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

Chapter 158, Section 157: Document Issued. Neighbors' Joy and Sorrow. Conflict Erupts.
In early winter in Shanghai, the afternoon sun, carrying a faint warmth, pierced through the glass windows of the factory building and slanted across the slightly worn desk in front of the bright sunlight.

The hands of the wall clock moved slowly toward three in the afternoon, two and a half hours before the end of the workday.

The office was quiet, with only the scratching sound of pens slicing across paper.

The office door was gently pushed open, and Xiao Li from the Party Committee Office peeked in, holding a document that still smelled of fresh ink.

"Secretary Yang, these are just printed. Distribute them to all departments." He put down the documents and hurried away, his steps still hurried, stirring up a slight breeze.

Yang Guangming put down his pen and his gaze fell on the red-headed document on the corner of the table.

The bright red heading read "Party Committee of Hongxing State-owned Cotton Mill," and below it, in bold black lettering, was the title: "Notice Regarding the Adjustment of Comrade Yang Guangming's Position and Rank."

The document content is concise and powerful:
After deliberation, the Party Committee of Hongxing State-owned Cotton Mill decided:
Comrade Yang Guangming was appointed as a Level 6 clerk in the Factory Affairs Office, Level 24 in administration.

This appointment is effective from the date of issuance.

Party Committee of Hongxing State-owned Cotton Mill
December 6, 1969

His fingertips unconsciously traced the cool paper surface, feeling the paper's unique texture and the slightly raised ink.

Although Deputy Factory Director Zhao Guodong—who should now be called Deputy Secretary Zhao—had personally informed me two days ago and repeatedly emphasized the confidentiality rules, seeing this official document stamped with the bright red seal now brought a truly heavy feeling, like a warm stone falling into a lake of my heart.

Level 6 clerk, Level 24 administrative clerk, monthly salary of 43 yuan.

This three-stage leap saves others from needing two or three years of experience, and each step crosses an invisible threshold.

He picked up the enamel mug on the table, took a sip of lukewarm water, and suppressed the turmoil in his heart.

He put down the jar, picked up the documents, and walked steadily out of his small office, knocking on the wooden door of the inner room.

"Come in," came Zhao Guodong's steady voice from inside.

Zhao Guodong was reviewing documents at his desk when he saw Yang Guangming and the documents in his hand. A knowing smile appeared on his face, carrying a calm and composed air of having everything settled.

"The documents have arrived?" He took off his glasses and rubbed his temples.

"Yes, Secretary Zhao." Yang Guangming gently placed the document on the smooth table in front of Zhao Guodong.

Zhao Guodong picked up the document, glanced at it quickly, nodded, and then looked back at Yang Guangming's face with expectation and deeper admonition: "Good. Work hard, there's a long road ahead. Remember what I said before: keep a low profile, be cautious, the taller the tree, the more the wind will blow against it."

“I understand, Secretary. Don’t worry,” Yang Guangming replied solemnly, his voice clear.

"Okay, go ahead." Zhao Guodong waved his hand and buried himself in his documents again.

This official document concerning Yang Guangming, within the Hongxing State-owned Cotton Mill, which employed thousands of workers, was like a small pebble thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples that had a limited reach.

Most people are busy making a living every day, worrying about daily necessities and work points, and have neither the time nor the inclination to pay much attention to the rank adjustment of a young clerk in the factory building.

These days, who doesn't have their share of difficulties? Being able to get paid on time and have a stable meal is the greatest hope.

However, to those who knew Yang Guangming, especially those who were aware of the details of the warehouse theft and arson that shocked the entire factory a few days ago, this thin document carried a completely different weight, pressing heavily on their hearts.

Those in the know understand that Yang Guangming was the key figure in uncovering Kuang Juncai and solving the entire case.

The case had a huge impact, and even the leaders in DL City personally intervened. The factory rewarded this meritorious person, which was expected by everyone.

Early formal membership in the Party? That's perfectly reasonable.

A promotion by one level beyond the usual procedure? That would be reasonable.

But his administrative rank jumped three levels in a row, from level 27 to level 24, becoming a level 6 clerk? This was completely beyond everyone's expectations.

That's a huge promotion!
It was big enough to make many people wonder, and it also sparked more envy and discussion.

The news spread like wildfire among the relevant people on a somewhat languid Saturday afternoon.

Surprise, envy, curiosity, and speculation quietly spread in the whispers as people brushed past each other in the office corridor and in the hushed conversations during breaks in the workshop corners.

"Have you heard? That Yang Xiaoming from the factory office, he got promoted three times in a row!"

"Really? Level 24? Wow, that's incredible!"

"He made a great contribution! He was credited with solving the arson case! I heard that Secretary Zhao fought against all opposition to get it for him!"

"Tsk tsk, this is truly a case of a carp leaping over the dragon gate... Forty-three yuan, that's equivalent to a master chef."

"Who can disagree? He's so young, he has a bright future ahead of him."

In the weaving workshop, Zhang Xiuying was personally experiencing the most direct "heat wave" brought about by this impact.

She worked almost non-stop all afternoon.

Familiar coworkers, casual acquaintances, and even the usually stern workshop team leader all found a chance to approach her, their faces beaming with smiles ten times warmer than usual.

"Xiuying, congratulations! Your Guangming has made a name for himself! He's been promoted three ranks in a row, that's incredible! It's truly a blessing from your ancestors!"

"Aunt Zhang, Brother Guangming is amazing! He'll be a high-ranking official soon! You can just relax and enjoy your retirement!"

"Sister Xiuying, you're even luckier than before! Your son is so successful, that's better than anything else! We can only envy him so much!"

"That's great, your family's life will be much more comfortable now!"

Zhang Xiuying's smile never faded. At first, it was surprise and disbelief, then a huge sense of pride and satisfaction gushed out like hot spring water, and finally she was a little dizzy from the overwhelming wave of compliments.

She responded repeatedly with "thank you," "thanks to everyone," and "the child has done well on his own," her voice hoarse with excitement.

She saw genuine envy in those familiar and even unfamiliar eyes, which made her feel straighter than ever before, and even the monotonous hum of the looms in the workshop sounded pleasant.

Although she had seen the official document circulating in the workshop office that afternoon, with its black ink on white paper, a bright red seal, and her son's name and new rank clearly written on it, Zhang Xiuying still felt like she was walking on cotton, a little unreal.

Three promotions in a row?

She had lived most of her life and worked in the factory for almost twenty years. She had heard about it, but never imagined it would happen to her own son!

This is just like a story told in a traditional storytelling performance.

She subconsciously touched the pocket of her work clothes, inside which was a document copy sheet that the workshop director had specifically asked her to take a look at. The three words "Yang Guangming" on it seemed particularly weighty at that moment.

The alarm bell rang sharply, piercing the noise of the workshop.

Zhang Xiuying was almost the first person to put down her work and rush out of the workshop.

She pushed her well-maintained Forever brand bicycle, with a faded canvas bag hanging from the handlebars, and walked briskly towards the factory gate, her heart already with her son.

She needed to see her son as soon as possible and hear him speak in person before the uneasy feeling in her heart could truly settle down.

A huge crowd surged at the factory gate, their blue-gray work clothes forming a sea of ​​people, while bicycle bells jingled.

Zhang Xiuying stood on tiptoe, craning her neck, her eyes anxiously searching for that familiar figure among the throng of people. The flow of people leaving get off work was like a floodgate opening, and she was afraid of missing it.

"Guangming! Guangming!" She saw her son walking out of the gate amidst the crowd, waved and called out loudly, pushing her bicycle and hurrying to meet him.

Yang Guangming saw his mother and quickened his pace to walk over. "Mom, why are you waiting here? It's so cold." He noticed that his mother's nose and ears were a little red from the cold, and the wind in the early winter evening was chilly.

“Mom isn’t cold, my heart is warm!” Zhang Xiuying grabbed her son’s arm and asked anxiously, her voice low but unable to hide her eagerness, “The document really came down? Level 24? Level 6 clerk? It’s really…43 yuan a month?”

Her eyes were fixed on her son, as if she wanted to confirm the miracle again from every subtle expression on his face.

"Yes, Mom, really." Yang Guangming replied with a calm smile, speaking softly to make sure the person next to him couldn't hear. "The document was officially issued this afternoon. I'm now at administrative level 24, a level 6 clerk, and my salary will be paid according to the new standard next month." He clearly stated his level and salary to reassure his mother.

He paused, then explained with a hint of apology, "Secretary Zhao specifically instructed that the document must be kept absolutely confidential before it is officially issued, and not a single word should be revealed. So I didn't dare tell you in advance, for fear that you wouldn't be able to resist telling others and breaking the rules." He knew his mother's personality and knew that she couldn't keep such a big happy event a secret.

Zhang Xiuying slapped her son's arm hard and scolded him, "Silly child! Do you think your mother is such an unreasonable person? Director Zhao... is now Deputy Secretary Zhao. He's giving you advice for your own good! He's protecting you! Such a great thing should only be discussed after it's all settled! How could your mother blame you? Your mother is... is just too happy!"

Her eyes were slightly red, and her voice was full of pride and a sense of satisfaction from finally getting through it all. "This afternoon, my ears have been ringing off the hook with congratulations! Everyone is so envious! They all say that our Guangming is really capable!"

Overjoyed, Zhang Xiuying immediately made a decision: "Such a happy occasion must be celebrated! Come on, Mom will go to the grocery store now! We'll buy lots of good food, and we'll have a good meal together tonight! Your dad and your brother will be so happy!" She said, getting on her bicycle.

"Mom, you go to the grocery store first. I'm going back to the tenement building to pick up some things. I just managed to get some things sorted out by someone recently, so I'll take them back with me." He patted the faded canvas satchel he always carried.

Zhang Xiuying knew that since her son moved to the dormitory building assigned by the factory, he had become more shrewd and often brought home some rare "gifts".

She assumed it was because her son worked at the factory, had many connections and acquaintances. She felt only happiness and reassurance, never delving into the matter, and also instructed her family not to ask too many questions. These days, who doesn't have some unspeakable connections? Being able to get good things to make life a little easier for the family is considered a skill.

"Okay! Then hurry back! Be careful on the road! Mom has bought the groceries and is waiting for you at the alley entrance!"

Without saying another word, she nimbly hopped on her bicycle, the empty net bag hanging from the handlebars swaying, and rode briskly towards the grocery store, her back view radiating a cheerful energy.

Yang Guangming watched his mother disappear into the traffic, then turned and joined the flow of people leaving get off work, walking towards the red brick tenement building on the edge of the factory area.

He walked steadily, but in his mind he was calculating the family's inventory.

Now he has his own private space, which is extremely convenient for him. He no longer has to worry about revealing secrets to his parents and family, and the things taken out of the refrigerator have a safe place to be stored.

During this time, he made good use of this "private space" to save up various supplies and carefully improve the family's meals.

Back in the tenement building, Yang Guangming closed the door. He walked to the partitioned-off small kitchen area, squatted down, and rummaged through the rice bins and flour bags in the corner, quickly getting a sense of what was available. He selected a few items and skillfully began to pack them.

The supplies he packed included: twenty shiny, uniformly sized salted duck eggs, carefully wrapped in old newspapers;

A heavy cloth bag, containing about five pounds of rice supplied by the grain store, exuding the aroma of rice;

A paper package contained four pounds of cut Jinhua ham, with snow-white fat embedded between the deep red lean meat, and the edges were neatly cut.

A glossy, dark red drunken chicken exudes an enticing aroma of wine and spices;
Two sturdy kraft paper bags, one containing two pounds of brown sugar and the other two containing two pounds of white sugar, were tightly sealed.

A dark glass bottle containing clear peanut oil, its opening sealed with a cork.

His refrigerator contained a small amount of rice, flour, and oil, which he had prepared specifically for his parents from his previous life, taking advantage of his "position."

But in those days, the rice and flour in the refrigerator were something he could only use secretly; they were absolutely not suitable to be given away.

The small 2-pound bag of white flour in the corner of the refrigerator was fine wheat flour, as white as snow, and so fine that it had no bran at all. It was so different from the standard flour supplied by the grain store, which was slightly yellow and had bran specks. It couldn't be exposed to light at all.

There are also three types of rice in the refrigerator, all in 2.5 kg bags: long and thin Thai fragrant rice, deep red Yutian Rouge Rice, and glistening Wuchang Rice.

These three types of rice, even the relatively common Wuchang rice, have been carefully selected, with not a single broken grain found, and have a rich aroma.

The other two types of rice, whether in terms of their unique appearance or special aroma, are worlds apart from ordinary rice of this era.

He could only enjoy these things secretly in private, and then he would save up the grain and exchange it for ordinary rice that was in line with the characteristics of the times, and take it home.

Since moving to the tenement building, he never goes back to the Shikumen area empty-handed. He always brings something with him, sometimes a few kilograms of rice, sometimes a bottle of oil, sometimes a piece of meat or a few salted duck eggs.

Now his family is used to it, knows he "has a way," and no longer asks for the reason with surprise as they did at the beginning. If anyone asks, the unanimous answer is "good stuff I got from a friend," and everyone understands the unspoken truth.

He skillfully and carefully placed the drunken chicken, ham chunks, and salted duck eggs into the faded military satchel with worn edges revealing the canvas underneath, which hung heavily at his side.

Other items—rice bags, sugar bags, oil bottles—were stuffed into a sturdy, finely meshed green net bag.

The mesh bag and shoulder bag instantly became bulging, their heavy weight digging into my fingers, conveying a sense of abundance and solidity.

After getting ready, Yang Guangming picked up the tight mesh bag, slung his bulging satchel over his shoulder, locked the door, and set off on his way back to the Shikumen.

As soon as I turned into the familiar alleyway, I saw my mother, Zhang Xiuying, riding her bicycle back.

The cloth bag hanging on the handlebars was now bulging, clearly filled with "spoils" from the grocery store:
A few stalks of bright green celery peek out, a solid, snow-white piece of tofu is visible in the oil paper bag, a small piece of pork belly with alternating layers of fat and lean meat is wrapped in oil paper, and there is also a fresh and tender cabbage with tender, juicy leaves.

“Guangming! Perfect timing to go home together!” Zhang Xiuying’s face lit up with a happy smile when she saw her son. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the heavy net bag and bulging shoulder bag in his hands. “Wow, you have a lot of stuff!” She pushed the cart and took a few quick steps.

The two walked side by side into the familiar courtyard.

This is the busiest and most vibrant time in the Shikumen neighborhood.

Beside the sink, Mrs. Feng was washing a bunch of greens, the water splashing and tiny droplets flying. In the corner, on a rattan chair, Grandma Chen was wrapped in a thick cotton-padded coat, her eyes half-closed, seemingly asleep. From the kitchen stoves, the crackling of coal stoves and the crisp sound of spatulas clattering filled the air, the smell of cooking oil mingling with the aroma of food.

A young couple whom Yang Guangming didn't recognize were coming down the narrow, steep, creaking wooden stairs. The man was carrying an old aluminum pot, and the woman was carrying a bamboo rice washing basket. When they saw Yang Guangming and his mother come in, they smiled somewhat awkwardly as a greeting, their eyes filled with the unfamiliarity and curiosity of new residents.

Zhang Xiuying bought so many vegetables that her bicycle handlebars were completely full, which naturally attracted the attention of her neighbors.

Li Guihua had just come out of her kitchen to pour water when she immediately noticed the cloth bag on Zhang Xiuying's handlebars and the heavy net bag in Yang Guangming's hand. Her eyes lit up and her voice rose: "Mom, you bought so many good vegetables, is there a happy occasion at home?" She was also carrying a dripping wooden bucket.

The shout, neither too loud nor too soft, drew the attention of everyone else in the courtyard. Mrs. Feng, who was washing vegetables, looked up, Granny Chen opened her eyes, and even the noise from the stove seemed to quiet down.

Zhang Xiuying was in a great mood at the moment, and was just worried about where to share this great joy.

She parked her bicycle, straightened her back, and with an irrepressible smile of pride on her face, said in a loud voice, "Of course there's great news! Our Guangming..."

She pulled her son over, showing him off like a precious treasure, “The factory just issued an official document! My administrative rank has been promoted three levels! Now I’m a level six clerk, and administrative level twenty-four! My salary will increase to forty-three yuan next month! We have to celebrate this properly!” She emphasized “promotion three levels” and “forty-three yuan” very clearly.

"Promoted three ranks in a row?" Li Guihua exclaimed in surprise, forgetting to put down the wooden bucket in her hand.

"Level 24? Forty-three yuan?" Granny Chen also stood up shakily, leaning on the rattan chair. Her cloudy old eyes were full of surprise. "Oh my, Mingming, amazing! Truly amazing! Another great talent has emerged from our Shikumen! Xiuying, you are so lucky!" Her tone was full of emotion.

Mrs. Feng stopped washing the vegetables, wiped the water droplets off her faded blue apron, and smiled sincerely, though a hint of weariness lingered in her smile, and dark circles were clearly visible under her eyes: "Guangming, congratulations. You deserve it."

Her voice was gentle, carrying sincerity and a calm acceptance of the world.

To Yang Guangming's surprise, there were He Caiyun and Zhao Tiemin in the three-story pavilion.

Hearing the noise, the two men also came over from the kitchen shed.

He Caiyun was wearing a brand-new navy blue coat, her hair was combed slicked back, and her face seemed to have been coated with face cream, making her look exceptionally fair.

Zhao Tiemin was dressed in a crisp khaki work uniform, with a brand-new white shirt collar peeking out from under his jacket, and his canvas shoes were spotless.

The two of them had a completely new look, a stark contrast to their previous repressed, calculating, and even somewhat mean demeanor.

"Brother Guangming, congratulations!" He Caiyun's face was beaming with a warm smile, her voice loud and clear, with hardly any trace of her usual sour tone. "A promotion of three ranks! This is an incredible thing!" She gave a thumbs-up with exaggerated gesture, exuding a triumphant air.

Zhao Tiemin stood beside his wife, a smile on his dark face. Although he was still somewhat dull, his eyes were full of genuine congratulations, even with a hint of pride. He straightened his back considerably: "Guangming, well done! Congratulations!" His voice was also louder than usual, with much more confidence.

Yang Guangming was surprised, but maintained a humble and polite smile as he thanked everyone one by one: "Thank you, Granny Chen, thank you, Mrs. Feng, thank you, Sister-in-law He, thank you, Brother Zhao. It's all thanks to the organization's training and the leaders' trust. I just did what I was supposed to do." His gaze casually swept over everyone.

He noticed that when Mrs. Feng glanced in the direction of Mr. and Mrs. He Caiyun, a fleeting hint of coldness and barely perceptible disgust crossed her eyes before she regained her composure and lowered her head to continue washing her vegetables.

While offering enthusiastic compliments, He Caiyun subtly pursed her lips and raised her chin slightly when she met Mrs. Feng's gaze, conveying a sense of superiority.

The conflict between these two longtime neighbors seems to have come to light.

Yang Guangming hasn't been to Shikumen recently, so he doesn't know what's been going on between the two families lately.

The unfamiliar couple must be the young couple who recently moved into the balcony; today is the first time Yang Guangming has seen them.

The young couple timidly stepped forward; the man's surname was Zhou and the woman's surname was Wu. They whispered, "Congratulations, Comrade Yang." Yang Guangming smiled and nodded in response.

Amidst the envy and congratulations of the crowd, Zhang Xiuying was content and radiant.

She lifted the heavy cloth bag from the handlebars and gestured for her son to carry the net bag: "Thank you everyone! Congratulations! Guangming, Guihua, come on, let's go upstairs! We'll have a good feast tonight!" She called to her daughter-in-law, Li Guihua, who had just come out of the kitchen.

Surrounded by her eldest daughter-in-law Li Guihua and son Yang Guangming, Zhang Xiuying walked briskly and with a radiant face up the stairs, the wooden staircase creaking merrily.

Yang Yongkang and Yang Guanghui, who were at home, had already heard the commotion downstairs.

When Yang Guangming stepped into the familiar room in the front building, he was greeted by his father's rarely relaxed brow and his elder brother's honest and joyful smile. His little nephew, Zhuangzhuang, squirmed in Yang Guanghui's arms, watching the adults with curiosity.

"Father, brother." Yang Guangming put down the net bag and satchel that were painfully tight in his hands.

Yang Yongkang sat in his usual spot—the well-worn wicker chair by the window—a hand-rolled cigarette swirl in his hand, smoke curling upwards.

He gave his youngest son a deep look. On his stern, weathered face, the corners of his mouth twitched slightly, revealing a faint but genuine smile. His voice was low and full of approval: "Good. Well done."

He took a drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled, "I haven't brought shame to the organization, nor to my family."

This was the highest praise this taciturn and honest father could give, each word carrying immense weight.

Yang Guanghui put Zhuangzhuang down, strode over, and patted his younger brother's shoulder hard, so hard that Yang Guangming was momentarily stunned. His honest face was full of joy and excitement.
"Mingming, you're amazing! You've been promoted three ranks in one go! Now our family can truly hold its head high! Let's see who dares to look down on us now!"

His voice was so loud that it made the paper windows buzz.

"Quick, quick, take everything out and let me see!" Zhang Xiuying couldn't wait to start "inspecting" the spoils of war.

She first took out the vegetables she had bought one by one and placed them on the clean old wooden table: emerald green and straight celery, tender and snow-white tofu, beautifully textured pork belly with alternating layers of fat and lean meat, and cabbage so fresh it looked like it could be squeezed for water.

"Look, everything Mom bought is super fresh! We waited in line for quite a while!" Then, she carefully untied the net bag and shoulder bag that Yang Guangming had brought.

When the glistening drunken chicken, the tempting red and white marbling of Jinhua ham, the snow-white sugar, the deep red brown sugar, the clear peanut oil, the heavy bag of rice, and the large bag of shiny salted duck eggs were all presented on the small old wooden table, a chorus of exclamations rippled through the room.

"Oh my! Drunken chicken! It smells so good! And the color is perfect!" Zhang Xiuying picked up the drunken chicken and brought it closer to smell it.

"Jinhua ham! This is a real gem! I never expected to see it again!" Li Guihua carefully picked up a piece of ham, admiring its beautiful marbling.

"White sugar, brown sugar! And peanut oil! Guangming, you're really resourceful!" Yang Guanghui looked at the rare oil bottle and sugar bag.

"So many salted duck eggs! Every single one is great! Look at the color, they must be thoroughly pickled!" Zhang Xiuying picked up a salted duck egg and examined it against the light.

Even Yang Yongkang, who is usually calm and doesn't easily show his emotions, showed surprise and genuine satisfaction when he looked at the dazzling array of supplies on the table, which far exceeded his usual level.

This table full of delicious food is not only a tangible symbol of improved living standards, but also the most direct reward for a successful son.

While his mother and sister-in-law were tidying up and preparing food, Yang Guangming finally asked the question that had been bothering him:

"Mom, I think Sister He and Brother Zhao seem different from before. They're full of energy."

And Mrs. Feng, she doesn't look too well? Are the young couple on the balcony new residents?

He asked as he helped pour the rice into the rice container.

Mentioning this, Li Guihua immediately perked up. She loved telling these kinds of neighborhood "news," and while deftly picking celery, she began to describe it vividly:
"Oh my, you've been so busy with factory work lately, you haven't known anything about what's going on at home, have you? You've changed so much!"

She lowered her voice, with a hint of excitement at sharing a secret:

"The young couple on the balcony, the man's surname is Zhou and the woman's surname is Wu, they moved in only four or five days ago."

I heard they were workers from two small collective factories located below the street. The man seemed to work at some hardware factory, and the woman worked at a cloth shoe factory in the street.

We've been married for about half a year. We went through a lot of connections to finally get this small house, converted from a rooftop terrace. We just moved in, and being unfamiliar with the area, I'm not very talkative and a little shy around people.

"As for Mrs. Feng and He Caiyun..." Li Guihua pouted, her tone tinged with resentment, "They've fallen out! Completely broken up! They won't even speak to each other when they meet!"

"Why? Even though we weren't particularly close before, it shouldn't have come to this, right?" Yang Guangming asked, while putting the salted duck eggs into the earthenware jar one by one.

"It's all because He Caiyun is shaking now!"

Li Guihua's voice was filled with obvious disdain, "Her older brother from her maternal family used to be unremarkable, just running a sales and distribution business in a small factory in the neighborhood. Who knows what connections he used, but he was suddenly transferred to the municipal committee, and I heard he's even a minor leader! In charge of some things!"

This is incredible! He Caiyun and her husband have all benefited immensely! Guess what?

She paused deliberately, "He Caiyun went directly from a temporary worker at the Dongfang Machinery Factory to a permanent employee in logistics! She works in an office!"
Zhao Tiemin was even more impressive; he was transferred directly from the dirty and tiring work of the loading and unloading team to the factory's security department!
Now I'm a security guard in uniform!

"Did you see their new clothes today? They look so smug! They're practically walking on air!"

Yang Guangming suddenly realized why the two people looked so different; their repression and resentment had been replaced by a triumphant sense of triumph.

"Teacher Feng's family is in a terrible situation."

Li Guihua sighed, her voice filled with genuine sympathy, "Teacher Feng was cleaning at school a few days ago—"

Oh, by the way, everyone just found out about this. Mr. Feng hasn't been teaching for a while; he's been transferred to the logistics department to do cleaning for some time now. He and his wife are very concerned about their image, so they kept it a secret.

While cleaning, I accidentally fell off a slightly wobbly wooden ladder and broke my leg! I'm in a cast and lying at home now.

When everyone found out, they all bought some things to visit him.

He Caiyun went too, and she brought quite a lot of things—a bag of apples and a tub of malted milk powder!

"Then why did they break up?" Yang Guangming asked.

"The problem lies with He Caiyun's mouth!"

Li Guihua imitated He Caiyun's affected tone, "She probably thinks she's different now, that she's a relative of an official who 'has connections in the city,' and the way she talks, tsk tsk, it doesn't feel right to listen to her, as if it's some kind of charity."

They said things like, "Teacher Feng, you're really unlucky. You gave up being a good teacher to sweep the floor," and "Now that you've fallen like this, sweeping will be difficult from now on." They added, "But don't worry, let me talk to my older brother and see if he can put in a good word for you. Once your leg heals, we can let you go back to teaching..."

Oh my, you didn't see it! Mrs. Feng's face immediately turned pale! Who doesn't know she's the most strong-willed person?

Teacher Feng was already in pain after breaking her leg, and then He Caiyun treated her with such 'pity' and 'charity,' implying that she looked down on cleaning.

Mrs. Feng replied curtly, something like, "Don't bother, Old Feng has dedicated his life to teaching and nurturing students, he's lived up to his conscience. Cleaning is his contribution to the school, there's nothing shameful about it."

"This has really stirred up a hornet's nest!"

Li Guihua slapped her thigh, her voice rising a little, "He Caiyun immediately turned hostile, pointing at Teacher Feng and cursing her for 'not knowing what's good for her,' 'not being grateful,' and 'serving to sweep the floor for the rest of her life'!"
The words were awful! They practically spit on Mrs. Feng's face!

Mrs. Feng was so angry that she trembled all over, her lips turned white from biting them. Without saying a word, she grabbed the apples and malted milk powder that He Caiyun had brought, shoved them back into He Caiyun's arms, and pushed her out the door!

The door slammed shut with a deafening roar!

From then on, the two families became complete enemies and stopped talking to each other.

Mrs. Feng was both angry and exhausted, and she also had to take care of Mr. Feng who was lying down. How could she look well? It broke my heart to see her like that.

After Li Guihua finished speaking, she shook her head and continued picking vegetables.

After listening, Zhang Xiuying put the sliced ​​meat into the bowl, shook her head, and spoke in a critical tone:
"That He Caiyun, she's a petty person who's gotten ahead! She thinks she's someone special just because she has some connections. Mrs. Feng is such a good person, so knowledgeable and reasonable, and she treated her like this! She deserved to be kicked out! Who cares about those things!"

Her tone was indignant.

Yang Guangming listened silently, his heart filled with mixed emotions.

These subtle changes in the alleyway clearly reflect the ups and downs of individual destinies under the tide of the times.

The changing dynamics of neighborly relations unfold silently every day within this small shikumen (stone-gate) community.

The conversation quickly returned to the celebration that evening.

Looking at the table full of ingredients, Zhang Xiuying and Li Guihua quickly finalized the menu:
Drunken Chicken Cold Dish – Ready-made, cut into pieces and arranged on a plate;
Steamed tofu with ham – Slice the ham and place it on top of the tofu before steaming;

Vegetarian chicken cold dish—I still have some left at home;
Baked pumpkin with salted egg yolk – made with salted duck egg yolks that I brought with me;
Stir-fried pork belly with celery - the celery is fresh and crisp;
Stir-fried cabbage – refreshing and helps cut through the richness;
A pot of white rice—made with freshly harvested, high-quality rice.

The mother-in-law and daughter-in-law immediately got busy in the cramped kitchen.

The coal stove was stoked until it was blazing, flames licking the bottom of the pot. Pots and pans clattered, hot oil sizzled as it hit the pan, and the cleaver tapped rhythmically on the cutting board, all mingling with the rich aroma of drunken chicken, the salty savory flavor of ham, and the fresh scent of celery…

An enticing, complex aroma began to permeate the air, wafting from the kitchen and filling the small courtyard.

Yang Guangming helped his father and older brother move the old wooden table to the center of the room and set out the bowls and chopsticks.

Zhuangzhuang babbled excitedly in his father's arms, pointing his little finger in the direction from which the aroma was coming, drool dripping from his mouth.

Yang Yongkang, unusually, was playing with his grandson, and his face relaxed considerably.

When all the dishes were served on the old wooden table with its peeling paint, under the dim light, a family feast with a flavor quite different from the previous celebrations was presented:

The deep yellow, glossy drunken chicken pieces, with crispy skin and tender meat, are neatly arranged on a plate, carrying a rich aroma of wine and spices.

Thin slices of Jinhua ham, as thin as cicada wings and alternating red and white, are laid on the white tofu, giving it a savory and fragrant aroma and steaming hot.
Golden pumpkin chunks coated with crumbly salted egg yolk have a unique and enticing aroma;
The sliced ​​vegetarian chicken was arranged neatly.

Bright green celery is stir-fried with glistening, fragrant slices of pork belly;
The vibrant green cabbage is crisp and refreshing, glistening with oil;

The white rice grains are glistening and plump, piled up in the bowl like small mounds.

It lacks the extravagance of lavish feasts, but exudes the care and attention to detail in its careful pairing and the abundant feeling brought about by the improved quality of the ingredients themselves.

The addition of "high-end" items such as salted duck eggs, ham, and drunken chicken significantly elevated the meal's quality, making it more befitting the family of a young cadre who had just received a major promotion, and also reflecting Yang Guangming's current importance within the family.

Looking at the table full of dishes, especially the steamed tofu with ham and the drunken chicken, Yang Yongkang's eyes revealed a rare sense of satisfaction.

He silently picked up the bottle of bulk liquor on the table and poured himself a small half-glass.

The family sat down together, the dim light casting their shadows on the wall.

Yang Yongkang picked up his wine glass, his gaze slowly sweeping over the excited and joyful faces of his family members, finally settling on his youngest son's calm and composed face.

He didn't say much, but simply raised his glass slightly towards the bright sunlight, his voice deep and powerful, as if striking the heart: "Guangming, do a good job."

"Cheers!" Zhang Xiuying, Yang Guanghui, and Li Guihua responded in unison, joy radiating from everyone's faces. Even Zhuangzhuang waved his little hands and shouted "Ah ah!"

Several cups of different sizes and materials gently tapped together, producing sounds that were either crisp or dull.

Under the dim light, the steam from the food mingled with the aroma of wine, the rich fragrance of drunken chicken, and the salty savory flavor of ham...

The small front building was filled with a warm and comforting atmosphere, keeping the chill of the early winter night firmly outside.

(End of this chapter)