Chapter 108: Labor Relations Can Turn a Person into a Ghost

But once a bomb disposal expert embarks on this path, they are doomed sooner or later to be blown to pieces—there’s no escaping such a fate.

Even Wei Dong’s performance surpassed that of the secretary. Back among the machines, he could still focus intently, discussing with others the specifications of the vacuum-sealed bags—their dimensions, thickness, and strength.

How to transform imported ethylene pellet raw materials into thin film using the blow molding machine, then fold two sheets into three-sided sealed small bags the size of a business card.

How to maximize the number of bags produced from the same weight of raw material while ensuring quality and strength.

How to arrange transport for the goods—how much can be hauled at one time, and how the manufacturer adjusts the production line’s minimum batch size accordingly.

These were all matters for negotiation and discussion, even requiring demonstrations and explanations right beside the production line machinery.

At this time, the plastic products factory was not particularly dominant; everyone was still exploring the way forward. They regarded this mainland-born, open-minded sales approach as a valuable asset. Even the Japanese technicians on duty at the plant joined in the gestures and exchanges.

Only the secretary followed behind, completely distracted throughout, her face occasionally blooming like a peach blossom, eyes sparkling with subtle allure—in short, she exuded the charm of a coquettish young woman.

Besides, she was inherently inattentive to such work.

She hadn’t even taken the camera factory tasks seriously before.

The familiar local technicians quietly warned the provincial boss that staying in guesthouses or small inns could risk being caught by joint patrols, advising him to lodge at a large hotel instead.

This suddenly jolted Wei Dong awake—yes, yes, he knew that men and women staying in the same hotel had to show a marriage certificate, and in E Chang they had stayed apart. Now, he was utterly blinded by passion.

It was almost a disaster.

But in the open and progressive Yuezhou, where foreign-related hotels were abundant, such checks were generally not conducted.

So, after arranging a dinner costing over a hundred yuan with everyone from the plastic products factory, the two of them returned to the downtown area to find a hotel.

The Swan Hotel was too expensive; other hotels around a hundred yuan were not hard to find, especially since the Guangdong Trade Fair had just ended, leaving many vacancies.

Zhang Lanzhi clearly tried to avoid the situation, doing everything possible to leave only the plastic-bagged clothing luggage at the front desk for storage.

Yet she insisted on going out for a stroll.

It wasn’t about spending money—this sentimental young lady simply wanted to find that feeling of being in love.

Isn’t walking leisurely part of dating?

So she forbade Wei Dong from going to malls or shopping, instead wanting to wander and look around herself.

But she was indeed somewhat unwell; walking for a while made her uncomfortable, so they decided to watch a movie.

Wei Dong, who had never experienced love, was overwhelmed by this flood of sensory impressions. Before he could even taste the bittersweet flavor of romance, he was thrown into the acidic and alkaline extremes.

At that moment, anything was fine—what they watched didn’t matter. As soon as the lights went out in the cinema, hands began to wander.

He knew that forty years later, cinemas would have night-vision surveillance; now, it was impossible.

Unable to contain his excitement to further explore the OL skirt, he was just starting to enjoy the big city cinema, which seemed no different than the factory.

Then, the secretary suddenly attacked him, her pupils dilating in shock, nearly screaming and grabbing the rogue.

She had insisted on selecting a foreign film, only to find out at the start that “Victory Great Escape” was about football. She couldn’t empathize at all, so the entire time she was practicing Wing Chun blocks on Wei Dong.

In the end, she lost terribly from head to toe.

Wei Dong finally understood why those short videos and jokes so enthusiastically recommended stockings.

This tactile sensation could be enjoyed all year round without fatigue.

Blushing deeply, Zhang Lanzhi resisted fiercely, refusing to watch another movie, unable to go shopping.

Luckily, they dawdled back to the hotel and cleverly discovered a music tea lounge beside the lobby, immediately treating it as a treasure to experience.

Originally wanting to delay, she ended up loving it immensely.

They sat in round armchairs, nodding and swaying as they listened to the stage performance, sipping coffee with great feeling.

Wei Dong could listen too, but he thought the environment was too shabby—what was this?

Although he hadn’t experienced it in the previous life, he had seen far too much through developed information channels.

He didn’t even bother to look at the much-praised lobby water feature at the Swan Hotel, nor the shabby rooms costing several hundred yuan.

Today’s hotel charged just over a hundred yuan, with a garish, over-the-top lobby, and the music tea lounge was just a few rattan coffee tables surrounded by chairs, with shiny paper streamers hanging everywhere.

Even though it charged a fee, the backdrop was just white paper with handwritten “so-and-so tea lounge”—even Jiangzhou could have a golden signboard; couldn’t these details be more upscale?

So he was not influenced by the environment to feel any elegance.

Only the singing was tolerable, but he couldn’t bear the singer’s thick eyebrows and red-faced makeup—it was no match for his own secretary’s beauty.

Glancing several times at the fair-skinned, focused face beside him, even though the lounge was full of people, he quietly moved his chair closer and, in the dim light, reached out to embrace her shoulders and touch her legs.

The secretary, fully enjoying the bourgeois atmosphere, nearly spilled her coffee in shock.

This place was much brighter than the cinema.

And there were people all around, many facing each other who could see everything—they weren’t being discreet!

But she dared not make a fuss.

Fortunately, the “salty pig hand” was discreetly hidden enough to be tolerable, so she endured and even tried adjusting her posture to cooperate.

This made Wei Dong immensely pleased.

So this was the experience of black silk stockings generating static electricity.

It was great to have a hand.

He leaned his head, squinted, and nestled into her fragrance, humming softly to the music.

He didn’t care what was being sung; it was just an expression of his own joy.

Zhang Lanzhi listened with surprise, glanced sideways a few times, and gradually relaxed enough to lean against him.

Finally, it was a somewhat pleasant experience.

But after the music tea lounge closed, they had no choice but to return to the room, where she firmly insisted on a truce due to discomfort.

It was then that Wei Dong revealed the typical male mindset at this age, brimming with youthful vigor yet seasoned with forty years of cunning.

“No problem, no problem, just hold me to sleep.”

“Why wear so much? Keep the pantyhose; don’t wrinkle the clothes.”

“I’ll just touch, just look, just here…”

The secretary, unprepared for such advances, was foolishly coaxed along.

She actually knew this would be the outcome; during their earlier stroll, she had blushed and sent Wei Dong to buy contraceptives, only to be shocked when he returned with a large box.

Since the box was labeled “For the Revolutionary Family Planning,” it was clear they spent much of the night tossing and turning without sleep.

At last, Zhang Lanzhi cried in frustration, and Wei Dong sheepishly gave up.

After decades of hunger, even buns and steamed bread could fill the stomach; yet when served a gourmet meal, one could starve to death without eating.

It was like Pigsy eating ginseng fruit—swallowing whole, what experience could there be?

Of course, the familiar result of high intensity and frequency was close intimacy.

The next morning, they awoke entangled, the girl reluctant to separate but still insistently sending Wei Dong to wash up and tidy every corner.

Even though she would face resistance, she was determined to complete the task.

Then she began managing how clothes, shoes, and socks should be worn—stinky ones were forbidden on the bed; basketball shoes and everyday shoes had to be kept separate; underwear had to be changed daily.

The lifelong bachelor found it maddening.

Yet knowing hygiene was now a shared responsibility, he endured and complied.

The happy single life seemed to drift away.

So he focused on work, reserving the nights for retaliation and tidying.

Mornings were spent discussing and adjusting flavors with Master Liao; at noon, playing basketball on the university campus for socializing; afternoons at the plastic products factory, familiarizing with production lines and products; evenings were free.

Zhang Lanzhi staggered to keep up—tasting dishes in the morning, taking photos at noon, preparing dinners in the afternoon, and sipping coffee at the music tea lounge in the evening—thus passing each day fully.

By the sixth day, the machines from the trade fair had already been shipped and were en route; two hundred cameras transported by train had finally arrived.

Even with the relatively good economic conditions of Yuezhou’s universities, the reality of widespread poverty remained unchanged. After about a week’s preparation, the students easily cleared out all two hundred Ikes cameras.

Some with business acumen bought ten at once, then resold them at a profit elsewhere.

Much like the oil merchants’ approach.

Indeed, universities across the country exhibited different sales characteristics.

Wei Dong, along with twelve university students familiarized with the area, also visited Master Liao’s wife’s grocery store to establish a base for future financial transactions. This sales team would surely expand to selling snacks—likely the main force, Wei Dong guessed.

Because a single piece of local meat snack cost about ten cents, still considered expensive for many consumers in central, western, and northern regions.

But in Yuezhou, acceptance was relatively higher.

The secretary finally begged, “Let’s leave early, please. I’d feel blessed to rest on the train.”

By then, the large box of contraceptives bought on the second day was already half used, scattered about.

And it was a hundred-piece pack!

Unexpectedly, Wei Dong spotted a ticket sales service at the hotel.

Showing a work ID and letter of introduction, one could indeed buy plane tickets from Yuezhou to Shanghai-Hai, Zhejiang, Pingjing, Jiangzhou, and Rongdu!

Flying to Shanghai-Hai cost only 107 yuan!

Compared to Swan Hotel’s room prices, this fare was a bargain.

Without hesitation, Wei Dong chose this never-before-experienced mode of transport.

Zhang Lanzhi was initially delighted to fly home but then realized they wouldn’t rest that night—her feelings turned bittersweet and conflicted.

The two country bumpkins, after Wei Dong’s repeated reminders and urgings, arrived at the airport three to four hours early, wandering the terminal excitedly.

When they finally boarded the Trident aircraft via the stair truck, they first asked a staff member to take a group photo, then took selfies with each other.

Sweetly, they posed in their seats.

But after takeoff, Wei Dong realized there was no security check at boarding, and the flight attendants rolled out a cart laden with roast pork, dim sum, roast goose, braised sea cucumber with scallions…

Zhang Lanzhi, flipping through photos developed recently, caught the aroma and immediately started twisting and turning her neck longingly.

She whispered to Wei Dong, “Is this still paid for?”

Shaking his head, Wei Dong’s eyes widened—not because of the food, but because behind the cart were beer and baijiu, offered to passengers!

As an old security guard, Wei Dong knew the plane was a special space where passengers should avoid drinking alcohol that could lead to drunkenness.

This was outrageous—absurdity upon absurdity, reaching extremes!

But with the spirit of “since we’re here,” and knowing the ticket price must include meals, they had to have a couple of drinks.

Thus, Wei Dong and Zhang Lanzhi’s first flight involved each having a glass of Moutai.

Refills were available!

Indeed, the airline reportedly signed a long-term contract in ’75, providing only this type of baijiu.

Early on, they could even boast a whole bottle.

Most absurdly, after eating and drinking, a flight attendant came around with a tray of cigarettes, asking if anyone wanted one.

These were the specially made Huazi cigarettes for the airline, contracted in ’80, limited to five per person.

Zhang Lanzhi didn’t cause Wei Dong to drop his jaw.

They stared in astonishment as smoke quickly filled the cabin—what was going on? Did the new ventilation system keep replenishing the air?

Then, perhaps due to cabin pressure, Zhang Lanzhi suddenly blushed, looked a bit nervous, crossed her legs, but quickly brightened with a smile.

After a moment’s hesitation, she whispered triumphantly into Wei Dong’s ear, “It came…”

She couldn’t help but laugh heartily.

Look at what a business trip had done to the secretary.

They were both nearly driven mad.