Rumors a thousand miles away, even if Zhou Jiao doesn’t know them, she has so premonitions in her heart. What is ant to co will co, fate is seventy percent, human effort thirty percent.
She has always supported the principle of "if people don’t offend , I won’t offend them." She respects life, on the premise that this life does not threaten her own.
For those harboring malice, she retaliates with tactics. It won’t cost anyone their life, but if those people aren’t punished, how can they rember?
As for whether the ancestral graves will be destroyed?
That truly relies on that seventy percent fate. Just those powders and chanisms have cost her considerable effort over the years. She considers she has given her best to the Gu Family.
Thus, Miao Lishan’s worries are cast aside by Zhou Jiao afterward. And the Cheng Family? Besides the elderly lady, they’re not really the Zhou Family.
The morning bugle call signals wake-up, and it’s another new day.
The gate of the Zhou Family courtyard opens wide, each person busy with their daily routine. In the morning mist, two figures of Zhou Xiaozheng and Zhang Guoqing are clearly seen running out one after the other.
Inside the courtyard, on both sides, Zhou Jiao and Ping’an are each practicing boxing, while Miao Lishan leads the twins in washing up in the bathroom of the lit small building.
In the distance, amid the drill call "1-2-3-4," Zhou Jiao finishes her practice and heads to the kitchen. After breakfast, she must catch the first public bus to go to work.
Day in and day out, following the bugle call routine, for Ping’an who is going to town today, he knows when to set out without even looking at the clock.
Once the work call sounds, he also slings his military satchel and leaves the house with the family. eting up with his friends at the agreed place, they head together to school.
Nowadays, the entire nation loves military attire. These older children wear uniforms, badges, red armbands, and sling military satchels.
However, the children in the Big Courtyard have always worn their parents’ altered old uniforms, which doesn’t surprise any passing military personnel or their families.
When he steps into the school gate, Zhou Jiao also arrives at the unit.
The closer to the city center, the tenser the atmosphere becos; not to say a state of fear and alarm, but everyone feels insecure. The initial relaxed atmosphere upon entering the unit has disappeared.
In the office, as Zhou Jiao thinks about going out to get hot water, she finds the hot water bottle full and smirks ironically. Everyone is starting to compete in showing off.
Sitting opposite her, Jin Lijuan makes eye contact with her, glances outside, and gives a knowing look.
Zhou Jiao understands and slightly shakes her head at her. Compared to those petty people who report behind backs, this small harmless matter is nothing to fuss over.
After taking a seat, the other two colleagues, Shen Zhao and Shao Dongrui, also arrive for work one after the other.
"Is there more of this badge?"
As Jin Lijuan speaks, Zhou Jiao glances in surprise at the two male colleagues and nearly laughs aloud. These two have recently changed their chest dals again.
——Now they’re wearing quite large ones!
From Jin Lijuan’s serious eyes, Zhou Jiao clearly sees a touch of mockery.
Shen Zhao gives her a sideways look and takes out two badges from his briefcase, placing them in the middle of their desk, "New editions, just a few, I haven’t forgotten you all."
"Thanks."
"Let’s progress together."
Well, once those words are spoken, the following conversation begins with quotations. However, everyone has grown accustod to it; without starting with a quote, they can’t really have a good chat.
As for the topic, it revolves around this month’s supplies and daily trivial matters.
With the office door open, people co and go at all tis.
Nobody ntions why a particular leader was suddenly taken for isolation and review yesterday, or the resulting chaos after the case was unclear, even tacitly agreeing not to discuss it.
No one would foolishly bring up sensitive topics.
Zhou Jiao isn’t interested in these things, casually rubbing the large round dal. As for wearing such a large badge? Forget it, the original one is better.
No reports or data, no business trips, even receiving guests is not their departnt’s task. The four of them share a newspaper, sip tea, and occasionally chat idly until lunchti.
Holding their standard-issue lunchboxes and enal mugs, they first go to the canteen to get als, as usual, there’s a pre-al thought summary, accompanied by so slogans.
Nowadays, it is both fashionable and trendy.
Today’s food has a slightly burnt taste, the dishes are as crude as pig feed.
Zhou Jiao glances at the surrounding colleagues’ faces, guessing no one will step forward to complain. She doesn’t mind, it’s just lunch; at most, she’ll find an excuse to go out for a midday rest next ti.
Such a pity for the original master chef’s good skills.
She doesn’t feel sympathy for him, after all, he siphoned too much from the system. Moreover, regarding quotas, whether you’ve actually done sothing or not, soone must take the fall.
If a unit can’t catch a few aberrations, it’s blad for weak class struggle, for not holding high the policies, not closely following them.
Repeated harsh realities have taught people that only by actively participating in movents can you be seen as the active faction, enabling you to survive in this society.
Otherwise, you’re constantly at risk of being heartlessly discarded, even threatened with being completely swept into the history’s trash heap.
Zhou Jiao cannot join those who castigate the "shelling" and "burning," nor, despite having thoughts, can she dare or afford to stand up and say a fair word for others.
Every ti she rembers this powerlessness, a wave of bitterness rolls over her heart.
In this deeply ingrained sense of self-preservation within everyone’s heart, no one understands the perils of humanity’s crisis better than she does.
Yet, since ti immorial, how many have repaid kindness with animosity, committed betrayal, and forgotten loyalty?
In the afternoon, after receiving the month’s salary and tickets, Zhou Jiao unexpectedly hears that the supply of cabbages for each household has been reduced again.
Unlike Jin Lijuan and the others, her household registration is in the Big Courtyard, where the military district has its own supply system. However, understanding the current situation isn’t difficult.
"You’re better off, I’m taking leave to queue, keep an eye for if anything cos up."
Zhou Jiao rely smiles nonchalantly. Having a privileged background isn’t worth any pride. When will the day co when she can rely on herself?
Where there’s one, there’s two; as usual, the male colleagues Shen Zhao and Shao Dongrui hurriedly go to request leave upon hearing this news.
They are both already settled with families, especially Shao Dongrui, whose wife is a long-distance train attendant traveling from Beijing to the Northwest. These days she happens to be at work. If he waits for her to return to buy, he might not even get leftover cabbage stems.
This concerns livelihood, especially the only indispensable main dish for every household before next spring. Unless there’s a reverse unmanageable disaster, no unit will deny this short leave.
"Well, we’re off."
"Go early. Careful not to miss out on the good ones."
This is why they’re eager to return.
Cabbages are sold by grade with different pricing. First-grade costs just over 2 cents per pound, second-grade is under 2 cents, third-grade around 1 cent, and below-standard fourth-grade is 7 mils.
Having just received their salary, they’re not short of money. But goods are divided into grades, and arriving early has its advantages.
Watching their hurried departure alongside other colleagues taking leave outside, Zhou Jiao shakes her head secretly. Days must start embracing frugality again.
Since autumn arrived, what she has been constantly concerned about— the intermittent, sotis intense, sotis lax campaign to eliminate— erges tightly once more.
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