After a bout of laughter, Harold Young said, “Henry Carter, you’ve just arrived at Qingfeng Factory, so you don’t know the situation. What kind of privileged kids are we? The factory has been losing money for two years straight, and we’re almost out of options. Now, the factory can only pay basic wages, and the old workers can’t even get their medical expenses reimbursed. The few of us earn a little over twenty yuan as apprentice wages, and we have to hand it all over to our families. If we want to buy a pack of cigarettes, we have to go out and do some side hustles to earn the money ourselves.”

“Side hustles?” Henry Carter was taken aback.

“It just means doing a bit of small business on our own,” Leonard Miller explained for Harold Young. “Like what we did today—taking some scrap materials from the factory, making a few shovels or hoes, and selling them to the ‘laobiao’ to make some pocket money.”

“Oh, that’s what you mean.” Henry Carter was relieved. He knew that the “laobiao” Leonard Miller mentioned was a term city folks used for farmers. It didn’t really carry any positive or negative connotation, but it did show a sense of superiority from the speaker.

As they talked, the group arrived in front of the bachelor dormitory—a two-story tube-shaped building that looked like it had been around for quite a few years. The walls and windows were all covered in a layer of gray dust. Walking inside, a wave of heat hit them, mixed with the aroma of stir-fried food, the smell of people’s sweat, and the damp scent from the washroom. In the hallway, every room had a coal stove at the door, and men and women were busy cooking dinner, all the while loudly exchanging all sorts of gossip.

The dorm assigned to Henry Carter by Ronald Brooks was on the second floor of the bachelor building. The group went up the wooden stairs, with Leonard Miller leading the way and reminding Henry Carter as they walked, “Henry Carter, watch your step. That section of wood is rotten—if you don’t step carefully, you’ll fall.”

“Thanks, Leizi,” Henry Carter replied.

They went upstairs and stopped at the door of room 208. As Henry Carter was taking out his key to open the door, the door across the hall opened and a young woman poked her head out.

“Fatty, who are you looking for?” The girl recognized Mark Newman and asked him.

This was already the third time Henry Carter had heard someone call Mark Newman by that nickname. It seemed that Mark Newman’s “Fatty” moniker was well-known throughout Qingfeng Factory. Considering that Mark Newman’s father was the former factory director, it wasn’t surprising that the son attracted so much attention.

“Olivia Watson, so it’s you living across the hall,” Mark Newman said, recognizing the girl. He pointed at Henry Carter and said, “This is Henry Carter, my buddy. He graduated from the agricultural machinery technical school and has been assigned to work at our factory. From now on, he’ll be living right across from you.”

“Oh?” The girl looked at Henry Carter with interest and smiled, “So young—about the same age as my little brother.”

“Heh, then I’ll just call you ‘sister’ from now on,” Henry Carter said, going along with her words. “Distant relatives aren’t as good as close neighbors, and close neighbors aren’t as good as the one right across the hall. From now on, I’ll be counting on you to look after me, Sister Xiaocheng.”

“Hahahaha…” Olivia Watson laughed so hard she almost doubled over. “No wonder you’re educated—you’re so witty! By the way, your name is Henry Carter, right? I’m twenty. How old are you?”

“I’m eighteen,” Henry Carter replied.

“One year older than my little brother,” Olivia Watson nodded seriously, correcting her earlier statement. Then she asked warmly, “Have you eaten yet? Today’s Sunday, so the cafeteria served dinner early, and there’s no food left now. I made some sweet potato porridge—do you want some?”

“No need, Olivia Watson,” Mark Newman declined on Henry Carter’s behalf. “We’re taking Henry Carter out for dinner later. Right now, we’re just helping him tidy up his room.”

“Hmm, since when did you get so generous, Fatty?” Olivia Watson said. “Well, go ahead and tidy up. If you need anything, just come over and get it from me.”

“Thanks, Xiaocheng,” Henry Carter said, cupping his hands in thanks. The affectionate address made the girl blush.

Olivia Watson went back to her room. Henry Carter unlocked his own door and went inside. The room was fairly clean, with some junk left behind by the previous occupant scattered on the floor, but nothing of value. Against the wall was a single iron-framed bed, the mattress slightly sagging, but probably not about to break anytime soon. By the window stood a very old writing desk, the kind with two drawers on top and a small cabinet on the side—lopsided and heavy on one end. Next to the desk was a wooden chair with a backrest. That was all the furniture in the room.

On the wall beside the bed hung an outdated movie poster, featuring a beautiful woman flashing a perfect smile at Henry Carter. Henry Carter recognized her—it was Sister Liu in her younger days.

“Let’s put down the luggage and go out to eat,” Henry Carter said. “The room isn’t dirty. I can tidy it up myself when we get back.”

Mark Newman immediately agreed, “Great, let’s go. After a whole afternoon, I’m starving.”

They tossed their luggage onto the single bed, clapped the dust off their hands, and headed out. Although none of them were really privileged kids, they did have a bit of that idle, carefree attitude. Since Henry Carter said he could clean the room himself, they were happy to take it easy.

Back then, not many people had spare money to eat out, so in the entire eastern industrial district, there were only two or three restaurants. Mark Newman and the others gave Henry Carter a ride on their bikes, traveling over a mile before arriving at a small privately-run restaurant called “For the People Canteen,” and went inside.