Chapter 14: The Lucky Wife’s Influence – A Letter of Introduction to the Railway Ministry!
In the courtyard, preparations for Jia Dongxiu’s wedding banquet were in full swing. Yi Zhonghai was determined to show everyone just how much he valued his apprentice.
At the same time, he wanted to set an example for Dongxiu—how he treated Dongxiu now was how Dongxiu would treat him in old age.
Meanwhile, Old Chen, dressed in tattered clothes, arrived at the Fengtai Locomotive Depot. Just as he was about to start his shift, a trainee came running over, panting.
“Old Chen! The depot chief wants to see you!”
Old Chen hurried to the chief’s office.
“Old Chen, weren’t you asking about getting your son a job here? Considering your circumstances, the organization has decided to give him a special opportunity!”
“The Fengtai Depot is holding an exam—recruiting firemen, train attendants, and broadcasters. If he’s willing, have him come take it. If he passes, he can join the Railway Ministry.”
“Of course, I’d suggest he apply for fireman. The attendant positions… those aren’t easy. Your son wouldn’t pass the political screening.”
It wasn’t that Chen Shi had any political issues—it was just that most train attendant candidates were family members of martyrs, who received priority.
Old Chen’s weary eyes gleamed. “Start a family, then a career.” It seemed this daughter-in-law really was the right choice!
For over two years, he’d tried to secure work for his son—no luck. Yet the moment Chen Shi married, an opportunity appeared!
“Alright, I’ll talk to him.”
The depot chief nodded. “Good. The apprentices you trained can handle the fireman duties today. Take the day off—go tell your son early so he can prepare.”
Old Chen’s eyes welled up. “Chief Zheng… thank you. Thank the organization for me.”
“Old Chen, don’t mention it. Who in Fengtai Depot doesn’t know your heroic deeds?”
“You’d rather skin yourself alive than let the Nationalists win. You’d rather die than let the postal factory fall into enemy hands.”
“Back then, undercover at the No. 506 Postal Factory, you led the workers in the ‘Hunger Strike’—demanding fair treatment. You made sure they clocked in but didn’t work, didn’t eat!”
“When the Nationalists threatened to execute the strikers, you stood firm. You fought smart—and won!”
“That night, the factory echoed with ‘Unity is Strength.’ And you, risking your life, smuggled in our secret factory protection squad—stopping the Nationalists from sabotaging or looting the equipment!”
“Without your bravery, how could Peking’s communications have been restored so quickly after liberation? Even now, the No. 506 Factory supplies parts for the war in Korea!”
“Last year, when the higher-ups visited, they said our depot was full of hidden talents!”
Every time Old Chen’s past was mentioned, the entire depot swelled with pride.
Old Chen grinned. “No need to dwell on the past, Chief Zheng. I’ll head back now?”
“Go, rest well. Here’s your son’s exam introduction letter—don’t lose it!”
Old Chen carefully tucked the letter into his bag, then stopped by the Fengtai Depot Hospital to buy asthma medicine for Shen Youchu’s mother.
Only then did he stroll back to the courtyard.
At the alley entrance, he ran into Yi Zhonghai and Liu Haizhong, on their way to work.
Liu Haizhong smirked. “Aiyo, where’d this beggar come from?”
Yi Zhonghai chuckled. “More like a scrap collector.”
“Wait—Old Chen? Didn’t go to work today?”
Old Chen coughed weakly. “Went, but felt unwell. The boss let me rest. Lucky the apprentices I trained can handle things now.”
Liu Haizhong feigned concern. “Aiyo, better take care! Four mouths to feed at home, plus country relatives—all on your salary. If you collapse, what then?”
Yi Zhonghai’s eyes glinted with schadenfreude.
Old Chen walked on, hands behind his back. Once out of earshot, he snorted.
“What do you peasants know of my world?”
His son might soon join the Railway Ministry—then who in this courtyard could compare?
But he kept these thoughts to himself. “Success loves silence; words bring failure.”
“Hey, Old Chen! Heard your boy got married—when’s the banquet?”
Old Chen smiled. “Still deciding. Didn’t Chen Shi give you candy?”
“Nope! Even without a banquet, you should’ve handed out sweets!”
Old Chen’s face darkened. “That little rascal must’ve pocketed the money again!”
He stormed toward the courtyard.
The courtyard buzzed with activity for Jia Dongxiu’s wedding.
Silly Zhu was setting up the stove.
Yan Bugui and the younger men were building the wedding canopy.
In these lean times, space was scarce. The Jia family’s 20-square-meter room could barely fit themselves, let alone guests.
So, a canopy of reed mats went up in the courtyard—with “windows” left for light.
There were no wedding cars—brides walked or biked to their new homes.
The ceremony? Simple.
Stack the couple’s quilts together.
Invite friends for a modest meal.
Bow to a portrait of the Great Leader.
Let the officiant say a few words.
This was called a “shared-quilt wedding.”
“Xiulan, come sew a few stitches! In this whole courtyard, you’re the only ‘complete’ one—parents alive, son and daughter both thriving!”
“No, I really can’t…”
“Aiyo, do it for Dongxiu!”
As Old Chen entered, he saw Yi Zhonghai’s wife dragging Tian Xiulan into sewing the wedding quilt—a task reserved for “auspicious women.”
With no better candidates, the Jia family had fixated on her.
“Fine… just a few stitches!”
Shuisan’s mother cut red paper decorations.
Others carried tables, chairs, or contributed sugar, vermicelli, mushrooms, and starch.
“Zhu, thanks for handling the banquet!”
“Auntie Yi, don’t mention it! Dongxiu’s always looked out for me—of course I’ll help!”
Old Chen scanned the crowd.
He Yushui and Chen Maihua were helping.
Even Shen Youchu was pitching in.
But Chen Shi? Nowhere in sight.
He marched to the east courtyard—where Chen Shi lay on the kang, smoking a Da Qianmen cigarette, legs crossed, humming a tune.