Chapter 70: A Letter from Gu Tingxiao
“We must make sure Comrade Sheng Wanyan stays with us,” the deputy factory director insisted, his voice laced with genuine gratitude. He openly acknowledged that her brilliant work had saved the entire administration from a massive political headache.
“Secretary Fang,” the director called out, turning to his assistant. “Instruct the Finance Department to award Comrade Sheng Wanyan an additional ten yuan in cash and five kilograms of premium food coupons as a formal performance bonus.”
“Right away, Director.”
Secretary Fang nodded and marched straight over to the accounting block. A short while later, when Sheng Wanyan reported to the counter to collect her standard monthly wages, she froze in sheer astonishment at the unexpected surplus.
“This is a special bonus directly authorized by the executive board,” the finance clerk explained with a broad, respectful smile. “Your publicity campaign this month was an absolute triumph for the mill.”
“Yes, exactly! If our facility can maintain this flawless standard moving forward, the bureau will be thrilled,” another clerk chimed in, eagerly joining the conversation.
The moment a person achieves a massive, undeniable victory, everyone around them suddenly clamors to establish a prime relationship with them. Wanyan recalled her first week at the mill, when she had been terrified of inadvertently slighting the finance staff; back then, those clerks carried themselves with an arrogant disdain, looking down on every ordinary laborer who wasn’t an executive.
Yet now, they were practically tripping over themselves to flatter her.
“I’ll certainly continue to do my best,” Wanyan replied with a polite, noncommittal smile. Privately, however, she resolved that she would never volunteer to lead such an exhausting project again; managing the logistics had left her entirely burned out.
“Comrade Sheng Wanyan, a few of us from the office are heading out for dinner after we clock off,” one of the senior finance women noted warmly. “Would you care to join us?”
“Yes, definitely! It’s the perfect opportunity for us to get to know each other and become proper friends.”
The finance staff was overflowing with a sudden, intense enthusiasm—so aggressive that Sheng Wanyan felt a bit overwhelmed.
“Thank you so much for the invitation, sisters, but I really must decline,” she replied smoothly, tucking her cash into her bag. “I promised my mother I’d head straight home to help prepare dinner tonight.”
“Oh, what a shame. How about tomorrow evening then?”
“Yeah, tomorrow works perfectly for us!”
Wanyan mentally reviewed her schedule, remembering her existing obligations. “Our Propaganda Department has already booked a celebratory dinner for tomorrow night. Let’s definitely find a time next week instead!”
Sheng Wanyan simply wanted to maintain a polite, professional rapport with her colleagues; she felt absolutely zero desire to cultivate intimate personal friendships with them. After all, the women dominating the Finance Department were all long-married with teenage children, placing them in the exact same demographic as her own mother. Squeezing into a social circle with people who faced an immense generation gap sounded incredibly tedious.
Realizing her schedule was fully booked with official department events, the finance clerks reluctantly dropped the issue, content to wait for a better opening to secure a bond with the rising star.
“Next week it is, then!”
“Of course. Thank you again!”
Sheng Wanyan quickly signed her name across the official ledger and vanished out the front doors of the Finance Department before they could corner her again.
On her way back to the apartment, she made a brief detour past the market, utilizing her new cash to purchase two kilograms of fresh pork. When she proudly presented her monthly earnings to Mother Sheng, the older woman’s sharp eyes instantly locked onto the extra ten yuan and the premium coupons. She immediately grabbed her daughter’s arm, demanding a full explanation.
Sheng Wanyan patiently broke down the events of the inspection. Hearing the narrative, Mother Sheng stared at her in absolute, stunned bewilderment.
“You’re telling me the chief executive personally designated you to spearhead the entire municipal campaign?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“And the moment the city ministers departed, the director explicitly ordered the treasury to award you a private bonus?”
“Yes!”
Unable to contain her surging shock, Mother Sheng reached out and pinched Wanyan’s thigh with ferocious strength!
“Ow! Mom, stop! That hurts!” Sheng Wanyan cried out, frantically rubbing her bruised leg. Why on earth did her mother resort to physical violence when she was happy? “It really hurts!”
“My precious girl! You’ve actually made it!” Mother Sheng cheered, slapping her own hands together in pure triumph before sprinting down the corridor to echo the glorious news to the rest of the household.
The apartment instantly erupted into a flurry of excitement, the family swarming Wanyan to demand every minor detail of the inspection.
“Does this mean the highest ministers in the city bureau now recognize your face?” Mother Sheng pressed, her imagination running completely wild with grand ambitions.
“Mom, please. I am merely an ordinary, low-level clerk,” Wanyan countered gently, attempting to tether her family back to reality.
Grandpa Sheng brought his palm down against the wooden table with a firm thud, his expression turning solemn. “Wanyan is entirely correct. She remains a basic worker. None of you are to breathe a syllable of this to the neighbors. Do not gloat, and do not make a public spectacle out of this victory!”
“We must ensure we do not invite unnecessary jealousy or political trouble to our doorstep.”
The old patriarch’s stern warning instantly cooled the room’s frantic excitement. Grandma Sheng stepped forward, gently patting Wanyan’s hand with an affectionate smile. “Your grandfather is entirely wise, child. You shined far too brilliantly in front of the factory floor today. For the next few months, you must consciously pull back, remain calm, and keep your head down.”
“I understand, Grandma. That was my plan all along.”
“Listen well to your grandparents, girl,” Father Sheng added seriously. He was an experienced industrial hand who understood the complex, shifting tides of factory politics perfectly. While his daughter’s triumph filled his chest with an immense sense of paternal pride, he knew all too well that an excess of prestige invariably bred a toxic amount of resentment among less capable peers.
Sheng Wanyan was a woman of her word. The following morning, she arrived at her desk, extracted her knitting needles and balls of yarn from her drawer, and peacefully focused on crafting her sweaters during office hours.
Watching the department’s gold-standard worker casually launch into personal crafts, Wu Jiaxiu didn’t hesitate; she hauled her own massive sack of raw wool from home the very next day and happily joined the session. True to human nature, once a precedent was established, the rest of the office quickly followed suit. Within forty-eight hours, the general atmosphere of the Propaganda Department flawlessly reverted to its traditional, historic state of peaceful, synchronized slacking.
Furthermore, now that Sheng Wanyan’s name was firmly entrenched in the good graces of the chief executive and the municipal bureau, Logistics Director Wang was forced to thoroughly suppress his predatory designs. He was a corrupt strategist, but he wasn’t stupid; he realized the girl was a political hot potato who couldn’t be touched under the current climate. If a rising star like Wanyan suffered the slightest grievance or harassment within the compound, the administration would launch a ruthless investigation to protect their asset.
He had no choice but to shift his target for the foreseeable future, choosing to bide his time until her seasonal spotlight faded into obscurity. Sooner or later, he vowed silently, watching her from afar, that exquisite creature will bleed through her defenses and fall right into my arms.
Shorn of Wang Chaofan’s annoying, staged encounters, Sheng Wanyan passed the subsequent month in supreme comfort. Not only did she utilize the quiet office hours to complete the entire roster of winter sweaters for her family, but her private mailbox was also flooded with a massive delivery of foreign volumes and substantial royalty checks from the Capital newspaper.
To crown her good fortune, she received a thick, heavy envelope from Gu Tingxiao alongside a massive, secured parcel.
Tearing open the envelope, she discovered a pristine stack of high-grade ration certificates accompanied by a deeply personal letter. He had enclosed exactly fifty yuan cash—forty of which comprised his standard monthly officer’s stipend, while the remaining ten yuan represented an elite operational bonus he had earned during a classified mission. The rest of the bundle consisted of rare national supply coupons.
But the true shock came when she sliced through the ropes binding the massive parcel. Resting inside the heavy canvas wrapper was a pair of pristine, plush gloves lined with rabbit fur, a matching rabbit fur scarf, and a breathtaking, full-length mink coat.
A high-grade mink garment of this caliber was an exceptionally rare luxury—an item that would be considered an elite status symbol even in the affluent markets of her past life. The absolute thermal insulation it offered was lightyears beyond the crude cotton-padded jackets worn by the masses.
Wanyan unfolded his letter, her eyes tracing his handwriting. Gu Tingxiao’s script was remarkably sharp, aggressive, and disciplined, standing in stark contrast to her own elegant, fluid characters.
To Comrade Sheng Wanyan:
A significant amount of time has slipped past since my deployment back to the regiment base, and my mind is thoroughly consumed by my intense longing for you.
I cannot help but wonder: how have you been faring during these passing weeks?
The crate of homemade provisions you shipped arrived in perfect condition. Per your explicit instructions, I immediately routed a matching portion of the cured meats to my future brother-in-law’s quarters.
The moment your older brother, Sheng Wanze, deduced that you and I were formally courting, he fiercely cornered me and challenged me to a grueling physical duel out on the training grounds.
Though the final tally shows I technically suffered a defeat under his fists, I surrendered the victory willingly! An officer must absolutely afford his future brother-in-law a proper amount of face, after all.
Reading your detailed descriptions of your recent factory exploits, I can perfectly visualize how fulfilling and dynamic your days have become. It brings an immense wave of relief to my chest.
Enclosed, please find half of my active salary and my accumulated operational bonuses. The remaining portion of my pay has been dispatched back to my parents’ estate to cover my household contributions, exactly as you decreed.
I have already formally notified my elders that I am engaged in a serious courtship. The news has left my family ecstatic, and they are deeply eager to coordinate a formal summit between our two clans at the earliest possible date.
I am intimately aware that our relationship remains in its foundational stage. However, an old maxim dictates that if a man courts a woman without the explicit, ultimate objective of holy matrimony, his behavior is no different from a common hooligan!
I have already fully checked and managed my relatives’ expectations. The moment Comrade Sheng Wanyan decides our bond is mature enough to broach the topic of a wedding, you merely need to signal me. I am standing by at every single second, fully prepared to marry you.
…
I am aggressively angling to secure a stretch of military leave so I can board a train and see you soon. Until then, please look after your health meticulously, and do not worry about my safety.
Comrade Gu Tingxiao.
Sheng Wanyan sat frozen at her desk, staring down at the ink for a remarkably long time after she finished reading. Gu Tingxiao had spent a singular, brief afternoon with her in person, and the entirety of their subsequent romance had been conducted strictly through the transit of paper envelopes.
How on earth did we vault straight from a first date to organizing a wedding registry?! she wondered, her mind spinning.
She had to admit that the martial and cultural pacing of this era was blindingly fast. Courtships in the 1970s operated with an intense, unyielding sincerity—a universe away from the transient, easily discarded relationships of the modern era where partners could be swapped out the moment an inconvenience arose.
Sheng Wanyan was an honorable woman who refused to trample over the pure, unblemished devotion a good man laid at her feet. She carefully reached for a fresh sheet of stationery, determined to craft a flawless reply that fully matched his intensity while maintaining her own elegant boundaries.
