Chapter 130 - 94: Shang Zhongyong
Mid-July.
The weather in Zeyang City was muggy and hot, without a breath of wind.
Three in the afternoon.
Inside the Third Workshop of the First Mechanical Factory, the roar of machinery was deafening.
Chen Jianguo was dressed in his blue factory uniform, a towel draped around his neck.
He was bent over, using a large adjustable wrench to tighten a nut on the base of a lathe.
"Jianguo!"
The workshop director’s booming voice carried from behind, cutting through the roar of the machines.
Chen Jianguo straightened up and wiped the sweat from his face with the towel from his neck.
He turned around.
The workshop director strode over, a wide smile on his face.
Trailing behind the director was the factory director.
The factory director rarely visited the workshops, but not only had he come today, he also brought several deputy directors and the union chairman with him.
They moved like a grand procession.
The workers at the surrounding machines instinctively stopped what they were doing to watch.
Chen Jianguo froze for a moment.
He put down his wrench.
He vigorously wiped the grease from his hands on the leg of his work uniform.
"Director, Workshop Director," Chen Jianguo said as he walked over to greet them.
The factory director stepped forward.
Ignoring the grease on Chen Jianguo, he reached out with both hands and firmly grasped Chen Jianguo’s.
He shook it up and down a couple of times.
"Jianguo."
The factory director’s voice was loud, brimming with unconcealable joy.
"You’ve really brought honor to our First Mechanical Factory!"
Chen Jianguo was a bit bewildered by the whole scene.
"Director, this... I haven’t finished fixing the machine yet..."
"Forget about the machine!" the factory director said with a wave of his hand.
The union chairman beside him stepped forward.
From a briefcase tucked under his arm, he pulled out a newspaper.
The Zeyang Daily.
Today’s front-page headline.
The newspaper was handed to Chen Jianguo.
The factory director pointed at the large, bold characters on it.
"Look!"
"Top National Scorer in Two Subjects! Huake University’s Junior Class!"
"Chen Zhuo!"
The factory director clapped Chen Jianguo on the shoulder with considerable force.
"This is your son, isn’t it?"
Chen Jianguo glanced at the name on the newspaper.
He nodded.
"Yes."
The workshop instantly erupted in an uproar.
The coworkers who had been listening in all gasped in astonishment.
Number one in the nation.
Huake University.
To these workers, who spent their days dealing with lumps of iron, these words seemed impossibly distant.
As if they had fallen from the sky.
The factory director pulled a red envelope from his pocket.
It was quite thick, and he stuffed it directly into the pocket of Chen Jianguo’s jacket.
"This is a bonus from the factory."
The factory director looked at him.
"In all the years since this factory was founded, we’ve never had the child of an employee accomplish something so incredible."
"You’ve cultivated a talent for the country and brought glory to our factory."
Chen Jianguo tried to take the envelope out.
"Director, I can’t. I can’t take this money..."
"Take it!"
The factory director pressed his hand down.
"This isn’t just money. It’s an honor."
The factory director glanced at the lathe behind him.
He turned to the workshop director and said,
"Give Jianguo the rest of the afternoon off."
"He should go home and be with his son. An occasion this joyous deserves a proper celebration."
Before he could object, the workshop director was already pushing him toward the locker room to change.
Still in a daze, Chen Jianguo pushed his old rod-brake bicycle out of the factory gates.
Four in the afternoon.
The sun was still beating down from overhead.
Chen Jianguo pedaled his bicycle all the way back to the Sunshine Family Courtyard.
The moment he entered the gates of the Sunshine Family Courtyard, he felt that the atmosphere was off.
Usually at this time, there would be a few off-duty idlers playing chess under the large tree.
When they saw him return, they would at most offer a simple greeting, like "Off work, Old Chen?"
But today...
The moment Chen Jianguo rode his bike in, the men under the tree stood up, abandoning their chess game.
They stared at him in unison.
Their eyes held an indescribable glimmer.
"Old Chen is back!"
Uncle Li, who lived in the front building, shouted, drawing out the last word.
That one shout made several women who were washing clothes in the first-floor courtyard look up.
"Old Chen, look at you!"
Uncle Li ambled over, a cattail-leaf fan still in his hand.
"So unassuming all the time, and now your son is in the papers!"
"My grandson, who just started high school, brought the paper home at noon. I put on my reading glasses and read it three times!"
"Number one in the whole country!"
Uncle Li gave him a thumbs-up, nearly poking him in the face.
A few of the women from nearby also gathered around.
They were still holding clothes that hadn’t been wrung dry.
"Engineer Chen, when are you throwing a celebration feast for Chen Zhuo before he leaves for Huizhou?"
"A golden phoenix has really flown from our Sunshine Family Courtyard."
"That kid always seems so quiet. Who knew he was so brilliant?"
Everyone started talking at once.
Some of them were smiling even more happily than Chen Jianguo.
The eyes of others held clear envy.
Even a few neighbors who rarely ever spoke to him stood at a distance, staring intently at Chen Jianguo.
Surrounded in the middle, Chen Jianguo felt as if the air had grown thin.
He could only nod repeatedly.
"Thank you, thank you, everyone."
"It’s too hot right now. We’ll see about the feast later."
He pushed his bicycle, finally managing to squeeze his way out of the crowd.
He walked quickly to the entrance of his own apartment building.
He parked the bike and locked it.
Chen Jianguo bounded up the stairs to the fourth floor, taking them two at a time.
He took out his key and opened the door.
In the living room, a standing fan was set to its second speed, oscillating back and forth.
The television was on, playing an episode of Water Margin.
Wu Song was fighting the tiger on Jingyang Ridge.
Chen Zhuo was wearing a loose tank top, a pair of baggy shorts, and slippers.
He was sprawled gracelessly on the old sofa.
In his hand, he held a mung bean popsicle.