Civil Engineering in the Mortal World: Ten Years Without Knowing Today's Events

It was already 1 a.m. when the concrete was poured.

When I finished filling out the last construction record form, signed it, tore it off, and put it in my pocket, my hands were shaking—not from fear, but from exhaustion. From four o'clock in the afternoon until now, more than nine hours, I only managed to eat half a steamed bun while squatting on the steel bars during the break between pump truck tank changes.

At this moment, Old Wang walked over and offered him a cigarette.

"Engineer Chen, could you sign off on the work for the mold-breaking section?"

"Sign my ass," I said, taking the cigarette but not lighting it immediately. "Your reinforcement gap is missing two steel pipes. I'm being lenient by not causing you any trouble."

Old Wang chuckled, revealing a set of yellow teeth: "I'll be more careful next time. We're rushing to finish this, and we don't have enough materials. What can I do?"

I didn't respond to him. Instead, I lit a cigarette, took a drag, and the nicotine went down my throat, finally calming the buzzing in my head a little.

"Alright, I'll get a replacement visa form tomorrow and sign it."

"Okay, Engineer Chen, it's getting late, you should go home and get some rest." With that, Old Wang left.

The construction site fell silent. The pump trucks had driven away, the vibratory rollers had stopped, and even the large trucks on the distant national highway had decreased. Only a few HDL lights remained on, illuminating the entire foundation pit in a stark white light, like an operating table.

I sat on the edge of the foundation pit, staring blankly at what was in front of me.

My phone vibrated again.

Who is it at this time?

I took out my phone and saw 226, the college roommate group.

What comes into view is a bar exam score sheet.

"Brothers, I passed. I have a non-law degree, I'm currently employed, and after two years, I finally passed," the leader said in the group chat.

The eldest brother, whose real name is Hou Qunshan, was my roommate back in the day. After graduation, he went to work for a construction company for three years, then left to go home and prepare for the civil service exam. He failed, then prepared for the bar exam, which he has now passed.

The group chat exploded.

"Holy crap, that's awesome! You used to love looking at uniforms back in school, I never thought you'd actually wear one," the fourth brother, Li Hao, teased.

"Xiao Hao, how dare you talk to your brother like that? I'm a lawyer now. If you don't behave yourself at the construction site, I'll conduct a thorough investigation and make you an overnight sensation in your local area."

"Get lost, you infrastructure maniac." Li Hao casually threw out a few bomb-shaped emojis.

"Hurry up and switch careers. Let whoever wants to work on this crappy construction site do it," the boss said.

Looking at what the group leader said, I felt a bitter smile, my thumb hovering above the screen, unsure of what to type.

I wanted to type "Congratulations," but I typed those two words out and then deleted them, then typed them out again.

What are you congratulating? Are you congratulating someone for finally escaping this sea of ​​suffering?

What about yourself?

Sigh, I'll turn off my phone screen and go to sleep. I'll deal with everything when I'm awake.

When I stood up, my knee cracked.

At only thirty-three, my knees already look like an old man's. And look at my hands—my fingernails are completely black, no matter how much I wash them, they won't come off, and the calluses on my palms are as hard as sandpaper.

Once upon a time, during the second semester of my freshman year, I was a guitarist in the arts and literature department. Back then, a senior from the arts and literature department even said that my hands had distinct knuckles, which made me suitable for playing the guitar.

We dated for a while.

My senior has long since deleted me from WeChat. I heard she married someone who works in finance and lives in Shanghai.

When I got to the dormitory entrance, I took off my helmet and shook the dust off my trousers. The dormitory lights were still on.

It was called a dormitory, but it was actually a rented house by the project team. It had three bedrooms and a living room, and six people lived there.

When I pushed the door open, the technician, Xiao Liu, was still drawing and rubbing his eyes in front of the computer screen.

"Brother Chen, you're back? Is the floor finished?"

"Um."

"Did you receive the rectification order from the supervisor?"

"Not yet." I tossed my helmet onto the table. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

Xiao Liu said "oh" and turned back to drawing.

Xiao Liu is 25 years old this year. He graduated two years ago and just started dating a girlfriend. She works as a primary school teacher in the county town.

Every night I video chat with my girlfriend for half an hour. Even though she keeps her voice very low, I can still hear her say things like, "I miss you," and "I'll come see you this weekend."

In the past, if I heard something like that, I would have teased it back. But today, I just didn't feel like saying anything.

Take a towel and wash away your fatigue.

The water is cold. The water heater has been broken for half a month, and no one has fixed it.

I've already contacted the project department's logistics department twice.

However, Zhang, the logistics manager, said they'd buy new ones next time the boss comes. Nobody knows which "next time" that is.

The cold water splashed on me, making me shiver. But after a while, I got used to it and even found it quite comfortable. At least the cold water helped clear my head.

At that moment, I suddenly remembered the girl my mother had mentioned.

However, I have never met her. I only know that her name is Xiao Hui, she is 26 years old, fair-skinned, can do simple housework, can eat and dress by herself, but cannot do addition and subtraction of more than ten, needs someone to accompany her when going out, and will laugh out loud when watching cartoons.

The mental capacity of a nine-year-old.

What are nine-year-olds doing? In third grade, they're learning multiplication tables and watching "Boonie Bears." Anyway, when I was nine, I was fishing in the river with my friends in the village, and my mom caught us and chased after us, beating us.

If I marry Xiaohui, when I get home from get off work, can I tell her about today's disaster, like the model being destroyed or the supervisor causing trouble?

She'd probably say something like, "Do you watch cartoons?"

I couldn't help but give a wry smile, not because I found it funny, but because I found it absurd.

Even if others are in this situation, you have no right to laugh at them.

The woman didn't ask for a single penny of betrothal money, and even gave a car as part of her dowry.

What am I, a construction worker who owes 50,000 yuan in debt, hasn't finished paying off my mortgage, and earns a monthly salary of just over 6,000 yuan, picking and choosing?

I opened my phone, scrolled through my contacts, and found a name—Aunt Wang.

That was the matchmaker who introduced me to Xiaohui last time. But I turned her down immediately, saying it wasn't a good fit.

Finally, Aunt Wang said on the other end of the phone, "Think it over again. This girl is really good. She's obedient, doesn't cause trouble, and doesn't wander off when you're home alone."

Uh, at the time I found that phrase particularly jarring—"Don't run around." Was it referring to a person, or a dog?

But now, at 1:30 a.m., before I've even dried myself off with cold water, I suddenly realize that maybe Aunt Wang was right.

Be obedient, don't make a fuss, and don't run around.

Isn't this the best I could find?

My phone vibrated again.

My mom sent me a voice message. Before I could even open it, the phone's built-in voice-to-text function had already displayed the content.

"Sweetie, I might have been a little harsh with you today, don't take it to heart. If you don't want to, I won't force you. I just... I feel sorry for you."

I read the transcribed text three times and then deleted it.

It's not that I don't want to watch, it's that if I keep watching, I won't be able to stop myself from crying.

I put my phone on the sink, turned on the tap, and buried my face in the cold water.

You can't cry, you have to hold it in.

After leaving the bathroom, Xiao Liu had finished his video call with his girlfriend and was packing his things to go to sleep. He glanced at me, hesitant to speak.

"Say whatever you want to say." I dried my hair with a towel.

"Brother Chen, are you in a bad mood?"

"no."

"Oh." Xiao Liu hesitated for a moment, "Well... I might need to take the weekend off, my girlfriend's parents want to meet me."

"Go."

"I can get the paperwork for the progress payment ready by Friday—"

"I told you, go ahead." Feeling my tone was a bit too harsh, I said slowly, "Just do your best and don't tell anyone how much money you have left in your salary account."

Xiao Liu smiled, but it was a forced smile.

"Brother Chen, do you think it's really impossible for people in our line of work to find partners?"

"I can find it," I said, "when you're no longer a project manager, or a chief engineer, or a civil engineer."

Xiao Liu wanted to say something, but seeing how tired I looked, he turned off the light.

Tomorrow morning at 7:00 AM, Supervisor Huang will be coming to re-check the slump; this hurdle is likely to be difficult. At 8:00 AM, the client will have a progress meeting. At 9:00 AM, yesterday's construction log needs to be updated. At 10:00 AM, I need to supervise the rebar workers' tying. In the afternoon, next week's material plan needs to be submitted for inspection. In the evening, another foundation slab may need to be poured.

That's how life goes, one day at a time.

It won't get better, it won't get worse. It's just passing by.

Just as I turned over, pulled the blanket over my head, and prepared to go to sleep...

My phone vibrated again under my pillow.

Ten years ago, I would never have imagined that my greatest luxury now would be being able to close my eyes and have no one call me.

Never mind, time to sleep.