"Of course it's yours!" Little Dawson snapped as she snatched the photo away. Come on, if you want to hit on me, can you at least come up with a more reasonable excuse? You can't even recognize your own photo—who would believe that?

So this is what I look like... Henry Carter muttered to himself inwardly, but the words slipped out of his mouth: "So delicate..."

He meant nothing by it, but the moment Little Dawson, who was standing across from Henry Carter, heard it, her face flushed red. He said I look delicate... Hmm, this new vocational school student is actually quite handsome too...

The young girl was smitten, and her expression instantly brightened. She brushed glue on the back of a photo, stuck it onto Henry Carter's work ID, then held it out to him with both hands: "This is your work ID, keep it safe. If you lose it, you'll have to pay for a new one."

"Thank you, Emily." Henry Carter said with a smile.

"Hee hee, thank you, Emily." Mark Newman mimicked Henry Carter in a mocking tone. Back in those days, people weren't very romantic, and directly calling a girl by her name was considered odd. Henry Carter addressing Little Dawson so intimately naturally piqued the gossiping curiosity of hormone-fueled youngsters like Mark Newman and the others, and teasing looks appeared in all their eyes.

"Fatty, do you want to die?!" Little Dawson was overjoyed at being called "Emily" by Henry Carter, but didn't dare show it on her face. So she turned to Mark Newman, putting on a fierce front: "Who told you to smoke in the office? You got ash all over the floor. If Director Drake sees it when he comes to work tomorrow, he'll scold me again!"

"Aiyo, don't be so fierce, Emily." Mark Newman laughed, quickly flicking the ash into a nearby trash bin, and said, "John Drake dares to scold you, just say I flicked the ash. Let him come find me if he has the guts!"

After finishing the registration, Mark Newman and the others took Henry Carter to the family quarters to find the old head of administration, Ronald Brooks, to assign him a dorm. Ronald Brooks was a skinny man in his fifties. When he saw Henry Carter, he forced a smile and said a few empty words of welcome, then rummaged through some unknown drawer at home and pulled out a key, handing it to Henry Carter as he said:

"You'll stay in the singles' dorm for now. Come to the administration office tomorrow to finish the paperwork. This is the key to room 208. The previous occupant, Little Thompson, has been transferred. There's a bed and furniture in the room, but you'll probably have to clean it yourselves. Oh, and Fatty, you guys help Little Carter tidy up, okay?"

Mark Newman nodded, "Don't worry, Old Brooks, Henry Carter is my buddy, I'll take care of him."

"You little rascal, you don't even call me uncle. Aren't you afraid I'll tell your dad tomorrow?" Ronald Brooks scolded, pretending to be angry.

"Heh heh, on my first day at work, my dad said I can support myself now. I can call him Dad or Comrade Jane Newman, either way." Mark Newman said proudly to Ronald Brooks.

Ronald Brooks laughed, "Fatty, if you dare call your dad 'Comrade Jane Newman' to his face, you can call me Little Brooks from now on, and I promise I won't get mad."

"Uh... better not." Mark Newman instantly deflated like a punctured ball. "Ever since the old man retired, his temper's gotten worse, especially with me—he finds fault with everything I do. I don't even dare go home now, let alone joke around with him."

"I knew it!" Ronald Brooks said. "Alright, enough nonsense. Take Little Carter to the singles' dorm. It's almost dinner time. The administration office is closed today, so you can't buy meal tickets. Share some of yours with Little Carter, got it?"

"Don't worry, Section Chief Brooks, we won't let our buddy go hungry." Mark Newman said cheerfully to Ronald Brooks, then put his arm around Henry Carter's shoulder and led him toward the singles' dorm.

Chapter Six: A Neighbor Next Door Is Better Than a Distant Relative

After leaving Ronald Brooks's place, Henry Carter smiled and asked Mark Newman, "So, Mark Newman, is your father also working at this factory?"

Mark Newman nodded, then pointed at Harold Young and Leonard Miller, saying, "The three of us are all children of the agricultural machinery factory. Miss Yu's dad is the deputy head of finance, and Lei's dad is the director of the foundry workshop."

"Why don't you say your dad is the factory director?" Harold Young couldn't help exposing Mark Newman's secret.

"He's the director of the research office now, okay?" Mark Newman retorted, then turned back to explain to Henry Carter, "My old man used to be the factory director, but he stepped down two years ago. Now he's the head of the research office, which basically means he's been sidelined."

"So all three of you are the factory's 'yanei'—my respects." Henry Carter joked. The children of cadres in a small agricultural machinery factory weren't exactly awe-inspiring to Henry Carter, but it was harmless fun to joke about their status.

"What's 'yanei'?" The studious Leonard Miller asked curiously.

Henry Carter replied, "It means the young masters of officials' families. Like you guys—if this were ancient times, you'd be walking around with pet birds, leading a bunch of lackeys, and harassing respectable women in the streets."

"Hahahaha!" Mark Newman and the others burst out laughing. Jokes like this from the future were incredibly funny to people back then. Mark Newman laughed so hard he was pounding Henry Carter's shoulder with his bear paw, nearly flattening him.