This is utterly humiliating!

"You're skipping work on your first day?" Old Jia saw him swaggering out of the workshop and immediately ran to the workshop director to complain.

The director flipped through the roster, then looked up in surprise: "Liu Dong? There's no such person here. He's not from our unit!"

Just then, the factory's loudspeaker blared: "Puff puff puff..."

Immediately afterwards, a clear voice echoed throughout the factory area:

"Good morning, leaders and colleagues! I am Liu Dong, and today I officially take on the role of broadcaster for the steel rolling mill's publicity department. From now on, I will be responsible for broadcasting daily news, instructions from superiors, and factory notices..."

Please give us your support!

"The following is a notice: This afternoon at 4 PM, the Publicity Department will be showing the movie 'Dragon Beard Ditch' for employees in the plaza behind the administration building. Please bring your own stool, keep quiet during the screening, and take your trash with you. Thank you for your cooperation!"

……

Old Jia was dumbfounded.

Is Liu Dong not a worker?

He's a broadcaster?!

Recalling how he had just taken on a disciple, threatened the man, and insisted on having wine, Old Jia's face flushed red to the roots of his ears.

I was putting on a one-man show for ages.

So all that talk was for nothing, and they weren't even under my jurisdiction?

This is utterly embarrassing!

To put it bluntly, Liu Dong's job is an easy one.

Every day, the loudspeaker would come on, read out a few announcements, and occasionally play some music to pass the time.

Life goes by like instant noodles—fast and tasteless.

As soon as noon arrived, before the end-of-get off work bell had even rung, he and Yu Liansheng headed to the cafeteria for lunch.

Back then, everyone carried their own lunchboxes, all made of the same dull, grayish aluminum, which could bounce three times if dropped on the ground.

With more people in the factory, the canteen also got more staff, and the one in charge of cooking was a familiar face—He Daqing.

This guy, dressed in a khaki overall and wearing a white hat, looked just like a steamer chef who had just crawled out of a steamer. He stood behind the window, serving food to everyone.

The food wasn't given away for free; you had to pay for it.

Of course, if you're happy to eat cold bread and drink cold water, no one will stop you from bringing your own dry food.

Whether you come or not is entirely up to you.

The problem is that the canteen doesn't aim to make a profit at all; it buys all its basic necessities like rice, oil, and salt in bulk, which keeps costs low and prices even cheaper.

Cooking at home is not as cost-effective as cooking here, so who would be foolish as to go home and cook?

So, 99% of the people in the entire factory area eat here.

"Just one steamed bun, stir-fried with vegetables will do."

Liu Dong has a small appetite. He works in an office and doesn't do manual labor, so it's normal for him to eat little.

He Daqing glanced at him, then scooped up a spoonful of celery and handed it to him.

But Liu Dong immediately noticed something was wrong—everyone else's bowls were piled high with food, while his was so little it looked like it had been licked by a dog.

It's at most seven parts of what others would give.

Damn it! This bastard is choking me!

Liu Dong rolled his eyes inwardly: I've never beaten up his parents or torn down his wedding room, so why is he doing this to me?

Is it because I'm doing better than him?

Well, people are really more ruthless than feeding dogs.

He was too lazy to argue, so he grabbed the food and turned to leave.

Eating one more bite won't make a difference, and eating one less bite won't make a difference either, since we won't lack nutrition anyway.

It's not worth getting worked up about such important things. Go back inside, make yourself a cup of tea, and silently repeat to yourself three times, "May your pot be fried to a crisp." That should calm you down.

"Snapped!"

"Clang! Clang!"

He had just sat down and taken a couple of bites when two lunchboxes were slammed onto his table.

Old Jia and Yi Zhonghai plopped down, their eyes not very friendly.

Old Jia said sarcastically, "Oh, Liu Dong, you've been keeping a low profile, haven't you? You transferred to the propaganda department without a word?"

The frustration inside was bubbling up – his scheme to use connections to get him in the back door had failed, and he was losing face.

Liu Dong kept eating with his chopsticks, chewing as he retorted, "Why can't I go to the publicity department?"

"You don't understand!" Old Jia took a deep breath, adopting the air of a life coach. "The propaganda department sounds impressive, but it's a dead end!"

"A lowly clerk my whole life, my salary increases slower than a snail's pace!"

"We skilled workers are different. From level one to level eight, the higher you go, the more sought-after you become, and the bonuses and commissions all go with it!"

"Once I reach level eight... hehe, even your section chief will have to call me 'Master'!"

He grinned, his face full of smugness: "You think your radio station director earns as much as I do?"

That's true, and everyone around nodded in agreement.

"Technology is the only true measure of success!"

"Liu Dong, have you lost your mind?"

"What kind of future does someone have who spends all day reading from a script?"

Liu Dong wiped his mouth and looked up at Lao Jia.

How should I respond now?

Talking about the future? Discussing ideals? Or just talking about what lies ahead?

That's utter nonsense.

This isn't a real lecture; it's setting a trap, hoping to catch him and make him regret it.

This is psychological warfare, not casual conversation.

Then don't blame me for being uncivilized.

"Cough, cough, cough!" Liu Dong coughed twice suddenly, his face hardening, his voice rising abruptly: "Comrade Jia, what did you mean by what you just said? What are you really up to?"

"What, is repairing machines more profitable than doing advertising?"

"Does salary become the standard for measuring contribution?"

"Your thinking is flawed!" He jumped to his feet, his voice so loud it made his lunchbox shake. "Did I come to the factory to make money?"

"I'm here to dedicate my youth to building our country!"

"All you ever talk about is 'money,' what are you after?"

"You're an old worker, can't you set a good example for the young people? Do you even remember the revolutionary spirit?"

"We are workers, but more importantly, we are the backbone of the nation! Don't you understand this?"

The air froze.

Old Jia's face turned green: "Damn, how come this usually quiet guy speaks like he's memorized a Party school textbook? I couldn't even make up something like that!"

The entire cafeteria was completely silent.

Three seconds later, a steady voice suddenly rang out—

"Well said!"

Everyone turned around and saw that Director Yang was standing behind them, looking approving.

Yang Hongbing stepped forward, patted him on the shoulder, and said, "Comrade, you're wrong about that. I think you need to really rethink your thinking!"

Old Jia was terrified on the spot.

"No, no, no! Director Yang! I didn't mean anything by it, I was just... joking with Liu Dong, just kidding!"

Yang Hongbing's face darkened: "You can joke about something like this?"

"Liu Dong is right! No matter what position you hold, you're all contributing to the country and building a new dragon nation. How can you distinguish between noble and lowly positions?"

"Come on! Let's give Comrade Liu Dong a round of applause!"

"Whoosh—"

The applause erupted, so loud it seemed to shake the roof.

Once things calmed down, Director Yang patted Lao Jia on the shoulder: "You are a key technical member of our factory. I acknowledge your technical skills, but if your mindset doesn't keep up, something bad will happen sooner or later."

"I'll let it go this time, but don't let it happen again."

After saying that, he waved his hand and went to get his food.

Back then, factory leaders didn't have any special meals; they had to queue up for whatever they wanted to eat.

As soon as Director Yang left, Old Jia glared fiercely at Liu Dong.

Liu Dong didn't even lift his eyelids: "Comrade Jia, what are you looking at me for? You're not happy?"

"I...I..." Old Jia grabbed his lunchbox and slunk away.