Evan Ford remembered that back in his first year of technical school, before he started dating Grace Young, there were a few times after school when he and a group of upper and lower classmen would sit on the stone wall outside the campus, waiting for the female workers from the city’s Second Textile Factory to get off work.

　　In those days, ordinary workers in state-owned enterprises—including the female textile workers—actually had pretty high social status, at least not lower than students like Evan Ford. Many technical school and even university graduates still aimed to get into state-owned enterprises after graduation.

　　It was probably on this very road in front of him now, that every time the sun set and the ground was bathed in golden light, hundreds of female textile workers in deep blue Dacron uniforms, carrying colorful little bags and wearing looks of pride, would walk out of the factory gates in groups, heads held high as they crossed the street.

　　It was like a grand parade, or as if the street itself was a giant runway.

　　The boys were always dazzled, but as soon as the tall, long-haired Emily Grant appeared, she would immediately draw everyone’s attention, sparking a wave of whispered comments and a few bold whistles.

　　Then she would lower her head, hide among her friends, and quicken her pace.

　　This went on until a few bold guys tried to talk to her and got beaten up by Adam Grant, after which things changed.

　　In his memory, she really was quite pretty, with a fresh and gentle temperament.

　　As for her exact appearance, Evan Ford couldn’t recall it clearly. He only remembered that many years later, he once saw a photo of Left Small Youth from his younger days online, and was shocked for a moment:

　　“This actor looks a lot like the factory beauty I saw back in technical school.”

Chapter Six: I Got Into Trouble at School

　　A big iron-shelled bus, looking a lot like a passenger version of a desert off-road vehicle, pulled into the station with a “clang.”

　　A slender figure in deep blue appeared not far away—Evan Ford didn’t need to search his memory any further.

　　“Dazhao.”

　　A very pleasant voice, and Big Adam should be Adam Grant. The nickname was interesting, popular from the arcade era all the way into the internet age.

　　“Dazhao, wait for your sister, stop, listen to me first.”

　　The voice grew urgent, even panicked. Emily Grant ran as she shouted, her long braided hair bouncing behind her.

　　She was getting closer.

　　Small lapel, five buttons, double chest pockets, two slanted side pockets, a two-finger-wide jacket hem, the deep blue textile factory uniform wasn’t exactly fashionable, but it was clean and fit well. The pants, by modern standards, were a bit baggy, and the shoes didn’t really match…

　　But none of that mattered, because everything just fit so well, from the feeling to the temperament.

　　Evan Ford was certain that in all his lives, he’d never seen anyone else wear such an ordinary uniform with the same effect as Emily Grant. She carried the simple mark of an innocent era, yet was so fresh and beautiful.

　　Unfortunately, time was tight and he didn’t have a chance to look longer. Evan Ford hurried onto the bus with his bag and sat down by the window on an iron seat.

　　The ticket lady came over to “tear the ticket.”

　　Adam Grant got on too, but the ticket lady didn’t dare approach him and pretended not to see.

　　The driver was still looking back to see if anyone else was getting on.

　　“Clang.”

　　Adam Grant suddenly slammed his arm against the iron pole by the door, making a metallic sound… So, did this guy have a knife hidden up his sleeve?

　　What was he planning to do?

　　“Drive, hurry…”

　　Before Adam Grant could shout his next words, the driver hurriedly started the bus, making everyone lurch forward as it sped off.

　　“Dazhao… Dazhao, get off, I’m begging you, Dazhao.” That blue figure chased after the bus from behind.

　　“Thud.”

　　She fell, sprawling on the roadside.

　　Adam Grant saw it, and his expression immediately changed.

　　“Clang.”

　　Another sound.

　　“Stop the bus. I told you to stop, damn it, didn’t you see my sister fall?”

　　The driver obediently stopped. Adam Grant jumped off in two steps, helped Emily Grant up, and asked nervously, “Sis, are you okay?”

　　Evan Ford, watching through the window, saw Emily Grant get up while clutching her brother’s sleeve tightly with her scraped, bleeding hands, crying and saying something…

　　“Come on, Big Adam, come home with me.”

　　“I won’t, I have to go kill him.”

　　“It’s not just me getting laid off, this is following national policy. Besides, it’s not even decided yet, they just said there’s a possibility and told us to stop work and wait for news.”

　　“Bullshit, you weren’t even on that list at first, you’re an advanced worker, I checked… That old bastard is just using this to threaten you. He even dares to make a move on you, I’m going to kill him today.”

　　“…And if you kill him, you’ll go to jail, get executed… Then I’ll be the only one left in the family, what will I do? Would you be okay with that?”

　　“I…”

　　“Be good, come home with me. If I lose my job… well, there will always be another way. Worst case, we borrow some money, I’ll do what the others do and open a tailor shop. I have skills, we won’t starve.”

　　Evan Ford, sitting by the window, caught bits and pieces of the siblings’ conversation.

　　So she was about to be laid off. 1992—this must have been the first batch, pioneers in a way, so it was only natural to be more panicked and unable to accept it, especially since there seemed to be something fishy going on.