Disabled Childhood Sweetheart: A Humble Puppy Begs for the Young Lady's Pity

Before the Mid-Autumn Festival, Wen Zhiting sat in the office of the director of Hongxing Machinery Factory, where cigarette butts were piled up like a small mountain on the table.

Deputy Factory Director Sun Zhiping knocked on the door and entered. Wen Zhiting asked, "Have all the wages been paid?"

"They've been paid out," Sun Zhiping nodded. "Everyone's complaining that their wages and benefits are decreasing month by month."

Wen Zhiting stubbed out his cigarette, his eyes filled with worry: "Let's all hang in there a little longer, there will be a way."

A little while later, he picked up his briefcase, took the prepared documents, and drove to the Municipal Light Industry Bureau.

"Section Chief Li, our factory is a long-established heavy industrial plant. Please help us with the loan approval... There are thousands of employees in the factory, and their families all depend on this job." Wen Zhiting hunched over, his hand holding the cigarette frozen in mid-air.

Section Chief Li held a glass teacup, took a leisurely sip, and spat the tea leaves back into the cup.

"Okay, leave the stuff here, we'll take a look. But this isn't that simple, you know, there are procedures to follow."

Wen Zhiting nodded repeatedly, "Yes, yes, I understand."

He turned around and glanced cautiously at the doorway, then took out two packs of Zhonghua cigarettes from his bag: "Please take care of things."

Section Chief Li opened the drawer, and the two packs of Zhonghua cigarettes slid into it. He stood up, smiling broadly as he saw Wen Zhiting to the door: "This matter isn't that complicated. Go back and wait for news."

Wen Zhiting walked out of the Municipal Light Industry Bureau and looked up at the blue sky.

He had only one belief in his heart: the Red Star Machinery Factory must not go bankrupt.

He started as an apprentice in a factory when he was young, and gradually rose from an inconspicuous technician with no background to where he is today.

This factory is the culmination of his many years of hard work, his honor and medal, and the guarantee for the survival of thousands of families.

Sparse clouds hung in the sky, and a lone goose spun gracefully, flapping its wings as it flew past.

In the evening, Wen Zhiting returned home drunk. Xiang Qin fetched water for him, washed his face, wiped his face, gently brushed the hair from his forehead with her fingers, and lovingly kissed his brow.

Wenxi stood at the doorway and asked softly, "Is Dad alright?"

"It's nothing, she just drank too much." Xiang Qin walked to the door and ruffled her hair. "Go do your homework quickly, and get some rest after you're done."

Wenxi had just left when Zhou Jingchen knocked on the door. Xiang Qin opened it and saw him holding a bowl of soup in his right hand: "Aunt Xiang, I made some hangover soup. Please let Uncle drink some so he won't have a headache tomorrow."

Xiang Qin patted his hair and smiled with satisfaction, "Okay, I'll give it to him later."

-

Christmas snowflakes, carried by the cold wind, pattered against the windowpane.

As soon as the school bell rang, Wenxi grabbed Zhou Jingchen's schoolbag strap and ran out of the school. The two children didn't go straight home after school, but went to the factory together.

That day was Grandpa Zhou's birthday, and both of them had gifts in their schoolbags.

The two ran through the snow to the back gate of the factory, the metal door rattling in the wind. As soon as they pushed open the small door leading to the boiler room, a wave of scalding heat, mixed with the smell of coal smoke, instantly enveloped them.

"Grandpa!" Wenxi was wearing a cotton-padded coat, a thick knitted hat, and a red scarf, looking like a little snowman.

Grandpa Zhou was bending over as he added coal to the furnace. The iron shovel collided with the furnace wall with a "clang," and sparks jumped out of the furnace opening, making his wrinkled face glow red.

Hearing the shout, he sat up abruptly, wiped his coal-dust-covered hands on his apron, and his eyes lit up: "What are you two little brats doing here?"

"I'm here to play with you." Wenxi grinned, her eyes sparkling.

Grandpa Zhou strode over, his rough hands grabbing their wrists and pressing them down onto the wooden stools by the stove. "Sit down and warm up. The snow is so heavy outside, you must be freezing!"

The wooden stool was warm from the fire, and as soon as Wenxi sat down, she couldn't help but swing her legs, and the snow on her cotton shoes quickly melted into small water droplets.

"Grandpa, today is..." Zhou Jingchen was about to tell the truth when Wenxi suddenly kicked his foot, and he immediately shut his mouth.

Wenxi said, "Grandpa, today is Christmas!"

Grandpa Zhou turned around, picked up a burlap sack from the corner, buried two round sweet potatoes in the pile of ash he had just dug out, and then grabbed a handful of chestnuts and threw them in, his movements very practiced: "What Christmas? You don't understand, you little kids love to celebrate these foreign holidays."

He used a shovel to gather up the ash and cover the sweet potatoes and chestnuts. "Back then, all we knew was to eat dumplings on the Winter Solstice and put up Spring Festival couplets for the New Year. We didn't know about all this fancy stuff."

The boiler room was so hot it was almost unbearable. Wenxi took off her hat and scarf and draped them over the back of her chair: "Christmas is like the New Year in other countries, where adults give gifts to children."

After she finished speaking, she held out both hands, palms up, facing Grandpa Zhou: "So, where's Grandpa's gift?"

The old man looked at her outstretched little hand, his eyes darting around. He secretly dabbed in some coal ash and quickly drew two marks on each of her cheeks: "Alright, this is my gift to you."

Zhou Jingchen chuckled to himself, and the old man took the opportunity to smear two black marks on his face.

The two people, who looked like tabby cats, looked at each other, unable to contain their secrets, and burst out laughing at the same time.

Wenxi decided to stop pretending and pointed at Master Zhou, saying, "You old rascal! It's your birthday today, and I even prepared a gift for you. How dare you play this trick on us!"

Birthday? Grandpa Zhou never celebrates his own birthday and doesn't really remember it. The few times he does celebrate it, it's at the Wen family's house, where Xiang Qin and Wen Zhiting buy him a cake.

Wenxi unzipped his backpack, took out a pair of knee pads, and handed them to him: "Grandpa, you should wear knee pads when you ride your bike from now on to protect your knees."

Zhou Jingchen also brought out his gift: "Grandpa, wearing gloves while riding a bike will keep your hands warm."

The old man chuckled and "accepted" the two gifts.

The three sat beside the huge boiler, their faces flushed red from the heat. Soon, the sweet aroma of sweet potatoes wafted from the coal ash pile.

Grandpa Zhou used a small shovel to shovel away the coal ash, tossing the sweet potatoes back and forth between his hands. Once they were cool enough to handle, he handed them to Wenxi and Zhou Jingchen: "Eat up."

Laughter and cheerful voices could be heard from time to time in the boiler room, which was neither too big nor too small.

Grandpa Zhou's thoughts suddenly drifted back to many years ago, when Wenxi and Zhou Jingchen were just six or seven-year-old children. The two of them were sitting in this boiler room eating sweet potatoes. After Wenxi finished hers, she would try to snatch Zhou Jingchen's.

He had no choice but to bake a few more, so she could take them home for Xiang Qin and Wen Zhiting.

Once, Wenxi threw sweet potato peels everywhere and, with her little feet up, asked, "Grandpa Zhou, why don't you get married?"

Grandpa Zhou's cloudy eyes deepened: "I missed out on a girl; I wanted to marry her but couldn't."

"Why?" Wenxi hugged the soft sweet potato and took a big bite, her lips turning yellow.

"Because I'm a boiler operator, and she's a rich girl. A boiler operator can't marry a rich girl."

Wenxi didn't understand and asked, "Why can't a boiler operator marry a young lady?"

Grandpa Zhou smiled kindly and gently stroked her nose. "Because of this and that, it's a scientific principle."

Wenxi, who was intently eating sweet potatoes, whispered to Zhou Jingchen, "Why can't a boiler operator marry a rich girl?"

Zhou Jingchen raised his head blankly: "I don't know either." His small cane leaned against his leg.

Taking advantage of his inattention, Wenxi bent down and took a bite of his sweet potato. "Why is yours so sweet?" She snatched it from him and handed him hers, saying, "Let's switch."

The boy, his eyes drooping, said, "Okay."

That night, little Zhou Jingchen lay next to Grandpa Zhou and asked him again why the boiler operator couldn't marry the young lady.

After a long silence, Grandpa Zhou's slow, hoarse voice echoed in the air: "Because the boiler operator is not worthy of the young lady."