The next morning, before the mist had even dissipated, wisps of smoke began to rise from the chimney of "Late Autumn Food Workshop." Old Zhao was already at the baking room, chopping pine wood into even pieces with a wood-chopping knife. Flames licked the oven walls, preheating the oven to the perfect temperature. The air was filled with the faint scent of pine and the lingering sweet aroma of yesterday's pastries, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

Lin Wanqiu had just wiped the wooden workbench in the workshop clean when Zhang Lan, carrying a blue cloth bag, walked in with light steps. Today, she was wearing a faded floral shirt, her hair was combed slicked back, and she had a forced smile on her face. As soon as she entered, she called out loudly, "Wanqiu, I'm here! Look at me, I got up early on purpose, just so I wouldn't be late for work."

Lin Wanqiu looked up at her, her gaze calm and unwavering: "Sister-in-law, you've come at the right time. Come with me to see the rules of the workshop first, and then try out the work." She turned and walked to the wooden board in the corner, on which were written densely with rules and regulations in red paint, each one particularly eye-catching. "Read them once and remember them clearly. These are the bottom lines for working in the workshop, and none of them can be broken."

Zhang Lan leaned closer, her eyes scanning the words as she muttered to herself: "Arrive at dawn and leave at dusk; two cents deducted for each late arrival; no eating in the production area, no taking flour or sesame seeds without permission; knead the dough until it develops gluten, and make sure the filling is even; any leaks will result in having to redo the entire batch..." The more she read, the more uneasy she felt. These rules were much stricter than those of the production team, but when she thought of her daily wage of five cents and the meals provided, she swallowed her dissatisfaction and smiled, saying, "I'll remember it clearly, I'll remember it clearly. It's all for the good of the workshop, I'll definitely abide by it."

“It’s not just certain, it’s a must.” Lin Wanqiu’s tone became more serious as she pointed to the flour and water on the cutting board. “Today, we’ll try kneading the dough first. Widow Li has already prepared the basic dough. What you need to do is knead the dough until it can be stretched into a thin but unbroken membrane. You need to knead five of them within an hour. After that, you’ll use them to make peach shortbread dough. They must be round and the same size. Not even a fraction off.”

Looking at the heavy bowl of dough on the cutting board, Zhang Lan felt a little apprehensive, but she still rolled up her sleeves and picked up the dough to knead it. She was usually lazy when doing chores at her in-laws' house, kneading the dough only three or five times before finishing. Now, after kneading for a short while, her arms began to ache, and sweat beaded on her forehead. After kneading for half an hour, she secretly glanced at Lin Wanqiu and saw that the other was counting sesame seeds. She slowed down her movements, giving it a cursory rub, hoping to get away with it.

"Stop." Lin Wanqiu suddenly spoke, her voice tinged with coldness. She walked over, picked up the dough Zhang Lan had kneaded, and with a gentle pull of her fingers, the dough tore apart instantly, lacking any gluten whatsoever. "Is this the dough you kneaded? It hasn't even reached the most basic level of gluten development. If you use it to make peach shortbread, it will only crumble into crumbs after baking. If you want to coast along, you can leave now."

Zhang Lan's face flushed red, both ashamed and angry, but she dared not show it. She could only grit her teeth and say, "I didn't use enough force. I'll knead it again, and I'm sure I can knead it well." She picked up the dough again and this time dared not be lazy. She kneaded it with all her might, but her arms were sore and swollen that her wrists were shaking. She managed to knead five doughs in an hour, but none of them could be stretched into a membrane.

Lin Wanqiu didn't say anything more, but simply placed the dough that Widow Li had kneaded in front of her, and gently pulled it. The dough stretched into a translucent film, so thin that you could see the light through it: "This is what's considered qualified. You didn't meet the standard today. Try again this afternoon. If it still doesn't work, you don't need to come back."

Looking at the membrane, Zhang Lan felt both envious and resentful, but could only reply, "Okay, I'll definitely massage it properly this afternoon."

At lunchtime, the villagers from the workshop sat around in the courtyard, holding rough porcelain bowls filled with fragrant corn porridge, stir-fried vegetables, and two freshly baked peach shortbreads. Wang Erzhu was enjoying his meal when he saw Zhang Lan dawdling and said with a smile, "Sister-in-law, hurry up and eat! These peach shortbreads are delicious, they'll be gone if you wait too long."

Zhang Lan picked up the peach shortbread and took a bite when she heard Lin Wanqiu's voice: "You have half an hour for lunch. After you finish eating, you need to go to the warehouse to help Zhao Laoshuan organize the ingredients, pack the flour by weight, and sift the sesame seeds clean so there are no impurities." Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn't even allowed to rest while eating, but looking at the peach shortbread in her bowl, she still held back.

In the afternoon, while organizing the warehouse, Zhang Lan was even more flustered. Zhao Laoshuan placed a scale in front of her, demanding that each bag of flour weigh exactly ten jin (5 kg), not a liang (0.5 kg) more or less. She rarely used a scale, and after several weighings, she was still inaccurate, either half a jin too much or three liang (150 g) too little, and she was sweating profusely with anxiety. Watching from the side, Zhao Laoshuan couldn't help but say, "Comrade Zhang, be careful. This flour was bought with money; even a little bit off won't do. If it's sent to the county food factory and they don't pass the inspection, it will ruin the reputation of our 'Late Autumn Food Workshop'."

Zhang Lan was even more annoyed, but she still patiently weighed the flour again. After finally finishing filling the container with flour, she started sifting the sesame seeds. Finding it troublesome, she quickly sifted them a couple of times and was about to bag them when Lin Wanqiu caught her red-handed. Lin Wanqiu picked up the sifted sesame seeds and poured them into her palm; there were still many small pebbles mixed in. "If these pebbles get into the sesame cakes, customers will find them hard to chew. Who will buy our pastries then? Now sift these sesame seeds again until there isn't a single impurity."

Looking at the pile of sesame seeds, Zhang Lan finally couldn't hold back her anger: "Wanqiu, are you deliberately making things difficult for me? They're just some pebbles, what's the big deal? Why are you making such a fuss?"

Lin Wanqiu's eyes turned cold: "Making things difficult for you? I'm responsible for the workshop and for the villagers. If you get paid, you have to do your job well. If you can't even do this little thing right, why should you get paid?" She paused, her voice filled with disappointment, "Sister-in-law, I know your family isn't doing well either, and you want to find work to supplement your income, but you have to show some work ethic. I can overlook the times you and my mother bullied me, but in the workshop, only the capable can stay. There are no special treatments."

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