the oil from the egg yolk flowed down the corners of his mouth.

My parents kept giving me advice, and their voices gradually blurred into warm waves.

As the days go by, autumn is almost over and winter is coming quietly without us noticing.

After so long, Li Anguo's affairs have long been forgotten.

Soon, the factory welcomed the most important event of the year, which was the grade assessment meeting.

Many people study hard for a year just for this day. Every time they advance a level, they can earn a few more dollars every month.

The fog had not yet dissipated, and the metal gate of the steel plant slowly rose with the hum of hydraulic devices. Workers from different workshops came to their own workshops and waited for the arrangements of the workshop director.

Almost everyone in the factory is participating, so these few days are definitely very busy, but I’m still happy to think that I can get a raise.

The buttons of the work clothes shone coldly in the sun. Someone was repeatedly stroking the crumpled admission ticket in his pocket. The edges of the paper had long lost their smoothness.

Someone secretly swallowed his saliva, his Adam's apple rolled restlessly at the collar of his work clothes, and the suppressed breathing sounds intertwined into a web, shrouding the entire factory in a tense atmosphere.

In the forging workshop, the 1200℃ furnace was burning fiercely, making the ceiling hot and the heat wave hit people in the face.

Master Wang, the fitter at workstation No. 3, held the file tightly in his hand, and the sweat from his palms left wet marks on the metal blank.

"Start counting!" The workshop director's whistle pierced the air like a sharp blade. Thirty-seven machine tools made a deafening roar at the same time, and iron chips flew like silver rain.

Yang Guo was concentrating on operating the hydraulic shearing machine, and the metal sheets moved slowly under the robotic arm.

At this moment, a sharp metal scraping sound suddenly came from the next workstation - a young worker's caliper accidentally slipped and hit the ground with a thrilling crisp sound, which frightened everyone present and made their hearts shrink.

In the review meeting room, seven spotlights in front of the circular table illuminated the defense booth as bright as day, making it impossible to open one's eyes.

Accountant Liu from the Finance Department pushed up his glasses, trying to hide his nervousness, but his voice still trembled uncontrollably when he explained the cost accounting plan.

Master Zhao from the maintenance team kept wiping the sweat from his forehead. The cuffs of his work clothes were still stained with unwashed engine oil, and his fingertips were slightly white from excessive force.

During lunch break, the aroma of food wafted from the factory cafeteria, but no one had the heart to enjoy it.

On the bench in the waiting area, some people were holding their books of wrong answers and muttering to themselves, their lips turning pale from excessive nervousness; some were repeatedly practicing the equipment operating gestures, each movement carried out with a determination to risk everything.

At this moment in the grading room, the red pens in the hands of the judges were rapidly moving across the test papers. Every check mark and every score was like a hammer of fate, hitting the hopes of every family in the steel plant and determining the trajectory of their lives for the next year or even longer.

Just when Zhou Yimin was hiding in the office, thinking he could slack off again, the office door was pushed open.

When Zhou Yimin saw that it was Director Ding, he quickly stood up and said, "Director Ding, why are you here?" He was a little surprised. Director Ding was not busy at the moment, so how could he have time to come to see him?
Director Ding said directly: "Yimin, I would like to invite you to participate in the evaluation of the chefs in the back kitchen."

When Zhou Yimin was about to refuse, he suddenly thought that it was a good deal to have a good meal, so he agreed: "Director Ding, I don't quite understand. If something goes wrong, you can't blame me!"

Get some preventive measures in advance to avoid being blamed later.

In the canteen kitchen, the moment the steamer was opened, white mist surged over the workbench, but it could not disperse the stagnant air in the kitchen.

Level 8 chef Chen Dehai repeatedly adjusted the fire for Buddha Jumps Over the Wall. The soup condensed on the edge of the copper pot glowed dark red under the flames, just like his tense nerves at the moment.

His nails dug deep into his palms as he stared at the ticking numbers on the timer, but he kept hearing the sound of Director Ding's leather shoes tapping on tiles - the scene of the cutting error three months ago suddenly flashed back to him, and cold sweat slid down his spine into the waistband of his pants.

At the chopping board area, twenty-year-old Xiao Wu's hand holding the kitchen knife was shaking, and the freshly cut jadeite white jade was curled crookedly on the plate.

He glanced at the electronic clock on the wall. There were still seventeen minutes before the judging. His Adam's apple rolled up and down as he swallowed back the sour taste.

The fresh shepherd's purse that I specially asked someone to bring from my hometown three days ago now feels like a huge rock weighing on my heart.

The crisp sound of iron pots colliding came from the stove next door, which scared him so much that his hand trembled. The blade of the knife brushed against his fingertips, leaving a hideous white mark on the chopping board.

The steamer's buzzer suddenly rang, waking up Zhang Guilan who was arranging the dishes.

She stared at the radish carving she had carefully crafted, but she hadn't noticed that fine cracks had appeared on the edges of the petals.

"It's over, it's over." She murmured softly, and repeatedly adjusted the angle of the dish with tweezers, but she couldn't cover up the blemish.

Master Li in the seasoning area repeatedly checked the proportions of spices, and the glass bottle of five-spice powder made a fine squeaking sound in his palm.

He looked at the twenty jars of homemade bean paste stacked in the corner. The mouths of the jars were sealed tightly with lotus leaves, but the memory of the judges saying "the sauce flavor is not enough" during the review last year was still buzzing in his ears.

When footsteps were heard in the locker room, the entire kitchen suddenly fell into silence. Only the gurgling sound of the copper pot of simmering soup sounded like everyone's intense heartbeats.

Director Ding and his colleagues pushed open the iron door of the cafeteria's kitchen, and the steaming hot air carrying the rich aroma of spices blew towards them. Zhou Yimin subconsciously waved his hand.

Director Ding looked at this "cross-border judge" who was temporarily invited by him, and secretly made calculations in his mind.

You know, Zhou Yimin is a famous inventor in the factory.

Without knowing how good your tongue is, how can you tell whether a dish is good or not? On the stainless steel stove, seven large pots were boiling with white mist at the same time. The chefs were wearing neatly starched aprons, and their spatulas were flying like butterflies. He quietly observed the reactions of Director Ding and the others, wanting to see if this gentle section chief would be choked by the smell of cooking and laugh at himself.

"Chief Zhou, please try this simplified version of Buddha Jumps Over the Wall." When Director Ding handed over the white porcelain spoon, his gaze stayed on the other person's eyes behind the lenses for half a second.

He looked at Zhou Yimin carefully scooping up the thick soup and smiled helplessly. There was no need to be so careful!

Zhou Yimin then said, "The soup has just the right consistency to hang on a spoon."

At this time, Director Ding's fingers holding the thermos cup tightened slightly - this evaluation was unexpectedly professional.

Suddenly, there was a sharp metal scraping sound from the stove next door. His brows were instantly twisted into a "川" shape. He caught a glimpse of the pale face of the young chef out of the corner of his eye and silently deducted two points from him in his heart: he failed at the critical moment and is of no use.

The scoring columns for "color, aroma, taste, and shape" on the evaluation form swayed slightly in front of Zhou Yimin's eyes, but Director Ding focused his eyes on the chefs' subtle movements.

When the master craftsman who was cutting the cucumbers turned his wrist and the cucumber slices as thin as cicada wings stacked into delicate spirals, he nodded secretly in his heart.

This knife skill is definitely rated as top grade. But when Zhou Yimin suggested "reducing the heat by another 30 seconds", his hand holding the pen paused - although this suggestion was correct, it also exposed the pedantry of the literati. How could the kitchen have the conditions for a stopwatch to accurately time?
"Chief Zhou, how about this Mapo Tofu?" Director Ding deliberately emphasized his tone when handing over the dish, wanting to see how the other party would respond to this most challenging home-cooked dish.

Seeing Zhou Yimin staring at the fine pepper powder on the surface of the tofu, I immediately became worried. Could it be that Zhou Yimin can't eat spicy food? You know, spicy is the soul of Mapo Tofu.

Zhou Yimin gritted his teeth and picked up a piece of tofu, put it in his mouth, and chewed it carefully.

Then he said, "The fermented aroma of the meat sauce blends perfectly with the bean paste."

Director Ding also showed a smile on his face. It seemed that he had underestimated Zhou Yimin. He was not only good at inventing other things, but also good at tasting delicious food.

At the moment when the young chef knocked over the vinegar bottle, Director Ding's temples began to throb and his blood pressure almost burst through the top of his head.

Just when he was about to lose his temper, he saw Zhou Yimin stand up and walk towards the operating table. He narrowed his eyes, wanting to see what Zhou Yimin was going to do.

Listening to Zhou Yimin's excuses for the young chef, he could only shake his head helplessly. However, when his eyes swept over the plate of emerald white jade rolls that showed his skill even after being soaked in vinegar, he had to admit that the young man's knife skills were indeed remarkable.

When Zhou Yimin wrote encouraging comments on the score sheet, Director Ding twirled the pen in his hand and suddenly realized that perhaps this cross-border judge knew how to retain talent better than he did.

As the scoring process drew to a close, the noise in the kitchen gradually died down, leaving only the sporadic sound of washing dishes.

Zhou Yimin's evaluation form was densely covered with comments and scores, and the sweat from his palms left faint marks on the edge of the paper.

The last dish to be judged was hot and sour soup. Tender yellow egg drops and dark red ham shreds floated in the amber soup, and the steaming heat blurred everyone's eyes.

When he brought the spoon to his mouth, a suppressed gasp suddenly came from next door.

Following the sound, I saw a young chef in the corner with a pale face. The overturned vinegar bottle was flowing on the workbench, leaving a winding trail and wetting a plate of carefully arranged emerald white jade rolls.

The chef wiped it with a rag in a panic, but his fingertips were cut by the edge of the porcelain plate. Blood dripped onto the snow-white face, blurring out a dazzling red plum.

"Xiao Wu!" The canteen director frowned, his tone filled with dissatisfaction.

The young chef's lips trembled. He wanted to say something but swallowed it back. His eyes quickly turned red.

Zhou Yimin looked at the score that had not yet been filled in on the evaluation form, and his previous concerns rang in his ears again - he was afraid that the evaluation would affect the chef's rating.

That's why he held back from saying anything. Then, putting down the spoon, Zhou Yimin stood up and walked to the young chef.

"Let me see." He said softly, his eyes sweeping across the workbench, noting that the jadeite white jade rolls were evenly cut, the vegetables were fresh and crisp, and even the parts soaked in vinegar still showed the care that went into their production.

He turned to look at Director Ding: "The mistakes in this dish are understandable. The preparations in the early stages show that we have a solid foundation."

As he said this, he returned to the judges' table, wrote down his score on the score sheet, and added: "His skills are superb. If he can be more calm, he will have a promising future."

The young chef looked up suddenly, his eyes full of shock and gratitude.
The director was slightly stunned, then smiled and shook his head: "Section Chief Zhou is soft-hearted."

The other judges also cast glances of approval or confusion.

(End of this chapter)