In the fiery red era of the heavens, refrigerators are refreshed daily.

Chapter 155, Section 154: Concerns and Reassurance, Gratitude and Motivation

At five o'clock in the afternoon, the leaden-gray clouds hung low, and the biting north wind swirled, stirring up scattered fallen leaves and the lingering smell of burning on the factory roads.

The lobby of the factory office building seemed rather empty, with people in blue-gray overalls hurrying in and out. Yang Guangming had just finished organizing a document when the internal phone on his desk suddenly rang.

He picked up the receiver: "Hello, this is the office of Deputy Factory Director Zhao Guodong."

“Mingming, it’s me.” The voice of her mother, Zhang Xiuying, came from the other end of the phone, deliberately lowered but unable to hide her anxiety. “Could you…could you come to the front of the office building? There’s something I need to discuss, and it’s not clear over the phone.”

Yang Guangming's heart skipped a beat. For his mother to call from the workshop at this hour and insist on meeting, it must be something important. "Okay, Mom, I'll be right down."

After hanging up the phone, he quickly tidied his desk, put on his slightly worn navy blue youth jacket, and strode out of the office.

The cold wind was even more biting in the small square in front of the office building. Zhang Xiuying, with her head wrapped in a faded headscarf and the collar of her dark blue cotton-padded jacket turned up, hunched her neck and kept stamping her feet to keep warm.

She kept glancing towards the office building entrance, her brow furrowed and her hands tucked into her sleeves.

"Mom!" Yang Guangming strode down the steps and walked to his mother's side. "Why are you waiting here? The wind is so strong, you'll freeze."

As soon as Zhang Xiuying saw her son, she rushed over and grabbed his arm with considerable force. She first looked him up and down, and seeing that there was no obvious distress on his face, and even a bit of his usual composure, she breathed a slight sigh of relief, but the worry in her eyes did not lessen at all.

“Mingming, Mom is really worried!” Her voice was low, with the urgency typical of women from Shanghai. “I heard that Kuang Juncai is incredibly stubborn and refuses to admit to arson! The security department has been interrogating him all day, but they haven’t produced any evidence. They keep bringing up the same old story about the old electrical wires.”

She gasped for breath, the cold wind reddening her cheeks: "The warehouse burning down has alarmed the whole city! The impact is huge! If the investigation turns out to be an equipment problem, an accident... then Deputy Factory Director Zhao Guodong, he's in charge of this, he can't escape leadership responsibility! I heard... I heard he might be transferred! Reassigned from his post!"

She stared intently into her son's eyes, as if trying to see something in them: "Mom isn't concerned about whether Deputy Factory Director Zhao is transferred or not, or whether he becomes an official or not. What does that have to do with us?"
Mom is worried about you!

You were his personally promoted secretary! If he falls from grace and is transferred, will you still be able to keep your job as his secretary? Your future...aren't you... saddened?"

Zhang Xiuying's eyes were filled with a mother's worry, as if she could already see her son's bleak future. Her rough hands gripped her son's arm tightly, conveying her unease.

Yang Guangming felt the strength and warmth from his mother's hands and saw the concern in her eyes.

A warmth filled his heart, and a determination to comfort her welled up within him.

He gently patted his mother's hand, a confident and composed smile on his face.

"Mom, don't worry!" His voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear and carried an undeniable force. "Those rumors outside are not true. Deputy Factory Director Zhao will definitely be fine! Transferred to another post? Impossible."

He leaned slightly closer to his mother, his voice lower but more resolute: "The case hasn't been finalized yet, but this fire was set by Kuang Juncai! It's a done deal!"

He stole so much cloth, leaving such a huge hole in the books. Seeing that he couldn't cover it up any longer, he resorted to desperate measures and set fire to try and burn the evidence. Isn't that obvious?

Who is Wang Weidong, the head of the security section? He's a tough guy who used to be a reconnaissance soldier! His subordinates are all elite soldiers.

Kuang Juncai is being stubborn now, simply because his brother-in-law, Factory Director Dou, hasn't completely fallen from power yet. He's trying to buy time and put up a last-ditch resistance.

It won't take long; the chain of evidence will eventually nail him down! Don't worry.

He paused, looked into his mother's eyes, and his tone became even more resolute:

"Even if we take a step back and assume that Kuang Juncai is a tough nut to crack and refuses to budge until the very end, the gold bars, banknotes, deposit slips, and vouchers found in his home are enough to convict him of stealing state property in a particularly large amount, which is enough to get him shot!"
The nature of this fire is perfectly clear to the organization.

At most, Deputy Factory Director Zhao's responsibility is a lack of attention to detail in management. He should be criticized, educated, and have lessons learned. It is definitely not serious enough to warrant a transfer.

So, Mom, you really don't need to worry about me. I'm doing a great job as your secretary."

Yang Guangming's words were like a reassuring pill, reasonable and well-founded, and his tone was calm and confident.

Zhang Xiuying's tense nerves gradually relaxed as her son spoke. She looked closely at her son's face; there was no forced smile, only a calm and confident expression that came from knowing the truth.

She finally let out a long sigh of relief, and loosened her grip on her son's arm.

"That's good, that's good..." she murmured, the worry on her face mostly gone, and even a relieved smile appeared on her face. "It's good that you know what's going on! I was just worried that you're so young and might not be able to handle things like this, and that you'd be upset inside. Hearing you say that makes me feel at ease."

She smoothed her wind-blown headscarf, regaining her usual briskness: "Alright, alright, I'm glad to know you're alright. Mom has to rush back to the workshop; there's still some work to finish. You should go upstairs now; it's chilly outside." She waved and turned to leave, her steps noticeably lighter.

"Mom, drive carefully," Yang Guangming reminded her.

"Understood!" Zhang Xiuying replied without turning her head, and her figure quickly disappeared on the road leading to the workshop.

Watching his mother walk away, Yang Guangming's smile faded, and his eyes calmed down.

He turned and walked back into the office building, facing the biting wind. The noise in the corridor seemed far away; he needed some space to be alone.

As the get off work bell rang, the flow of people leaving the factory gradually thinned out. Yang Guangming followed the crowd out of the factory gate.

The wind of early winter evening brushed against my face, carrying a bone-chilling cold.

Outside the factory gate, bare plane trees line both sides of the road. The streetlights are already on, their dim yellow glow appearing weak and listless in the cold wind.

Walking into the residential compound, in the corridor of Unit 2, Building 3, small coal stoves were emitting wisps of smoke from the doors of each household.

The sounds of stir-frying, the clanging of spatulas, adults calling to children, and the strained strains of model operas from the radio all blended together, creating a noisy yet authentic atmosphere of daily life.

Yang Guangming took out his key and opened the door to room 203.

He took off his cotton-padded coat, hung it up, rubbed his hands which were a little stiff from the cold, and went into the small kitchen in the partitioned room.

Sunlight shone from under the corner counter, pulling out a small bamboo basket. A clean old newspaper covered the basket.

He lifted the newspaper, and inside was a basket of salted duck eggs neatly stacked.

The eggshell has a uniform bluish-gray color, and the egg is plump and round.

His refrigerator space can be refreshed with four salted duck eggs every day, and he accumulates enough to fill a basket.

He used to live in a Shikumen house, and his family knew him very well, so he really couldn't find a reason to use the money to supplement the family income.

Now that I live alone in this small apartment in the tenement building, I feel much freer. I've saved up a whole basket of salted duck eggs over the past few days.

He specifically counted out six today. He picked one up and weighed it in his hand; it was heavy, thoroughly pickled, and tasted just right.

Looking at the six shiny salted duck eggs, Yang Guangming had an idea.

Zhou Dayong, who lives across the street, deserves much credit for successfully finding a breakthrough in today's turmoil.

Without his immediate information about the fire scene, and without the crucial clues he revealed about Kuang Juncai's "high-stakes" dealings and the identity of Director Dou's brother-in-law, Yang Guangming might not have been able to lock onto the target so quickly, let alone obtain that crucial ledger in time.

This favor must be remembered and repaid.

Maintaining good relationships with neighbors, especially those living across the hall, is of utmost importance.

Zhou Dayong works in the security department. He's straightforward, warm-hearted, and a person worth befriending. Deepening relationships simply involves spending more time together and sharing things. Having these "surplus" good things at home is a great way to build rapport.

He found a clean, coarse porcelain bowl with a small chip on the rim; his mother had specially brought it for him from the Shikumen area.

He carefully placed the six salted duck eggs inside. The bluish-gray eggs looked exceptionally plump and tempting in the white, rough porcelain bowl. He carried the bowl to the door and opened it.

The wooden door across the hall was ajar, from which came the babbling of a child and the gentle coaxing of a woman. Yang Guangming raised his hand and gently knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" came the voice of Zhou Dayong's wife, Sister Yang, from inside.

“Sister-in-law, it’s me, Yang Guangming,” Yang Guangming replied.

The door was quickly pulled open.

Young Mrs. Yang was wearing a blue apron, her hands still wet. Behind her, Zhou Dayong sat on a small stool, clumsily teasing their several-month-old son, "Maotou," with a wooden toy gun.

The room was filled with the aroma of noodles and a faint smell of milk, and a kettle sat on the stove, hissing and steaming.

"Oh, Guangming, come in and sit down!" Little Yang's wife greeted him warmly, stepping aside to let him in.

"No, sister-in-law, just a few words." Yang Guangming smiled and handed over the rough porcelain bowl in his hand. "Here, I have some salted duck eggs at home, a gift from a friend. We can't finish them all, so I'll give you a few to try."

Inside the rough porcelain bowl, six plump, bluish-gray salted duck eggs were clearly visible.

These days, salted duck eggs are a rare treat, especially those that look so well-preserved. Ordinary families might not even afford one or two a month. To bring out six at once—this was quite a generous gift. Hearing this, Zhou Dayong stood up, holding his child. Seeing the salted duck eggs in the bowl, his dark face immediately showed surprise and unease.

"Guangming! What...what is this? This is such a valuable item! Take it back! How can we accept such an expensive gift from you!"

He waved his hand repeatedly, and the little boy in his arms became a bit impatient from his father's movements, squirming his little body.

Sister-in-law Yang quickly declined, saying, "That's right! Guangming, you're too kind! Dayong told me when he came back today that he wasn't much of a help, he just said a few words to you, it's all what he should do! We can't accept these salted duck eggs, you keep them for yourself!"

The couple's attitude was very sincere, with a sense of unease and shame at receiving such an honor.

Yang Guangming's smile became even gentler and more sincere. He didn't pull his hand back; instead, he pushed the bowl forward a little more.

"Brother Zhou, sister-in-law, listen to me."

He said sincerely, "Brother Zhou's information was crucial and helped a lot today! I remember it all."

This salted duck egg is really nothing special.

I have a good friend who works at a food company. He has a lot of connections and can often get his hands on some in-demand items that aren't part of the plan.

These salted duck eggs were given to me by him; I still have quite a few at home.

How could I possibly finish all this food by myself? I'm also afraid it will spoil if left for too long.

Here, take a few; they'll help us out of our 'difficulty.'

He paused, and seeing the still hesitant expressions on Zhou Dayong and his wife's faces, he added fuel to the fire:

"Besides, we're neighbors, living right across from each other. A close neighbor is worse than a distant relative. If we ever need something like oil, salt, soy sauce, or vinegar, or if we need any help, we'll have to look out for each other. If you don't accept it, it means you're treating me like an outsider. How could I possibly ask Brother Zhou for help in the future?"

These words not only clarified the "legitimacy" of the salted duck eggs' origin but also emphasized the bond of neighborly assistance, and even carried a touch of humor, portraying "gift-giving" as "solving difficulties" and "building closer relationships." The last phrase, "acting like outsiders," particularly struck a chord with Zhou Dayong and his wife.

Zhou Dayong was an honest man who valued relationships above all else. Looking into Yang Guangming's sincere eyes and then at the glistening salted duck egg in the bowl, any thought of refusing him completely vanished.

He scratched the back of his head, a simple, honest smile spreading across his dark face: "Guangming, you...you're saying that! Fine! Then...then we'll shamelessly accept it! Thank you! Thank you so much!"

He freed one hand and took the heavy, rough porcelain bowl, holding it carefully as if it were a precious treasure.

Aunt Yang breathed a sigh of relief, her face beaming with smiles, and warmly invited her again:
"Guangming, look at you, you're going to such lengths! Come in and sit down for a while! I'm kneading dough right now, and we're steaming buns at home tonight, so you can eat here! It's just a matter of adding an extra pair of chopsticks!"

She pointed to the gleaming square table in the room, on which several rough porcelain bowls and plates were already set out.

Yang Guangming smiled and waved his hand, "No, no, sister-in-law, you're busy. I've already cooked rice and the dishes are ready. Next time, next time for sure!"

He didn't leave immediately, but instead leaned against the door frame and casually chatted with Zhou Dayong: "Brother Zhou, how's the situation with the security department today? Are Section Chief Wang and the others still interrogating them?"

Zhou Dayong carefully handed the bowl of salted duck eggs to Sister Yang, asking her to put it in the cupboard in the inner room. Hearing this, he sighed and shook his head.

"The trial is still ongoing! That kid Kuang Juncai is like a rock in a latrine, both smelly and stubborn!"
The evidence for stealing the cloth was irrefutable, and he couldn't deny it. But when it came to arson, he insisted it was an accident!

He kept repeating the same old story about the aging electrical wires, and kept insisting on seeing his brother-in-law, Factory Director Dou.

Section Chief Wang and his colleagues took turns trying to persuade him, explaining their reasons at length, but he just wouldn't budge.

I saw that Section Chief Wang's face was as black as the bottom of a pot.

He held the child, his brow furrowed.

Yang Guangming nodded. This situation was within his expectations. It wouldn't be easy to get someone as shrewd as Kuang Juncai to confess.

"Section Chief Wang must be under a lot of pressure. Secretary Tian is personally overseeing it, and the case is serious in nature."

However, once the fact that Kuang Juncai stole the cloth is confirmed, his motive for arson becomes clear.

Section Chief Wang is experienced; he'll definitely find a way to get him to talk. At times like this, you guys in the security department need to stay calm and cooperate fully with Section Chief Wang.” Yang Guangming said reassuringly, expressing his trust in Wang Weidong’s abilities.

Zhou Dayong wholeheartedly agreed: "That's right! Wherever Section Chief Wang points, we attack! It's just that seeing that kid stubbornly resisting makes us feel frustrated!"

He patted the child in his arms, and the little boy seemed uncomfortable being patted by his father, pouting.

Looking at Zhou Dayong's straightforward yet somewhat repressed expression, Yang Guangming felt a slight stirring in his heart.

Zhou Dayong is a good person and works hard in the security department, but as he himself said, he is just an ordinary security guard with little opportunity to perform or get promoted.

If we can help him and make him more valued by Wang Weidong, it will be of great benefit to both Zhou Dayong himself and to Yang Guangming's "information network" in the factory.

“Brother Zhou.” Yang Guangming leaned forward slightly, lowered his voice, and said with a hint of sincerity, “Don’t be too anxious or upset. Section Chief Wang is a smart man. He knows who is working diligently and who can step up at crucial moments. The information you provided this time was timely and accurate, which is a merit.”

He observed Zhou Dayong's reaction and, seeing that he was listening attentively, continued, "How about this, when is a suitable day? I'll arrange for Section Chief Wang to come to my house for a chat, have some drinks, and relax. You can join us too! The three of us can chat together."

Zhou Dayong's eyes widened instantly, almost thinking he had misheard. Inviting Section Chief Wang for drinks? And having him accompany him? This… this was something he never dared to dream of!

"Light...light! This...will this work? Section Chief Wang, he..."

Zhou Dayong stammered with excitement, his dark face flushed with elation.

Wang Weidong was an iron-fisted figure in the security department, and although he wasn't particularly strict with the ordinary security guards, he maintained a distance from them.

Being able to sit and drink with the section chief is definitely a great opportunity to build rapport and showcase yourself! Even if you can't get promoted immediately, just becoming a familiar face to him and leaving a good impression would be a huge advantage!

"What's wrong with that?"

Yang Guangming smiled gently, but his tone carried an undeniable certainty: "Section Chief Wang is also a human being. He has so much work pressure, and he needs to relax after work too."

I have a decent relationship with him, so I can afford to treat him to a drink.

You're my neighbor and a key member of the security department. Isn't it normal for us to sit together, chat, and exchange information about the factory? It's more lively with more people around.

His words not only gave Zhou Dayong confidence but also clarified Zhou Dayong's identity, making something that might seem like a deliberate attempt to curry favor sound natural.

“Backbone…” Zhou Dayong murmured, repeating the word, a surge of warmth welling up inside him.

He never considered himself a "backbone" in his daily life.

Yang Guangming's words were like a shot in the arm for him, giving him hope.

"Guangming, I...I really don't know what to say! Thank you! Thank you so much! Don't worry, I will definitely do my best and will never let you down!" He promised excitedly, unconsciously tightening his grip on the child, which made Maotou grunt twice in dissatisfaction.

When Sister Yang came out from the inner room, she happened to hear the second half of the conversation, and her face immediately lit up with a smile.

It's a huge blessing for the family that her husband has been appreciated by the section chief.

Looking at Yang Guangming, her eyes grew even warmer and more grateful. She said repeatedly, "Guangming, you've really helped me a lot! Our Dayong is an honest man, he just knows how to work hard without lifting a finger. It's so kind of you to think of him!"

"No need to thank me, we're all on the same side." Yang Guangming waved his hand and straightened up. "Then it's settled. I'll let you know in advance once I've finalized Section Chief Wang's schedule. You guys get back to work, I'll head back now."

"Okay! Okay!" Zhou Dayong responded repeatedly, carrying the child and seeing Yang Guangming to the door with Xiao Yang's wife, unable to stop smiling.

"Guangming, come visit us anytime! I'll bring you some glutinous rice cakes next time I make them!" Aunt Yang greeted warmly.

"Definitely, definitely." Yang Guangming nodded with a smile, then turned and went back to his room.

Closing the door to room 203 shut out the noise of the corridor. The room became quiet, save for the faint sound of the whistling wind outside the window. The kettle on the stove was boiling, its lid puffing softly. Yang Guangming walked over, picked up the kettle, and poured some hot water into his enamel mug to warm his hands.

He walked into the small kitchen cubicle, looked at the remaining salted duck eggs in the basket, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on his lips.

Six salted duck eggs earned a deeper friendship with a neighbor in the security department; this "investment" was well worth it.

More importantly, he promised Zhou Dayong a "pie in the sky"—the opportunity to drink with Wang Weidong.

For Zhou Dayong, an ordinary security guard with no connections and eager for opportunities, this was undoubtedly very important, like a ray of light illuminating his path.

This light can illuminate Zhou Dayong's path, and perhaps at some point in the future, it can also reflect back onto the path he walked in the sunshine.

(End of this chapter)