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

Chapter 40. Glory
Zhang Xiuying pulled her son's arm, looking him up and down as if she couldn't get enough of him, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes smoothing out. "Come on, Mom will treat you to dinner to celebrate! Our staff canteen has some pretty good food today!"

The mother and son walked side by side toward the staff canteen.

On the way, Zhang Xiuying's tone carried a hint of emotion and an almost imperceptible, overflowing pride:

“Mingming, you are eating with your mother in the staff canteen today. After your grain ration is transferred and you get a meal card for the cadre canteen, you will have to go to the cadre canteen to get your meals.”

She paused, her voice lower, yet carrying an even greater weight of pride, "My daughter and I just can't eat together anymore."

The meaning behind those words was crystal clear: there was an invisible threshold that the son had already crossed.

The staff canteen was bustling with noise, a mixture of the strong aroma of food, the smell of sweat, and the steaming heat unique to the canteen's large stove.

Long queues snaked and writhed in front of several food serving windows, the clatter of aluminum lunchboxes and enamel bowls echoing throughout.

Zhang Xiuying and her son skillfully lined up at a window with a shorter queue, avoiding several workers who rushed to cut in line.

"You sit and wait, Mom will go get the food!" Without saying a word, Zhang Xiuying pressed Yang Guangming onto an empty, long wooden bench worn smooth by countless people, and then, like a nimble fish, squeezed into the noisy queue.

Sunlight shone brightly as he looked around.

The cafeteria was large, with several dusty incandescent bulbs hanging under the high ceiling, casting a dim and murky light.

The walls, stained a dark yellow by years of cooking fumes, bear a striking red banner that reads, "Saving is glorious, wasting is shameful."

The workers, mostly dressed in dark-colored work clothes stained with oil or lint, carried various aluminum lunch boxes and enamel bowls. They squatted in corners, stood in aisles, or crowded around long, oil-stained tables, talking and laughing loudly. The noisy sounds rolled in the heat, creating a lively and jubilant atmosphere.

A moment later, Zhang Xiuying returned carrying two overflowing aluminum lunchboxes, her face beaming with an almost extravagant joy. She carefully placed one of them into her son's hand.
"Here, eat up! Mom made two meat dishes today! One is braised pork, and the other is minced meat stir-fried with pickled vegetables! Plus a stir-fried vegetable dish!"

"We've never had such a lavish feast at home, even during the Lunar New Year!"

She pointed to the glistening, trembling, and temptingly browned braised pork in her son's lunchbox, as well as the mountain of oily minced meat and pickled vegetables, her words filled with satisfaction, as if she were displaying priceless treasures.

Looking at the truly lavish "feast" in the lunchbox, far exceeding the usual standard, and then at his mother's faded work clothes with worn cuffs and deep, weathered wrinkles around her eyes, Yang Guangming felt a slight sting in his nose and a tightness in his throat.

He knew that this meal embodied his mother's joy today and her heavy expectations for his future.

"Mom, this is too much. You should eat more too." Yang Guangming picked up the biggest and fattest piece of braised pork and tried to put it in his mother's lunchbox.

"No, no!" Zhang Xiuying quickly covered the lid of her lunchbox with her hand, scolding her in a firm tone, "You eat! You're young, working takes a lot of brainpower and energy, eat more meat to nourish yourself! Your mother is old and can't eat too much oily food."

As she spoke, she carefully picked out the tiny bits of meat from the pile of pickled vegetables, ate them with rice, and ate them with relish and satisfaction, as if that little bit of oil was the ultimate delicacy.

Just then, a cheerful and familiar voice came from the next table: "Xiuying! Your son is really handsome! Such a good-looking man! You are so lucky!"

Yang Guangming looked up and saw that it was Wang, whom he had seen at the factory gate that morning. She was sitting with several female workers who were also wearing work clothes, holding a lunchbox.

Even more coincidentally, Sister Zhang Yuqin, who didn't go to the cadre canteen, was also at the next table, smiling and looking over here. She had clearly become the "best promoter" of Yang Guangming's joining story.

Zhang Yuqin put down her chopsticks and addressed the female workers at her table and the next table, her voice neither too loud nor too soft, but with the enthusiasm of sharing exclusive news, just loud enough for those around her to hear: "Let me tell you, Sister Xiuying's son is amazing! Today is his first day reporting for duty, and our Director Han personally helped him with the formalities, his attitude was so good!"

The young man is energetic, polite, and reliable!
Look at him, all dressed so smartly, and that watch on his wrist, so shiny! Wow, he really has the air of a high-ranking official! Our secretariat team has gained a valuable asset!

As she spoke, she gestured with her chin toward the sunlight.

After her embellishment, the eyes of the surrounding tables were drawn to her as if by a magnet.

The female workers looked at Yang Guangming's tall and upright figure, his brand-new clothes, the shiny watch on his wrist and the factory badge on his chest, and then at Zhang Xiuying's face, which was filled with undisguised pride. Their eyes were filled with undisguised envy and admiration, and a buzz of discussion arose.

"Oh my, Xiuying, you've finally made it through! All your hardships have finally paid off!"

"This kid is definitely going to amount to something! Handsome, strong, and a real catch!"

"You're on a cadre position, your future is bright, Xiuying, you can just wait to enjoy your retirement!"

A chorus of heartfelt praises, warm and enthusiastic, enveloped Zhang Xiuying like a gentle tide.

Her smile was like a blooming chrysanthemum, every wrinkle smoothing out, radiating pure happiness and pride.

While waving her hand and responding modestly with a smiling tone, "Not at all," "It still depends on the organization's training," and "The little boy must live up to expectations," she kept putting braised pork and minced meat and pickled vegetables into her son's lunchbox.

It was as if they wanted to use this real oil and water to deeply fill their son's body with this enormous, hard-won glory, supporting him toward a brighter future.

Yang Guangming ate his meal quietly amidst the gazes and discussions of the crowd.

He could deeply feel his mother's heartfelt, almost overflowing joy, and he also clearly understood what this "glory" represented—the upward social mobility—meant in this era.

He knew all too well that this was just the beginning.

He looked up, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over the other end of the canteen—there was a relatively quiet little door with a sign that read "Cadre Canteen".

The dark blue curtain hung down, and occasionally a corner was lifted by people coming in and out, making the light inside seem brighter and cleaner.

That door, that dark blue curtain, will be the place he will go after tomorrow.

At this moment, sitting beside his mother on a long, smooth wooden bench, he could hear the simple and sincere envy of his coworkers, and taste the braised pork that his mother had "luxuriously" bought for him.

Feeling the warmth from her rough hands, this sense of pride belonging to the staff canteen, imbued with the warmth of everyday life and human touch, felt exceptionally real and comforting, settling deeply in my heart.

He picked up a piece of braised pork with a good balance of fat and lean meat and placed it steadily into his mother's bowl: "Mom, you should eat too. The pork is cooked really well, don't give it all to me."

Looking at the glistening piece of meat in the bowl, and then at her son's concerned eyes, Zhang Xiuying's eyes instantly welled up with tears. She nodded vigorously, her voice trembling slightly.

"Hey! Mom, eat! Mom, eat!" She picked up the piece of meat, slowly and carefully put it into her mouth, chewing it carefully, as if she were savoring all the hope and glory that her son had brought her.

(End of this chapter)