“Robert King is a natural-born troublemaker. No one knows how many female workers he’s messed around with at the factory. It’s only because he hasn’t been back much these past two years that things have quieted down a bit. When he was at the Andu office, several women from both the spinning and weaving workshops suffered in silence. My sister works at the factory hospital, and she told me she knows of at least three or four female workers who had abortions, and even a newly assigned teacher at the children’s school went through the same thing.” John Foster clearly knew even more, and his tone grew heavier.

“That’s just a case of one willing to hit and one willing to take the beating.” David Carter said indifferently.

“Hmph, David, you don’t understand. For the average female worker in the factory, if the young master sets his sights on you, do you dare refuse? He gives you a little benefit—like switching from three shifts to a permanent day shift—and plenty of people will take the bait. Or he just gives the workshop director a hint, and you’ll end up with the hardest, most exhausting jobs.” Charles Wilson interjected. “You think this factory is just like your police bureau?”

David Carter opened his mouth, but didn’t say anything. How is it any different? The police bureau probably isn’t any cleaner than the factory. He’d taken the fall for Captain Lee in that hit-and-run case. It was just a normal traffic accident, the victim wasn’t seriously hurt, and the unit had agreed to cover the costs, so he shouldn’t have been implicated at all. But in the end, he was quietly kicked out of the criminal police team. Even Captain Lee himself couldn’t explain it clearly, only saying that Coach Bolton thought David Carter was his man and insisted on making an example out of him. Hmph, the two of them were fighting for the team leader position, and in the end, he was the one who got sold out.

When he got the news, David Carter was furious, but he’d already taken the blame for Captain Lee, and there was no way to turn things around. What roles Captain Lee and Coach Bolton had played in all this, David Carter still didn’t know, nor did he want to find out. In front of Captain Lee, he could only put on a dejected face, until Captain Lee swore up and down that he’d get him transferred back within a year or two.

Life is like a play, and a play is like life. David Carter had read this line in novels many times, but this time he truly felt it himself, and it seemed he was playing the role of the pitiful one.

As the song “Dream Awakening Moment” started playing, people in the ballroom flocked to the dance floor. Charles Wilson and John Foster had already gone off to find their targets, leaving only Philip Warren and David Carter standing idly in the corner. But even standing in the corner, David Carter knew he was the center of attention—anyone who could get Robert King to come over and greet him was bound to draw looks.

“David, why aren’t you asking someone to dance? What, your standards too high now? Think there’s no one good enough in our textile factory?” A rough, slightly hoarse voice called out from the side.

David Carter looked over and quickly greeted him, “Brother Paul, not at all! I just got back, haven’t been around in ages, hardly recognize anyone. Just standing here to rest a bit. What about you, Brother Paul, are you on duty tonight?”

Paul Mason was the head of security at the textile factory. Five or six years ago, David Carter had given Paul Mason plenty of trouble. After David Carter left, Daniel Carter took over, and the Zhao family had plenty of dealings with the security department.

But things were different now. Once David Carter got into the police academy, the Zhao family’s reputation soared, especially after David Carter was assigned back to Jiangkow after graduation. The situation was naturally different. The former troublemaker was now a police officer, and for an internal security department like the factory’s, which was under the guidance of the police, there was even a bit of a subordinate relationship.

“Yeah, it’s the weekend, so I have to come check things out. Otherwise, there are always some clueless punks looking to cause trouble.” Paul Mason was a lean man in his forties, a former soldier who’d been assigned to the factory’s security department after leaving the army.

“We’re all factory people—what trouble could there be?” David Carter said dismissively.

“That’s not for sure. Our club’s dance hall only charges one yuan per ticket, and it’s open to outsiders. There are lots of female workers, and those punks from Jiangmiao Street love to hang around here. The real worry is if they run into our own hotheads from the factory.” Paul Mason shook his head. “I heard from Charles that you’ve been transferred back to the Jiangmiao police station? Heh, that’s great. With you here tonight, I can relax.”

“Heh, Brother Paul, what are you saying? This is your turf. I’m just here for a stroll, might leave in a bit. I doubt anyone would be dumb enough to cause trouble with you around.”

David Carter flattered him, and Paul Mason was polite in return, so David Carter played along.

“All right, you guys have fun. I’ll go take a look around.” Paul Mason smiled and walked off.

“How come Paul Mason is so polite these days?” David Carter muttered.

“Heh, David, it depends on who you are. Has he ever paid attention to me? I stand here and he acts like I don’t exist!” Philip Warren said indignantly. “That bootlicker’s got the higher-ups wrapped around his finger. I hear he’s on good terms with your station chief too. He doesn’t bother with ordinary folks.”

David Carter didn’t respond. It was the same everywhere these days. As he was thinking, Philip Warren suddenly called out, “David, look, Grace Collins and the others are here.”