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

Chapter 102, Section 101: Full-time Secretary! Administrative Level 27!
A light drizzle had just passed, and the afternoon air was damp, carrying the slightly fishy smell of earth and grass, mixed with the faint smell of machine oil wafting in from the distant workshop through the open window.

Sunlight struggled to penetrate the thin clouds and pierced the damp concrete.

In the office, the only sounds were the rhythmic "tap-tap" of the bamboo needle in Zhang Yuqin's hand and the faint "rustling" of the paper rubbing together as she turned the pages of the documents.

The monotonous sounds intertwined, like an invisible string, taut the stifling air of the office, forming a viscous rhythm day after day.

"Xiao Yang." The voice came from afar.

The door to Han Mingqian's office, painted a dark green, opened silently through a narrow crack.

His calm voice, though not loud, was like a precise scalpel, clearly piercing through the stagnant silence: "Come here for a moment."

Yang Guangming was hunched over his desk checking a thick stack of workshop reports when he heard the sound and looked up.

The afternoon light outlined his young and well-defined profile, with a straight nose and slightly furrowed brows, conveying his focused attention while working.

He put down the slightly worn "Hero" brand fountain pen in his hand, the cool ink still lingering on his fingertips.

Director Han's tone was flat, revealing no specific emotional fluctuations, like a smooth, polished stone.

However, in the secretariat of the factory affairs office, the fact that the director summoned a clerk alone was itself an unusual signal.

A slight ripple quietly spread through Yang Guangming's heart.

He quickly gathered the spread-out reports neatly and weighed them down with a paperweight with smoothed edges. As he stood up, his gaze inadvertently swept over Li Weidong in the corner of the office.

Li Weidong was buried in a pile of complex production data tables. His shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly, then he buried them even deeper, as if he wanted to stuff his entire head into the pile of numbers.

"Director Han." Yang Guangming pushed the door open and entered gently. The door hinges made a slight, dry creaking sound before being gently closed, shutting out the outside world.

Han Mingqian's office maintained his consistent style—neat and tidy to the point of being rigid.

The metal filing cabinet gleamed with a cold, hard metallic sheen, and the large desk was spotless, with documents and stationery arranged like soldiers on inspection, perfectly orderly.

He was sitting in the large wicker chair, gesturing for Yang Guangming to sit in the hard, lacquered wooden chair opposite him.

He picked up the enamel teacup on the table, which had a large red "Award" printed on it and dark brown tea stains around the rim.

He slowly sipped the strong tea, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed softly. The aroma of tea mingled with the scent of aged tobacco, filling the air.

"I'm not here to assign you any specific tasks."

Han Mingqian finally put down his teacup, the bottom of which tapped softly on the table.

He placed his hands on the table, crossed over each other, with the veins on the back of his hands slightly bulging.

His gaze fell on Yang Guangming's face like a searchlight, with a penetrating scrutiny, yet carrying a heavier solemnity than usual.

"This is on behalf of the organization, to have a formal conversation with you."

Yang Guangming's heart skipped a beat, as if a stone had been thrown into a deep pool, and he instantly understood where that unusual premonition pointed.

He sat up straighter, his back lifted off the chair, his hands resting flat on his knees, his fingers slightly curled. His expression was focused and calm as he met Han Mingqian's gaze, like a piece of raw iron ready to be forged.

“Deputy Factory Director Zhao Guodong…” Han Mingqian’s voice was clear and steady, each word like a weight striking the quiet air, carrying an undeniable weight, “After careful consideration and with the approval of the factory committee, I hereby formally nominate you, Comrade Yang Guangming, to serve as his full-time secretary.”

Despite having a premonition, when the appointment was announced so formally and word by word, Yang Guangming still felt a huge warm current surge through his body and straight to the top of his head.

"The organizational procedures are now...relatively simplified."

Han Mingqian's wording carries the caution and sense of propriety unique to this era, as if he is measuring the edge of every word:

"The secretary is part of the staff and has successfully passed the political vetting process. This conversation is mainly to convey the organization's decision to you and clarify the relevant responsibilities and requirements; it's just a formality."

He paused, his gaze lingering on Yang Guangming's face for a few seconds, as if confirming the young man's reaction, before continuing:

"There is one thing you need to be very clear about. After you become Director Zhao's full-time secretary, your work will naturally revolve around Director Zhao."

Han Mingqian emphasized the word "natural".

"But your personnel file and organizational management are still under the jurisdiction of the factory administration office."

His finger tapped lightly on the table.

"In other words, I, Han Mingqian, am still your nominal superior in the factory affairs office. Therefore, I am here to speak with you on behalf of the organization."

“I understand, Director Han,” Yang Guangming replied in a deep voice, his voice not loud, but carrying the weight and determination of a rock.

Han Mingqian nodded slightly, a rare hint of gentle approval appearing on his face, like a crack appearing on a frozen lake.

He opened the drawer on his right with a steady, deliberate movement. The items inside were also neatly arranged.

He took out a thin, blue hardcover notebook with the Red Star factory logo printed on the cover. The edges of the pages were a bit rough, clearly indicating that it was made in-house. He pushed the notebook onto the edge of the table in front of Yang Guangming.

"Take this work manual first. It records some routine work processes and precautions. You can add to it yourself later."

Han Mingqian's voice softened, carrying the patience of a senior instructing a junior, as well as a subtle sense of entrustment, "Since the organization trusts you and has placed you in this important position, there are a few 'constraints' that I need to read to you first."

He extended three fingers with distinct knuckles, each one seemingly brimming with power:

"First, keep your mouth shut."

His gaze suddenly sharpened, like that of a hawk: "Director Zhao's itinerary, conversations, instructions, and even private letters—not a single word of anything that passes through your hands can be leaked!"
This is an ironclad rule, a bottom line!

Remember this: a secretary's mouth is a leader's safe. Don't ask what you shouldn't ask, pretend you didn't hear what you shouldn't hear, and never say what you shouldn't say, even if it kills you! Spitting out a single inappropriate word is a political mistake, and no one can protect you from that!

"Secondly, you need to be active with your legs."

He raised his second finger, his tone leaving no room for doubt, "Do what the leader assigns immediately, do it right away, and report the results promptly after completion."

You need to anticipate what your superiors haven't thought of and prepare thorough contingency plans.

The itinerary should be tightly connected, but also leave room for flexibility; you can't push your leader to the limit.

Document transmission must be timely, accurate, and secure, leaving no room for error.

If a needle falls to the ground, you need to know which corner it will roll to!
With keen eyesight, sharp ears, nimble hands and feet, and meticulous attention to detail!

Third, one's heart must be upright.

Han Mingqian's gaze deepened, as if trying to see through people's hearts. "This position is close to power, and close to information. So many people in the factory, from top to bottom, want to pass you a message, get some inside information, even..."

He paused, his eyes filled with an unmistakable warning. "Give me a little something. Remember, under no circumstances should you stand firm and uphold your principles! Handle official business strictly, and don't let personal feelings interfere."

Don't touch anything you shouldn't take, not even a needle or thread! Don't leave a crack in a door you shouldn't open! Only by being honest and upright can you go far and sleep soundly!

Yang Guangming listened intently, his spine ramrod straight. Every word of Han Mingqian's advice struck his heart like a heavy hammer, leaving a deep imprint.

He nodded solemnly, his voice deep and powerful: "Director Han, I have kept your words in mind. Keep your mouth shut, be diligent, and be upright. These three principles are my work guidelines and my talisman."

"Ah."

Han Mingcheng responded with satisfaction, his tense shoulders seeming to relax slightly. "Director Zhao will personally explain the specific work details to you."

After the conversation ends, go to Director Zhao's office to report for duty and hear what instructions he has.

Remember, be respectful and keep your reports concise. Your leader's time is more valuable than gold.

He glanced at the open desk calendar on the table, its pages printed in red:
"Today is Friday. Hurry up and hand over your work before you leave. Also, pack your personal belongings."

He pointed to the ceiling. "Tomorrow morning," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Move upstairs. The archives room outside Director Zhao's office has been vacated; it will be your office and duty room from now on."

Yang Guangming glanced in the direction of his finger, as if he could see through the thick precast concrete floor slabs to the small space on the third floor that would soon belong to him, closer to the factory's decision-making core.

A subtle mix of excitement and a heavy sense of responsibility welled up inside me.

"There's one more thing." Han Mingqian's tone softened, revealing genuine concern for the young man. "According to the factory's practice, after you become the factory leader's full-time secretary, your administrative rank will be promoted accordingly."

He picked up the pen on the table, wrote a few words on a sticky note, and pushed it in front of Yang Guangming: "Preliminary designation: Administrative Level 27, Level 9 Clerk, monthly salary of thirty yuan."

Thirty yuan!
These three words seemed to carry warmth, instantly soothing Yang Guangming's heart.

That's a full seven yuan more than his current twenty-three yuan!

In an era of extreme scarcity of goods and rationing, what did seven yuan mean?
It means there will be an extra plate of meat on the family's dinner table, Mom's furrowed brows can relax a bit, and Dad might get a less patched piece of clothing.

He seemed to smell the enticing aroma of his mother rendering lard in the cramped kitchen, and a sudden warmth welled up in his heart, a bittersweet feeling rising to his nose.

“Administrative level 27 is just the starting point for a full-time secretary,” Han Mingqian added earnestly, noticing the fleeting glint in his eyes.

He was like an experienced helmsman reminding a new sailor, "This position is both a platform and a crucible. Do well, and it's a ladder to success; mess it up, and it's the guillotine."

As long as you stay put and don't make any major mistakes, your rank and benefits will steadily improve as things progress. Xiao Yang…”

Han Mingqian leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to an even lower level, carrying an almost admonitory and weighty warning tone:

"This is an extremely important opportunity in your life! So many people have racked their brains, dreamed of it, but never got it."

If you seize the opportunity, your future will be limitless; if you lose your footing or make a mistake, you may face utter ruin.

We must be extremely cautious! We must tread carefully! We must give it our all!

Yang Guangming felt the burden on his shoulders suddenly become heavy, so heavy that he almost had to hold his breath.

But the unwavering sense of certainty that his long-awaited goal had finally been achieved gave him boundless strength, like a rock.

He stood up abruptly, straightened his back, and bowed deeply to Han Mingqian like a soldier being inspected, his forehead almost touching the table.
"Director Han, thank you for your trust and guidance! I will remember this trust and this responsibility deeply! I will do my best, proceed with extreme caution, and never slacken in the slightest! I will never let down the organization and the leaders! I will never disgrace you!"

"Okay!" Han Mingcheng also stood up, a rare, warm, and gratified smile on his face.

He walked around the table to Yang Guangming, patted the young man's broad shoulder forcefully, the force carrying trust and expectation, "Go, go to Director Zhao. Remember my words, remember every single one of them."

……

The deputy factory director's office is on the third floor of the factory building, on the east side, at the end of the corridor.

Compared to Han Mingqian's director's office, this place is more spacious and brighter. The heavy, dark brown wooden door is tightly closed, with a rectangular wooden plaque with white background and black characters hanging on it.

Yang Guangming stood outside the door and took a deep breath.

The air still seemed to retain the dampness of the light rain, mixed with the building's distinctive smell of lime and old wood.

He subconsciously straightened the collar of his slightly faded but exceptionally neatly ironed white "Dacron" shirt, and carefully smoothed out a barely visible wrinkle on the cuff.

Then, he raised his right hand and tapped the smooth wooden door three times with his knuckles, neither too hard nor too soft.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

The sound was exceptionally clear in the quiet corridor.

"Please come in." Zhao Guodong's steady, slightly northern-accented Mandarin came from inside the door, clear and strong.

Yang Guangming gently pushed open the door.

The afternoon sun was shining brightly, generously filling most of the room through the tall, spotless glass windows.

Zhao Guodong was hunched over his large desk reviewing documents, the sunlight outlining his broad and sturdy shoulders and back, his upright military bearing still evident.

He was wearing a dark blue short-sleeved shirt, with the collar buttoned up meticulously.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up.

He had a square face, thick eyebrows, and sharp, eagle-like eyes with the scrutinizing gaze characteristic of a soldier, yet at this moment there was also a hint of gentleness between his brows.

"Director Zhao." Yang Guangming stopped about a meter away from the desk, feet together, bowed slightly, and greeted him in clear, standard Mandarin, trying to filter out the Shanghainese accent at the end.

"Comrade Xiaoyang, you're here." Zhao Guodong's face showed a gentle smile, like a spring breeze melting the ice.

He pointed to the chair opposite him, covered with a dark green corduroy fabric, and said, "Sit down, don't be shy."

Yang Guangming sat down as instructed, his back straight, his hands naturally placed on his knees, his posture respectful yet not restrained, striving to show the composure befitting his new identity.

"Director Han has already spoken with you?" Zhao Guodong picked up the enamel teacup on the table, which also had a large red "Award" printed on it, blew on the floating tea leaves, and a small chip on the rim of the cup was clearly visible.

"Yes, Director Zhao. Director Han has conveyed the organization's decision to me and given detailed instructions on work responsibilities and disciplinary requirements," Yang Guangming replied concisely.

"Yes, Lao Han is reliable in his work. His advice is very important. You should keep it in mind and refer to it at all times."

Zhao Guodong put down his teacup, his gaze falling on Yang Guangming's young yet composed face, a look of scrutiny mixed with a hint of satisfaction after careful consideration.

"The decision to transfer you to my side was made after careful consideration and investigation by the organization."

Zhao Guodong's tone was calm yet forceful, each word sounding as if it had been carefully crafted: "Although you haven't been with the factory for long, your abilities, comprehension, and especially your composure have been evident to both Director Han and me."

In particular, his writing skills and efficiency are outstanding among the young people in the factory affairs office.

He picked up a document from the table and waved it around: "Look, that speech you wrote at the last technology innovation exchange meeting, right? It was very well written!"

The presentation was clear and the data was solid. It not only explained the key technical points but also highlighted the hard work and collective wisdom of the workers at Hongxing Factory. The presentation was well-balanced.

When the comrades from the Municipal Bureau of Industry came down to conduct research, they specifically mentioned that the materials were well-written and practical.

"Thank you for your recognition, Director Zhao! It's mainly because the factory's technological innovation work is solid and the experienced workers in the workshop have made great contributions. I'm just truthfully compiling and reporting, recording everyone's achievements."

Yang Guangming responded modestly, but his heart warmed slightly at the recognition from his boss.

“It’s good to be realistic.” Zhao Guodong nodded, then changed the subject, “However, the work of a full-time secretary is very different in nature and requirements from running errands and writing documents in the secretariat. You need to complete the role transition as soon as possible and elevate yourself from the level of ‘clerk’ to ‘assistant’.”

He held up two fingers, their knuckles thick and strong:

"First, we need to broaden our horizons."

We cannot just focus on the specific task at hand and be content with simply relaying information up and down the chain of command.

It is essential to stay informed about the plant's production dynamics, technical challenges, personnel matters, and even the activities of other units and the latest directives from higher authorities.

You need to have a strategic plan in mind and a clear understanding of the situation.

I need you to be able to provide valuable background information and insightful opinions whenever I need them, instead of being clueless when asked.

"Secondly, we need to have a higher perspective."

Zhao Guodong's gaze deepened, as if guiding Yang Guangming to look further into the distance.

"When dealing with problems and coordinating relationships, we must think and weigh things from my perspective as the deputy factory director."

While adhering to principles and safeguarding the factory's interests and regulations, it is also important to be strategic and flexible, knowing when to be roundabout and adaptable. When dealing with superiors, instructions must be accurately understood, clearly communicated, and resolutely implemented; when dealing with subordinates, it is essential to be adept at communication and coordination, resolving conflicts, and ensuring that work is carried out effectively.

The sense of proportion in this is crucial and needs to be gradually understood and mastered through practice.

He paused, his tone suddenly becoming more forceful, and his eyes sharpening considerably:
"Especially remember the confidentiality rules! Every word that leaves here is the final destination, the safe, for you!"
We absolutely cannot allow it to spread any further from here!

Whether it's meeting content, document approvals, or private conversations, it's all the same!
This is a high-voltage line, do not touch it!
Remember? "

"Yes, Director Zhao! I deeply understand the importance of confidentiality and will strictly abide by discipline and keep my mouth shut!" Yang Guangming straightened his back and spoke with a firm and resolute voice.

"Ah."

A gentle smile returned to Zhao Guodong's face, and the atmosphere in the room eased. "I believe you can do well."

It's good that young people are energetic and have ideas, but they also need to be patient and take steady steps.

If you encounter anything you're unsure about, consult with Director Han; he's a veteran factory manager with extensive experience.
You can come directly to me without any hesitation. Don't be afraid of making mistakes, but learn from them promptly and avoid repeating the same mistake twice.

Making mistakes requires paying the price; this principle applies equally in the military and in civilian life.

He glanced at the desk calendar on the table, which was filled with schedules:

"We'll move in tomorrow, get familiar with the environment, and look at the materials. We'll arrange the specific work in detail later."

Are there any practical difficulties? Whether they're related to life or work, feel free to mention them.

"No problem, Director Zhao! I will definitely familiarize myself with the work as soon as possible, get into the role, and do my best to fulfill my duties!" Yang Guangming stood up, his tone firm and powerful.

"it is good."

Zhao Guodong also stood up and stretched out his right hand towards Yang Guangming across the large desk covered with a dark green woolen tablecloth.

That hand was broad and strong, with obvious calluses on the fingertips and the base of the thumb, marks left by long-term gun handling and manual labor.

Yang Guangming quickly stepped forward, bowed slightly, and grasped Zhao Guodong's hands with both of his.

A heavy, almost tangible sense of trust and responsibility was clearly conveyed through those strong, rough hands, instantly filling his chest.

"Thank you for your trust, Director Zhao! I will definitely work hard, perform my duties diligently, and serve you and the factory well!" Yang Guangming's clear and powerful voice echoed in the quiet office.

Zhao Guodong nodded in satisfaction and released his hand: "Go ahead."

With Zhao Guodong's encouragement and a heavy sense of responsibility, Yang Guangming walked steadily back to the second floor where the secretariat was located.

His leather shoes echoed clearly and rhythmically on the polished terrazzo floor. His emotions, like those footsteps, were both grounded and carried a subtle, almost imperceptible, excitement.

As soon as I reached the office door, I heard Zhang Yuqin's voice, deliberately lowered but still filled with excitement, like popping beans:

"...Absolutely true! I heard it with my own ears from Xiao Liu in the personnel department! The documents have all been issued! Director Zhao signed them himself! They've been sent to Director Han!"

Xiao Yang! Yang Guangming! You've been promoted to be Director Zhao's personal secretary! Right upstairs! Moving tomorrow!

Oh my, this is really something!

When I first saw Xiao Yang, I knew he was just like Ivor. And now, in such a short time, he's been promoted! Unbelievable, unbelievable!

The air in the office seemed to freeze for a moment, and even the faint rumble of machines in the workshop outside the window seemed to stop.

Zhou Bingsheng, wearing reading glasses, was looking down at a copy of the Liberation Daily when he heard the sound, and his hand, which was turning the pages of the newspaper, suddenly stopped in mid-air.

Behind his thick reading glasses, his usually calm and even somewhat aloof eyes suddenly burst forth with an extremely bright and complex light.

Surprise, relief, and a sense of relief, along with a profound sense of satisfaction that almost felt like "I am not alone in my path" and "there are successors."

He subconsciously pushed up his glasses that had slipped off his nose, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but curve upwards into a clear arc, as if a piece of solid ice that had been dormant in a corner for too long had finally melted quietly in the sunlight, revealing its warm undertones.

He nodded slightly, as if speaking to himself, or perhaps responding to Zhang Yuqin's boisterous announcement, his voice low yet warm:

Good...good. Young man, you have potential.

He picked up the enamel mug on the table, wanting to take a sip of water, but found it was empty, so he silently put it down.

Zhang Yuqin, on the other hand, had a beaming smile on her face, as if she herself had been promoted and given a raise.

She put down the half-finished maroon sweater she was knitting, casually stuck the bamboo needles into the yarn, and clapped her hands together forcefully, making a crisp sound.
"Oh my! I knew it! This young man, Xiao Yang, is clearly destined for greatness! He's quick-witted and steady in his work! And when he writes reports, he's got a whole repertoire of them!"

Director Zhao has a great eye! Our secretariat has produced a talented person!

From now on, when we gossip, we can hold our heads high!

Her voice was quick and crisp, like popping beans, filled with heartfelt joy and a sense of pride. Her gaze swept eagerly over Zhou Bingsheng and Li Weidong in the corner, as if seeking resonance and sharing this sudden "collective honor."

Only Li Weidong.

He was originally bent over his desk, meticulously copying a production progress report with his hand, his neat handwriting almost rigid.

The hand holding the pen clenched tightly the moment he heard Zhang Yuqin's first words!
The pen tip swished across the paper, leaving a long, glaring ink mark that nearly pierced the thin sheet. The ink quickly spread into a large, dark blue stain.

An extremely complex emotion surged up his mind instantly—

Jealousy is like a venomous snake suddenly biting your heart, sharp and bitter, with a burning pain.

It was a sense of loss, as if the last bit of hope that supported him had been completely extinguished by this news, and he instantly fell into a cold and piercing abyss.
But then, a strange sense of relief and liberation welled up from the depths of my heart.

That little-known, failed, and shady frame-up, that ever-present stain on his record, had long been like an invisible shackle, destined him to be completely ineligible for this position.

Now that the die is cast, the guillotine that had been hanging over his head for who knows when it would fall finally came crashing down, causing his nerves, which had been stretched too tight for so long and were almost about to break, to suddenly relax.

Although this relaxation was accompanied by a profound emptiness and an indescribable bitterness.

He took a deep breath, the sound of which seemed particularly heavy in the suddenly quiet office.

He forced himself to loosen his grip on the cheap pen, his knuckles turning pale from the excessive force.

He slowly and with great difficulty raised his head, his neck stiff as if it were rusty.

His facial muscles twitched involuntarily, as he tried to force a congratulatory "smile".

However, that smile was incredibly stiff, the muscles contorted, the corners of the mouth as if forcibly pulled up by invisible lines, ten times uglier than crying. Deep in the eyes was an undisguised dimness, emptiness, and a trace of dishevelment that hadn't yet faded.

He opened his mouth, but his throat felt like it was blocked by rough sandpaper, so dry that he couldn't make a sound.

He cleared his throat forcefully, then squeezed out a few dry words in a deliberately high-pitched, yet clearly trembling and weak tone: "Con...congratulations!"

The voice was hollow and devoid of warmth, like scraps of paper floating in the air.

Just then, Yang Guangming pushed open the door and walked in, his figure appearing in the light at the doorway.

In an instant, the atmosphere in the office became extremely subtle, as if the air itself had solidified into glue.

Zhang Yuqin was the first to react. Like a nimble swallow, she darted to Yang Guangming in a few steps, her face beaming with an undisguised, enthusiastic smile. Her voice, loud and clear, instantly broke the awkward silence:

"Oh my! Our chief secretary is back! Congratulations, Xiao Yang!"
Look, we were just talking about it! You're really great! You've brought great honor to our secretariat! Working alongside Director Zhao, you'll have a bright future ahead of you!

Tsk tsk tsk, thirty yuan a month! Remember to look after us old colleagues when you become successful!

She spoke half-jokingly and half-seriously, and affectionately patted Yang Guangming's arm with a bit of an older sister's strength, as if to share in the joy.

Zhou Bingsheng also put down the newspaper and slowly stood up.

Unlike Zhang Yuqin, he didn't rush forward enthusiastically. Instead, he stood a few steps away, looking at Yang Guangming with a gentle and gratified smile on his face, a smile unique to an elder.

That smile came from the bottom of his heart, and the fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes resembled blooming chrysanthemums, carrying heavy expectations and silent blessings.

He nodded solemnly towards the bright sunlight, saying nothing more, everything understood without words. His gaze seemed to transcend time, saying, "Kid, I've paved a path for you; the rest is up to you. Don't let me down."

Li Weidong also stood up. The "smile" on his face remained stiff, and his movements appeared somewhat slow and clumsy, like a puppet with rusty joints.

He moved step by step toward Yang Guangming, stretched out his right hand, which was slightly pale, with red marks on his knuckles from the force he had just exerted.

His voice, though strained to remain steady, was like a taut string: "Secretary Yang... congratulations on your promotion."

He avoided the sunlight and focused his gaze on the other person's second button, where the outstretched hand trembled slightly.

Yang Guangming took in the reactions of the three people and understood what was going on.

He wore a humble and appropriate smile, neither ostentatious nor overly modest.

He first nodded to the enthusiastic Zhang Yuqin: "Sister Zhang, you always have the best information. Thank you for your kind words."

We've always come from the secretariat; our roots are here.

I'll need to ask Sister Zhang for advice more often when I encounter difficulties at work in the future.

His tone was sincere, and he gave me plenty of face.

Then he turned to Zhou Bingsheng, his expression becoming even more respectful, filled with heartfelt gratitude, and bowed slightly:
“Master Zhou, thank you for your guidance and care all this time. Without your hands-on instruction and those ‘treasure books’ you lent me, I wouldn’t be where I am today.”

He spoke from the bottom of his heart, his gaze open and honest as he met Zhou Bingsheng's gentle eyes behind his glasses.

Finally, he looked at Li Weidong's outstretched, slightly trembling hand.

Without any hesitation, Yang Guangming calmly extended his right hand and firmly grasped Li Weidong's cold and slightly sweaty palm.

He could clearly feel the momentary stiffness in the other person's hand muscles and the slight force of their attempt to retreat.

"Brother Li, thank you." Yang Guangming's tone was calm and sincere, without any hint of anything amiss. "In the future, I may need Brother Li's help with data checks and spreadsheet comparisons at work. Our future work will depend on everyone's support."

"It should, it should."

Li Weidong quickly withdrew his hand as if he had been burned, saying repeatedly, his eyes flickering as he glanced at the ink bottle on the table next to him, "Help each other, help each other. You...you're busy."

His voice was dry, with a hint of urgency as he tried to end the conversation.

Yang Guangming didn't say anything more, nor did he seem to care about Li Weidong's embarrassment.

He walked to his spot against the wall and sat down.

The old wooden table that had been with him for more than twenty days and nights since he started working there had its corners worn smooth and rounded, and the red paint on the edges had long since peeled off, revealing the natural color of the wood.

He began to organize his belongings methodically, his movements calm and unhurried.

A faded military satchel with worn edges revealing the canvas underneath; several work notebooks filled with dense notes, their edges curled up, and their covers bearing different dates; a Hero brand fountain pen with a worn cap, saturated with blue-black ink; and several documents that had been processed and needed to be archived.

There weren't many things; they were all traces of work and study, and I quickly organized them.

He pulled open the bottom drawer of the table, where lay quietly the heavy notebook that Zhou Bingsheng had secretly given him, carefully wrapped in old newspapers.

He carefully took it out, brushed away non-existent dust, unwrapped the newspaper, revealing the dark blue hard cover. He opened the title page, where Zhou Bingsheng had written a powerful and vigorous inscription.

He gazed at it for a moment, then solemnly placed the notebook into the innermost compartment of his satchel. This was no ordinary notebook; it was his "secret weapon," a vital reliance and guiding light on his path to the future.

After tidying up, Yang Guangming stood up and looked around the familiar large office.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting long shadows on the concrete floor. The distant roar of machinery seemed to have returned to its rhythm, faintly audible.

This place records his initial struggles and growth, and even though the time was short, it was enough to leave an important mark on his life.

"Master Zhou, Sister Zhang, Brother Li."

Yang Guangming's voice was clear and calm, carrying a sense of farewell as he prepared to leave: "Director Han instructed that the work at hand be handed over clearly today."

I have several raw data sheets here that were just submitted by the workshop.

He picked up a stack of forms. "They've been preliminarily checked and need to be copied onto the quarterly summary sheet. I'll trouble you with this part, Brother Li." He handed the forms to Li Weidong.

Li Weidong silently took it, gave a soft "hmm," and kept his eyes on the form without looking up.

"There's also a preliminary draft of the arrangements for a factory-wide safety inspection next week." Yang Guangming picked up another document. "Director Han said that you should take a look at it first, Sister Zhang, and give your opinions based on your understanding of the union's situation, and see if there are any oversights in the process."

"Alright! Leave it to me!" Zhang Yuqin readily agreed, taking the documents with her smile unchanged. "Don't worry, go and prepare for the move tomorrow! We'll make sure this little thing is handled perfectly!"

"In addition," Yang Guangming turned to Zhou Bingsheng, picked up a hardcover notebook, "this is the draft statistics and analysis of the factory's publicity materials used in the first half of the year that Director Han requested. I've just put together a framework, and the data isn't fully filled in yet. I might need you, Master Zhou, to review it and see if the approach is correct."

Zhou Bingsheng took the notebook, flipped through it, looked at the neat handwriting and clear entries, nodded, and spoke with a tone of ease and trust after entrusting it to someone:
"Don't worry, the framework is quite clear. We'll verify and fill in the data. You can go to your new position with peace of mind; we'll handle everything here."

Yang Guangming was very efficient. Before the end-of-get off work bell rang sharply, he had clearly handed over all the work that needed to be handed over, and all the documents and items were returned to their rightful owners.

The ringing bell echoed in the empty corridor, announcing the end of the workday.

"Master Zhou, Sister Zhang, Brother Li, I'm leaving now."

Yang Guangming slung his faded military satchel over his shoulder and said goodbye to his three colleagues one by one.

His gaze swept over Zhou Bingsheng's gratified face and Zhang Yuqin's warm smile, finally lingering for a moment on Li Weidong's still-lowered head.

"Xiaoyang, do you need help moving things tomorrow?" Zhang Yuqin asked kindly.

"Thank you, Sister Zhang. It's not much; I can manage on my own," Yang Guangming said with a smile, politely declining.

He took one last look at the corner that bore the marks of his initial struggles—the old wooden table, the creaking chair—then turned and walked steadily out of the secretariat office.

In the corridor, the flow of people leaving get off work began to surge, and the sounds of footsteps, laughter, and greetings blended together.

Sunlight followed the flow of people toward the stairwell.

The golden rays of the setting sun shone through the tall windows, casting long shadows down the long corridor.

He walked down the stairs step by step, his footsteps echoing in the empty stairwell.

The sharp edges of the hardcover notebook in his satchel, through the thin canvas, pressed against his waist, bringing a strange, heavy sense of security.

Tomorrow will be a brand new beginning.

Upstairs, closer to the core of power, awaited him unprecedented opportunities, but also challenges as fraught with peril.

Han Mingqian's "three requirements" and Zhao Guodong's instructions were like invisible rulers hanging over their heads.

But what he felt most strongly was determination, a drive that had been suppressed for so long and was finally being released.

He gripped the strap of his satchel tightly and turned to look up at the stairs—the stairway to the future.

(End of this chapter)