Chapter 9 Once I catch you, I'll do it again // You once more
Two days later, Meng Lingxuan responded. When the call came, Su Mu was squatting down watering the potted green plants.
He shook the water droplets off his hands before taking the cup.
Meng Lingxuan's voice came through a slightly noisy background, but his tone was cheerful. He said the factory was short of a warehouse manager, the job wasn't heavy, just keeping accounts and checking goods, and the place was clean. He asked if he was willing to come anytime.
Su Mu thought it was acceptable.
He brought it up at the dinner table. A simple meal of three dishes and a soup, the stir-fried kale stems crunching between his teeth. After he finished speaking, the table fell silent for a few seconds.
Su's mother put down her bowl first. She looked at Su Mu and said, "Wouldn't it be better to rest at home for a while? Your body is different from others now. What if you get hurt at the factory?"
Her gaze involuntarily fell on Su Mu's still flat stomach, which was covered by loose loungewear and nothing could be seen there.
Su Mu picked up a piece of food with his chopsticks, chewed it a few times, and swallowed it: "If I stay here any longer, mushrooms will practically grow out of my bones."
“Xuanzi said that the job is easy, it's just sitting and counting. You and Dad are both busy with your own things during the day, and I'm the only one with nothing to do, just staring blankly at the yard all day.”
“The work is easy, but there will always be times when you need to move around. Just be aware of that, don’t push yourself too hard, and don’t overwork yourself,” Su’s father said. “In a few days, I’ll take you to meet someone.”
"Who?" Su Mu asked.
“Dr. Li.” Su’s father uttered the name in a flat tone, “He’s the one who delivered my baby back then. Although he could have retired, he still sees patients now.”
Phoenix Village is actually quite large, with houses of varying ages scattered along a gentle slope, cut into sections by fields, ponds, and crisscrossing paths.
There are few families with the surname Su in the village, just a handful here and there. The most prominent and widespread surname here is Meng. Their ancestral hall is the most magnificent and the oldest. When they hold weddings or funerals, the banquets can be held from one end of the village to the other.
Su Mu's house is a detached two-story building with a small yard. The afternoon sun shines in at an angle, casting latticed shadows on the cement floor.
After cleaning up the dishes, Su's mother wiped her hands on her apron and said to Su Mu, who was curled up on the sofa scrolling through his phone, "If you're free this afternoon, go to your aunt's house and pick up the block of tofu I ordered. We'll fry it for dinner tonight."
"Take your dad's little electric scooter, and go slowly."
My aunt's house is at the other end of the village, near that old lotus pond.
Su Mu rode his somewhat old blue electric bike slowly along the sun-bleached village road. The tires crunched over the gravel, and on both sides of the road were fields with neatly trimmed rice stubble after the harvest.
A breeze blew in his face, carrying the dry smell of sun-dried soil and a faint, acrid smell of burning straw in the distance. It made his hair flutter and his shirt billow.
My aunt was hanging out the freshly washed bed sheets to dry in her yard. The colorful sheets were rustling in the wind.
She looked up and saw Su Mu park his bike and walk in. She was stunned for a moment, then her face lit up with a delighted smile. She wiped her wet hands on her apron and hurried over to greet him: "Oh, Little Mu! What brings you back?"
She looked Su Mu up and down: "Weren't you doing just fine in City B? Your mom said that job was very respectable, so why did you suddenly come back?"
Su Mu raised his hand and touched the back of his neck: "It's nothing, I just... came back to relax and take a break. I've been cooped up in the city for too long, it's so boring."
"My mom asked me to come and get the tofu, saying it's freshly made by you."
"Right, right, tofu, I almost forgot." Auntie changed the subject and forgot what she was talking about before. She nodded repeatedly, turned around and walked into the house, muttering as she went, "I just made the braising liquid this morning, it's still very tender. Wait here, I'll pack it for you."
She deftly took out a stainless steel basin, lined it with a clean cloth, scooped up the square, snow-white tofu, carefully placed it in, and then ladled some water over it to soak.
Su Mu watched her busy figure and wanted to help her, but his aunt told him to go pick some vegetables to take back.
Su Mu's maternal grandmother had given birth to many children in her generation, but of those who survived, only his mother and aunt remained nearby. They didn't marry far away, so they could visit each other every now and then and look after one another.
The tofu was carefully tied in a plastic bag and hung on a small hook on the front of the electric scooter.
Su Mu said goodbye to his aunt and rode back.
The evening breeze was a bit cool, and it felt nice on my back. Wisps of smoke rose from the rooftops of the village houses, and the aroma of food gradually filled the air.
The next morning, Su Mu went to the town's industrial park at the address given by Meng Lingxuan.
The factory gate is quite new, but the electric retractable gate is closed, leaving only a small side door open.
In the guardhouse next door, an older man was looking at his phone, which was propped up on the windowsill, and his fingers were rapidly tapping on the screen.
As Su Mu approached, he could hear him shouting, "Thanks for the rocket, my dear friend! Thanks a lot! Everyone, please follow me, let's continue our conversation from yesterday..."
Su Mu waited for a while, and seeing that the uncle hadn't noticed him, he had no choice but to bend his finger and gently tap on the open window glass.
The uncle then looked up from his phone screen, saw Su Mu, paused for a moment, then grinned and said into the phone, "Family, wait a moment, someone's coming," before moving the phone to the side, tilting the camera to one side.
"Uncle, you're so trendy! You're even doing live streams at work?" Su Mu couldn't help but chuckle.
The gatekeeper chuckled twice, looked at him for several seconds, and then tentatively spoke, his voice thick with local accent: "You are... Su Dezhong's son, right?"
Su Mu nodded: "Yes, you know my dad?"
“It’s more than just knowing each other,” the uncle slapped his thigh, his voice becoming louder, “Your dad and I were elementary school classmates, in the same class.”
He leaned closer: "I thought it looked just like him. The eyebrows, the chin, it's like a carbon copy of your dad when he was young. But if you look closely, the bridge of your nose, the fair skin, that's from your mom. Your mom was a famous beauty in our neighborhood back then. Hey, you seem to have picked your best features!"
The security guard asked, "Are you looking for someone? Who are you looking for?"
"Looking for Factory Director Meng," Su Mu replied.
"Director Meng, okay, I'll give him a call and let him know." The uncle picked up the old-fashioned telephone on the table, dialed a short number, said a few words into the receiver, responded with "uh-huh" and "yeah," and then looked up at Su Mu.
After hanging up the phone, he stood up, took a bunch of keys off the wall, and jingled them: "Let's go, I'll take you there. The office building is the one in front, white, three stories."
The older man led him through a small gate next to the electric sliding gate into the factory area. The cement road was very clean, and some common green shrubs were neatly planted on both sides, with a thin layer of dust on their leaves.
Not far away, bundles of timber and pre-cut bed frame parts were neatly stacked on an open space, emitting a rich, dry forest aroma.
Two magnolia trees stand at the entrance of the office building. Their dark green leaves are thick and glossy, and they bloom with several large white flowers that smell sweet to the point of being cloying.
The factory manager's office is at the far end of the second floor.
The door was open, and the sound of a phone call could be heard from inside. The uncle called out from the doorway, "Factory Manager, the person has arrived," and a voice responded from inside.
Su Mu walked in and saw a man in his fifties putting down his phone. He was stocky, wearing a slightly worn polo shirt, his hair was neatly combed, and his face was five or six parts similar to Meng Lingxuan's, except that his eyebrows and eyes were more pronounced, and his nasolabial folds were more pronounced, exuding a sense of worldly wisdom and composure.
This is Meng Lingxuan's uncle.
Factory Director Meng stood up, walked around the desk piled with folders, and came over with a smile on his face. But the smile was in his eyes, and his gaze as he looked at Su Mu was direct and friendly, like that of an elder.
“Xiao Su, right? Lingxuan mentioned it to me. Sit down, sit down.” He pointed to the row of black faux leather sofas against the wall.
Su Muyi sat down. The sofa was a bit hard, so she left a seat between them. She picked up a cigarette case from the coffee table, took out a cigarette, thought for a moment, and then put it down.
"The work isn't complicated, so don't feel pressured." He got straight to the point, speaking slowly with a slight local accent. "You've seen our factory; it mainly processes beds, both solid wood and particleboard. Your workstation is in the office area over there."
He gestured with his chin toward a certain direction outside the window: "So it's a girl. She's doing a good job. She went home to have a baby a while ago, and her maternity leave is quite long, so this position became vacant. Lingxuan said you wanted to work for a while, which is fine. I know you young people now, you call it a gap year."
Su Mu thought to himself, the people in their village are really too fashionable.
The factory manager picked up a stainless steel thermos on the table, blew away the foam, and took a sip: "Your job is to help organize invoices, delivery slips, and other paper documents, categorize them, and enter them into the computer. Sometimes you also help with typing documents and running errands to check the numbers with the workshop."
“Young man, you’re quick-witted and will pick this up fast. As for the specifics, there are two experienced accountants over there; just ask them.”
Su Mu nodded and said, "Okay, I will get familiar with it as soon as possible."
"Okay," Director Meng put the thermos back on the table, "I'll take you there now to show you the place."
The office area is on the second floor of another building. It is a bright, open-plan room with seven or eight desks placed by the window, some of which are piled high with ledgers and folders.
The air was filled with the coolness of air conditioning, as well as the smell of paper and ink.
Factory Director Meng led him to a relatively clean table on the inner side. On the table was only a slightly old computer monitor, a pen holder, and a stack of blank forms.
"This is your seat." He patted the table. "Accountant Wang will tell you the computer password later. There's nothing urgent today, so you can familiarize yourself with the environment and see how the previous documents were organized."
Su Mu said "okay" again.
After giving his instructions, Director Meng turned and went back to his office. Su Mu pulled out a chair and sat down, the leather seat making a slight scraping sound. He reached out and pressed the power button on the computer tower; the fan hummed, and the screen lit up with a pale blue light.
After two days, Su Mu got used to it.
Because we're from the same place, even distant connections can be considered relatives.
Accountant Wang knew Su Mu and said he did very well on his college entrance exam.
The pace of life in a factory is completely different from that in an urban office building.
There were no endless meetings, no constantly flashing instant messaging software, and no invisible sense of tension urging people to keep moving forward.
The machine hums from morning till night, but it's a regular and steady background noise that doesn't bother you.
His work was indeed as Director Meng had said, not complicated.
Most of them are repetitive tasks that require patience and meticulousness.
I sorted stacks of delivery slips with blue overprints by date, checked the amounts with a calculator, and then categorized them into different folders; I smoothed out each approved invoice, lightly wrote the voucher number on the back with a pencil, and then pasted it onto thick accounting vouchers; occasionally, I needed to print a few simple contracts or notices, using those 1990s-style Word templates.
Most of the workers in the workshop are from nearby villages and towns. They are loud and outspoken. When they gather in the canteen at lunchtime, their noise can lift the roof off.
The office was much quieter, except for the sounds of keyboards clicking and papers turning, and the occasional conversation between two middle-aged female accountants, whose topics revolved around vegetable prices, their children's monthly exam results, and the TV dramas they had been watching recently.
I get off work at 5 p.m. every day.
The machines will gradually stop, and workers will emerge from the workshop, chatting and laughing, heading towards the carport or the factory gate.
Su Mu turned off the computer, tidied up the desktop, and put the unfinished invoices into the drawer and locked them.
As you step out of the office building, the western sky is often still adorned with a large expanse of sunset glow, the colors transitioning from golden yellow to orange-red, and then tinged with a faint purplish-gray.
Time flows quietly like a slow and steady river, carrying the dust of sawdust and the scent of dry paper, passing by Su Mu's fingertips and before his eyes.
There were no sudden phone calls, no emergencies that required immediate attention, and no emails or reports that needed to be carefully worded.
This vast, empty space, where he could almost hear his own breathing, initially made Su Mu feel somewhat uncomfortable, and his fingertips always wanted to grasp something.
But after a while, Su Mu would lean back in his chair, gazing out the window at the unchanging factory rooftops and the green fields in the distance, and would occasionally drift off into a daze for a long time, until Accountant Wang next door would call him and ask him to hand over a stapler.
A few days later, the old forklift operator who had worked in the factory for three or four years suddenly resigned. It was said that he went to a bigger factory in the south with a fellow villager, where the pay was higher.
The workshop director complained to Factory Manager Meng that they couldn't find a certified person on short notice, and a bunch of bed boards and joists waiting to be transferred were blocking the passage, delaying the subsequent painting process.
Su Mu happened to be passing by with a stack of newly printed production orders when he heard it.
He paused, his gaze lingering on the tall forklift for a few seconds. He took two steps forward: "Um... how about I give it a try? I have a license."
The workshop director and Factory Director Meng turned to look at him at the same time, their eyes showing the same surprise.
Factory Director Meng raised an eyebrow but didn't speak immediately. The workshop foreman looked Su Mu up and down, scrutinizing his thin frame and overly refined face with its thin-rimmed glasses, his face full of distrust: "Little Su, this iron thing could cause an accident. Are you really sure you can handle it?"
Su Mu took out his phone and nodded: "I have a certificate. Look, I passed the exam."
Factory Director Meng glanced over and said, "Okay, then you give it a try. Be careful, take your time, no rush."
Su Mu rolled up his shirt sleeves, revealing his slender, fair forearms. He walked over to the forklift, first circling it to check the tires and forks, his movements not particularly skilled.
He then opened the car door, sat in the driver's seat which was slightly too large for him, and gently turned the knob. The diesel engine emitted a deep, powerful roar, and the car vibrated slightly.
The security guard had wandered over sometime earlier, holding up his ever-present phone with the camera pointed in their direction, and making clicking noises: "Oh my, our office's handsome young man is about to drive a forklift, everyone, look at that..."
Su Mu steadied himself and slowly pushed the control lever. The forklift made a slight hydraulic sound, and slowly but steadily backed up a little to make room, then turned and aimed at the neatly stacked bed frame on the ground. The forks lowered, steadily inserting into the gap of the bottom plank, then lifted, smoothly raising the entire stack of timber several tens of centimeters off the ground.
Sunlight fell on his slightly furrowed brows and focused profile, and on his well-defined hands gripping the steering wheel.
After Su Mu finished unloading the goods, drove the forklift back, parked it, turned off the engine, and jumped out, Factory Director Meng walked over, patted him on the shoulder—a light but firm pat. "Not bad, you've got the hang of it. Here's the deal: from now on, once you've finished your work in the office, if the workshop needs you, or if you're free, you can come and do this. The salary… I'll calculate it separately for you, as temporary work, how about that?"
Su Mu took off his glasses, wiped a bit of dust off the lenses with the corner of his shirt, and put them back on: "Factory Manager, I can do this all by myself, it's quite interesting."
The factory manager said, "Okay."
The next day, Su Mu rode his electric bike to work as usual. He had just parked his bike outside the guardhouse window and hadn't even had a chance to say hello when the guard leaned halfway out excitedly: "Little Su, Little Su, look! You're famous! You're really famous!"
Su Mu was taken aback by what he said before he could see the phone screen. A video was playing automatically, with the security guard's distinctive, exaggeratedly laughing voice in the background: "...Look at our factory's new handsome driver, isn't his skill reliable?"
The video shows him driving that bright yellow forklift and moving timber yesterday afternoon.
The camera angle was a bit shaky, obviously taken by the security guard who was holding up his phone and following him. But in the picture, his profile was handsome, he was wearing a light blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his brows were slightly furrowed, and he was focused on looking ahead, controlling a series of actions.
The video has over 100,000 likes, and the number is still slowly increasing.
The numbers in the comments section are even more astonishing.
The middle-aged man scrolled down rapidly, and comments popped up one after another.
—With looks like that, you're telling me you're driving a forklift?
—This young man has such a face and hands, he could easily be a male model, but he's stuck driving a forklift in a factory... What a waste of talent.
—That's why I never see handsome guys around; turns out they've all gone to work in factories.
—Take more pictures, uncle! I love watching them! Driving a forklift while wearing glasses—the contrast is amazing!
—Does anyone else think he looks so focused and sexy when he's doing this?
As Su Mu read through the list, his expression gradually shifted from initial bewilderment to an indescribable complexity.
The security guard, completely oblivious to his complex emotions, said, "Look at this traffic, this buzz! You should hurry up and register a Douyin account! We can make collaborative videos together. I'll film you driving a forklift, and you can show your face in front of the camera, say a few words, and it'll definitely be more popular than me broadcasting it myself. Then you can take some ads and earn some pocket money. Isn't that a great thing?"
The security guard got more and more excited as he talked, and started planning: "How about we make a series called... The Daily Life of the Factory's Heartthrob?"
The doctor said that two days might not be enough and that he needed to see a doctor.
The man nodded repeatedly: "That's the important thing. Health is the priority. We can film the video anytime."
The clinic was a small, independent two-story building next to the town's health center. Dr. Li's clinic was in the innermost room on the second floor. Dr. Li was a kind-looking old lady with gray hair that was neatly combed and wearing reading glasses.
She examined Su Mu slowly but with unusual steadiness; the cold stethoscope tip against his skin sent shivers down her spine.
After the examination, she took off her stethoscope and wrote something in the medical record book, her tone calm: "The child is relatively stable, and all developmental indicators are within the normal range."
"However, you're a celebrity in our town now. You're young and in good health, so it's okay to move around occasionally. But once you're a little further along in your pregnancy, you absolutely must not touch that forklift anymore. It's too jarring and unsafe."
Su Mu was buttoning his shirt with his head down, and obediently said, "Okay."
As he left the clinic, his phone vibrated in his pocket, but he deliberately didn't answer it.
After dinner, Su Mu's parents went out for a walk. After taking a shower, Su Mu lay in bed staring at his phone for a short while.
Jiang Ran's voice came from the other end of the phone: "Su Mu, you liar?"
Su Mu pointed downwards, following the other person's train of thought, and said, "...Yes, I am a liar."
This frank, almost shameless admission seemed to choke Jiang Ran on the other end, followed by even greater anger: "Don't let me catch you!"
Su Mu's voice was a little strange, but more provocative: "Hmm... So what if you caught me? Young Master Jiang, that was my first time, okay? You didn't lose out."
You weren't like this before.
Su Mu: "Well, what was I like before? You couldn't find me. I was in a... secret place."
Jiang Ran thought that Su Mu used to be very well-behaved and obedient, unlike this hateful one. She hid him so he couldn't find him.
Jiang Ran found Su Mu's voice somewhat alluring, but since the conversation had already veered in this direction, he also became angry: "...Once I catch you, I'll do it to you again! I'll make sure you can't even get out of bed!"
Even a rabbit will bite when cornered.
Crude, blunt, and threatening with a mixture of violence and eroticism.
This was the first time Su Mu had heard it from Jiang Ran.
Then, a strange, physiological throbbing sensation, without warning, crept up along my tailbone, and my lower abdomen seemed to tighten as well.
Jiang Ran seemed to be saying something on the other end of the phone, but her voice was blurred into background noise.
Su Mu stopped listening.
He adjusted his posture slightly.
A sense of emptiness and exhaustion washed over her afterward. Su Mu hung up the phone with a guilty conscience, blocked the number, and then wiped her fair and slender fingers with a tissue.
It's normal for a pregnant woman's body to have needs.
It's perfectly normal to use the child's father to satisfy one's needs, after all, she's only slept with him.
However, Jiang Ran must never know about this.
A note from the author:
This touches on my area of expertise. [doge][doge]
Young Master Jiang had no idea that when he was angry, his wife used his… [glasses]
This little wooden thing is cute.
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