“Yes, yes!” David Brooks nodded repeatedly, then added a compliment: “With you at the helm, I think it’s only a matter of time before our factory turns losses into profits. By the way, this must be Assistant Turner, right? I heard you’re a top student from Renmin University—truly young and promising, and so handsome too, tsk tsk tsk!”

These last words were directed at Franklin Turner. But really, it’s one thing to praise someone’s looks, but what’s with the “tsk tsk tsk”? As he said this, Franklin Turner clearly saw a trace of drool at the corner of his mouth, which made him feel a chill of disgust.

Though he was full of aversion inside, Franklin Turner couldn’t show it. Lacking confidence in the other party’s inclinations, he didn’t dare shake hands, and instead pretended to be busy taking luggage down from the rack, occupying both hands.

When David Brooks saw Franklin Turner holding luggage, he reacted as if witnessing some social ill, exclaiming, “Oh dear, how can we let Assistant Turner carry his own luggage? Little Jack, Little Evelyn, hurry and help Director Sullivan and Assistant Turner with their bags.”

The two young men who had come with David Brooks were clearly there to handle the luggage; David Brooks didn’t even bother to introduce their names to Henry Sullivan and Franklin Turner. They were the proverbial extras, NPCs—people whose names Henry Sullivan and Franklin Turner had no need to remember.

The group began to get off the train, with Charles Harris bringing up the rear. Franklin Turner turned to look and saw Charles Harris carrying quite a few things, while his own hands were empty, so he instinctively reached out to take a bag from him.

This action was noticed by David Brooks, who was busy fussing over Henry Sullivan. He hesitated for a moment, then quickly reached out to snatch the bag from Franklin Turner. Franklin Turner held onto the bag and smiled, saying, “It’s fine, Director Brooks, I’m young, helping Section Chief Harris with a few things is no trouble at all.”

“Uh, uh, but is that really appropriate?” David Brooks chuckled awkwardly, then finally greeted Charles Harris: “Old Harris, what a coincidence! How did you run into Director Sullivan and the others?”

“Yeah, quite a coincidence. We chatted the whole way, and I didn’t even know these two were the new leaders at our factory,” Charles Harris explained, a bit too emphatically.

“You really can’t see the forest for the trees!” David Brooks joked, then hurried back to attend to Henry Sullivan.

After everyone got off the train, a young woman who had been waiting at the carriage door came up, warmly shaking hands with Henry Sullivan and apologizing repeatedly, saying she should have boarded the train to greet the new factory director, but there were too many people getting off and she couldn’t squeeze on—she hoped he would forgive her for the lapse in etiquette.

David Brooks introduced her to Franklin Turner, saying she was the head of the factory office, named Grace Grant, and that she already knew Henry Sullivan.

After the pleasantries, a faint braking sound was heard nearby. Franklin Turner turned to see that Little Jack and Little Evelyn, who had helped with the luggage earlier, had each driven up in a sedan, stopping just a few steps behind them.

The car in front was a nearly new S-Class Mercedes, and the one behind was a Bluebird, a bit less impressive but still looking quite new. Lin Yi Machine Tool Factory truly lived up to its reputation as a former giant of Linhe City—even the cars sent to pick people up could drive right onto the platform.

“Come, come, Director Sullivan, please get in,” Grace Grant called out warmly to Henry Sullivan, while David Brooks had already opened the back door of the Mercedes for him.

Franklin Turner noticed a flash of displeasure on Henry Sullivan’s face, but he said nothing, just nodded to Grant and Brooks, and got into the car. David Brooks closed the door for him, then turned to Franklin Turner and said, “Assistant Turner, why don’t we take the car behind?”

“I’ll follow your lead, Director Brooks,” Franklin Turner replied cheerfully. He turned, intending to invite Charles Harris to ride with him in the Bluebird back to the factory, but looked around and saw no sign of Old Harris.

David Brooks noticed what Franklin Turner was thinking and smiled, saying, “Assistant Turner is looking for Old Harris, right? He already left. That’s just how he is, no need to worry about him.”

Franklin Turner said, “Yeah, I actually find him quite interesting. On the train he told us a lot about Linhe’s local customs and culture—it was really eye-opening.”

“Really?” David Brooks replied absentmindedly. “He’s pretty sharp… uh, that’s our Dongye dialect, it means he’s very street-smart.”

Franklin Turner smiled and said, “I know that saying. Actually, I’m from Dongye too, from Tunling City.”

“Oh, really? That’s great!” David Brooks acted surprised, though it was unclear what was so surprising about it.

The two cars drove out of Linhe Railway Station one after the other, heading toward Linhe First Machine Tool Factory. Grace Grant sat with Henry Sullivan in the first car, and whatever they talked about, Franklin Turner had no way of knowing. David Brooks rode with Franklin Turner in the second car, chatting mostly about the weather, education, marriage, and other small talk, making it seem like a cheerful ride.

However, Franklin Turner could sense that David Brooks was only talking to him out of politeness, and deep down probably looked down on him, the young assistant to the factory director.