My era, 1979!

Chapter 13 Provincial Department of Education and Deputy Director Wang

The red brick walls of the Education Hall were scorching hot from the sun.

"What are you doing?" The old man in the gatehouse twirled the iron ball without even lifting his eyelids. "Registering."

Hey, security guards from any era all have such a vivid appearance!

I suddenly remembered a joke from my past life and chuckled.

"I'm a security guard in our neighborhood, and my favorite food is bear-shaped cookies!"

Xu Chengjun paused on the register, his face contorting like a grotesque image: "Sir, I'm from Fengyang, looking for Director Wang. Officer Liu Qingwen has already spoken to me."

He deliberately emphasized the three characters "Liu Qingwen".

No matter when, mentioning the middleman's name is more effective than a vague "getting things done".

The old man's iron ball slowed down, and he glanced up at him: "Third floor, turn left, third door. Director Wang just came back."

As soon as Xu Chengjun left, the old man touched his teeth and wondered, "What's that kid laughing about?"
Did the chives I ate this morning get stuck in my teeth?

Tsk~——
There was a mixed smell in the hallway.

The scent of ink, the dampness of old wood, and the aroma of stewed cabbage and tofu wafting from the cafeteria.

The terrazzo floor on the third floor of the Education Department was polished to a shine by footsteps. Xu Chengjun stood under the sign for the "Higher Education Department".

Xu Chengjun gently knocked on the door.

"Enter."

Deputy Director Wang's voice came through the door, sounding somewhat stiff.

Xu Chengjun recognizes that voice.
He looked like this in his past life too!

When Xu Chengjun pushed open the door, he saw the other person looking up, his reading glasses slipping off his nose, his gaze sweeping from his worn-out cloth shoes all the way to the sweaty collar of his shirt.

"Sit down." Deputy Director Wang pointed to the wooden chair opposite him, but did not get up himself. He tapped the rim of the enamel mug on the table with his finger.

The words on the jar were worn away, and the strong tea inside had a dark brown hue.

As soon as Xu Chengjun sat down, he sensed the weighing in those eyes.

He stood up straight.

Unassuming, yet possessing a sense of integrity.

Bureaucrats, huh?
"From Fengyang?"

Deputy Director Wang picked up his teacup, took a sip, and frowned slightly. "I received Liu Qingwen's telegram. He said your manuscript is 'quite interesting.'"

This statement leaves room for interpretation, as if the word "meaning" is in quotation marks.

"It's because of Comrade Liu's high praise."

Xu Chengjun smiled and took out a manuscript from his canvas bag. "Editor-in-Chief Zhou Ming just sent a telegram a few days ago. The revised manuscript can be published in September."

He made a point of pronouncing the two characters "Zhou Ming" clearly.

It's about leveraging existing momentum, and it's also about having confidence.

Deputy Director Wang took the manuscript paper and turned the pages one by one, leaving only the rustling sound of the pages turning in the air.

Deputy Director Wang's gaze lingered on the section about "Old Xu blushing as he explained that the wind blew away half a bag of grain," then he suddenly looked up and asked, "Your shirt... are you short on cloth coupons?"

Xu Chengjun's heart skipped a beat, and he immediately realized that this was a test of his reaction.

He touched his collar and gave a self-deprecating smile: "The cloth ration coupons for educated youth were distributed per person, three feet a year, which was barely enough to make a jacket. This was only because my sister Xiaomei saved up half a year's worth of coupons to buy me this last year when she was an apprentice at the textile factory."

He throws out words like "sister" and "textile factory," like casting a net to catch a bit of everyday life.

Deputy Director Wang's brows seemed to relax slightly, and he drew a circle on the manuscript paper with his fingertip: "Does Old Xu have a prototype?"

"Old Shuan is the epitome of that generation, a 'collective figure'."

Xu Chengjun paused for a moment, "If we're talking about the prototype, the prototype is in Xujiatun, and also in countless production teams." It's not good to say anything about Xu Laoshi right now, the wind direction isn't clear yet.

Don't cause any more trouble for that old man!

Deputy Director Wang snorted but didn't refute. Instead, he pushed the paper aside and said, "Speak, what do you want to see me about?"

The time is almost here.

Xu Chengjun untied the canvas bag and gently placed the oil paper package on the corner of the table; the corner of the paper was still covered with a bit of yellow dirt.

"Before I came, Xu Laoshi from the team asked me to bring you something. This is Fengyang vermicelli, made purely from mung beans, without any sweet potato flour."

He spoke naturally, and his movements were very practiced.

Deputy Director Wang asked suspiciously: So skilled?

"Last year, the rains were good, and the mung beans grew thickly. The team ground some into fine powder and said they would let the city leaders try it."

Giving gifts should be done with the pretext of "collective" activities to make it seem less like a personal favor.

Xu Chengjun deliberately didn't say "his own," but instead put it under the name of "the team."

Some people accept this approach, or rather, this is the only way to go.

Deputy Director Wang's gaze lingered on the oil paper package for two seconds. He neither touched it nor dismissed it, but simply asked, "Is Xu Zhiguo your father?"

"Yes," Xu Chengjun answered readily. "You might remember that in 65, I was involved in literacy campaigns in the commune, teaching farmers to calculate their harvest using wheat straw."

Deputy Director Wang stopped pointing, and when he looked up, his eyes warmed a little: "I was doing literacy campaigns in a county back then. I never saw it, but I'd heard of it."

He suddenly laughed, "Your slyness is unlike him."

Xu Chengjun quickly replied, his tone carrying a hint of junior's earnestness: "My father always says that there should be rules when doing things. This time, I'm troubling you by following the proper procedures and not daring to do anything reckless."

He emphasized the word "rules".

This is a statement, and also a message to the leadership.

Whether it succeeds or fails, it's all part of the rules, isn't it?
Deputy Director Wang finally picked up the oil paper package, weighed it in his hand, and could feel its weight even through the paper.

He didn't open it, but simply stuffed it into the drawer under the table, his movements quite natural: "I'll keep the fans, consider it a token of your appreciation."

"Fudan University has only two special admission slots available in the entire province this year."

Deputy Director Wang pulled a form from the folder, his pen hovering over the "Reasons for Recommendation" column. "But this draft of yours... Zhou Ming called and said it could serve as a 'living textbook' for grassroots reforms."

He put down his pen, making a scratching sound on the paper. "Go to the personnel department this afternoon, find Section Chief Li, and tell him that I approved it."

When Xu Chengjun stood up, the canvas bag strap left a red mark on his palm.

As they reached the door, Deputy Director Wang suddenly spoke again: "Tell your father to come to Hefei and visit me. Your father has guts!"

"Yes!" Xu Chengjun responded loudly, and the weight in his heart lifted with a thud.

"Thank you, Director Wang!"
-
As I went downstairs, sunlight streamed in through the corridor windows, casting bright spots on the floor.

Xu Chengjun touched the recommendation form in his pocket; the pages were warm from his body heat.

He recalled what Xu Laoshi had said when he stuffed the oil paper package: "It's a small gift, but the sentiment is deep."

Human relationships are like that bag of vermicelli; they look simple, but you have to think carefully before giving them to make them feel right.

A sweet aroma wafted from the popsicle stand on the street corner. Xu Chengjun took out two cents and bought a mung bean popsicle. When he bit into it, the ice shards made his gums go numb.

He gazed at the red brick wall of the Education Hall.

Even though this wall looks thick, as long as you find the right crack, light can always get through.

Xu Chengjun licked the sugar water from the corner of his mouth and quickened his pace.

I should see Editor-in-Chief Zhou tomorrow.

(End of this chapter)