A glass of wine, a heartfelt voice, a person returning home under the moon
Saturday arrived in a flash. After weeks of intense work, Project Chief Engineer Zhang Xiao invited everyone in the engineering department to a dinner to relax and unwind. The proposal was met with enthusiastic response.
The dinner was held at a specialty restaurant not far from the project office. Over a dozen people from the engineering department, from Chief Engineer Zhang Xiao, Manager Zhao Xiaotao, and Deputy Manager Feng Chang, who was in charge of the beam yard, to several veteran construction workers and newcomers like Lan Tongtong, gathered around a large table. The atmosphere was a stark contrast to the usual tense atmosphere of the construction site; it felt unusually lively.
The food was plentiful, and beer was brought in by the case. Lan Tongtong, who didn't drink, just ordered a drink and sat quietly in a corner, listening to her old colleagues chat about everything from engineering challenges to family matters.
After three rounds of drinks, the atmosphere became increasingly lively. Feng Chang, the deputy director of the Engineering Department, a ruddy-faced, cheerful man from Northeast China in his forties, approached Lan Tongtong, glass in hand.
"Xiao Lan! Come on, relax today, don't be so restrained!" Feng Chang's voice was loud and enthusiastic, "We engineers can't do without drinking! In the future, whether it's socializing or coordinating relationships, we'll need alcohol. We're all family today, so it's okay to drink a little! When I was your age, I could still climb the formwork after three drinks!"
The colleagues around him also started to make a fuss: "Yes, Xiaolan, drink a little!" "Minister Feng is toasting, we must give him face!" "Just one glass, just for your sake!"
Lan Tongtong looked at Feng Chang's sincere (or perhaps irresistible) smile, and the good-natured cheering of her colleagues, and felt it was hard to refuse. She remembered Brother Mo's words about "fitting in," and thought about the recent shift in everyone's attitude towards her. After much hesitation, she finally mustered the courage to pour half a glass of beer into her glass.
"Minister Feng, I... I really don't know how to drink. This is just one glass, to you and all the seniors. Thank you for your care!" Lan Tongtong stood up and, imitating the others, tilted her head back and took a big sip. The cold liquid, with a bitter and sharp taste, slid down her throat, causing her to frown.
"Great! That's great!" Feng Chang laughed and drank the wine in his glass with satisfaction.
That glass of wine seemed to flip a switch. Perhaps it was the alcohol, or perhaps it was the atmosphere, but Lan Tongtong felt her tense nerves relax. She began chatting with her colleagues, listening to them recount their projects and the oddities they'd encountered, and she gradually opened up.
She talked about her elderly and sick parents in her hometown, her regret for not being able to enter the design institute, her helplessness when she first came to the construction site and the grievances when she was given difficulties... These words that were weighing on her heart naturally flowed out in such a relaxed and almost "heart-revealing" occasion.
Colleagues also shared their own challenges. Some had rebellious children whose academic performance was a major concern; others had been separated from their wives for extended periods, relying solely on phone calls to maintain their relationship; others were burdened with heavy mortgage payments and couldn't afford to slack off. These men, usually resolute and omnipotent on the construction site, now revealed the tenderness and pressures of being fathers, husbands, and sons.
Lan Tongtong discovered for the first time that each of these seemingly straightforward colleagues had their own stories and burdens. The construction site wasn't just a place to sweat; it was also a stage for the livelihoods and dreams of a group of people. Over these glasses of wine and casual conversations, the distance between them seemed to have narrowed.
The dinner didn't end until after 1:00 AM. Lan Tongtong, despite having only had a little over one drink, was already feeling dizzy, weak in the knees, and hot in the cheeks. Zhang Xiao arranged for a colleague who hadn't drunk to drive everyone home.
The construction site at night was quiet and empty, a world away from the bustle of the day. A cool breeze cleared Lan Tongtong's mind a little. Sitting in the car, watching the streetlights whizz by outside the window, she felt an indescribable feeling. There was the relief of release, the trepidation of sharing, and, most importantly, a deeper understanding of the colleagues who had worked side by side.
Returning to her sparsely furnished dorm, she collapsed onto her bed, her body exhausted and her mind a bit tangled. Today, she hadn't relied on "Brother Mo's" connections, but simply as a member of the engineering department, Lan Tongtong, she had integrated into the group. This sense of identity, earned through her own efforts, felt particularly genuine, even with a hint of alcohol.
Back in the dormitory, the brief high brought on by the alcohol gradually faded, replaced by a mixture of exhaustion, emptiness, and inexplicable grievance. The bustle of the day faded, and the silence of the night was infinitely magnified. Lan Tongtong lay on the narrow bed in the wooden room, tossing and turning.
The drunken confessions of her colleagues still rang in her ears. Their stories of family, pressure, and the hardships of life weighed on her heart like a heavy stone. She thought of her parents far away, wondering if they'd taken their medicine on time. She recalled the difficulties of her job search and the initial struggles on the construction site. She remembered Liu Feng's repulsive face, and Mo Ge's steady, powerful eyes... A cascade of thoughts swirled around her, leaving her feeling restless and her stomach churning from the unfamiliar alcohol.
A strong desire to talk arose in her chaotic mind. Almost subconsciously, she reached for her phone. With the remaining alcohol and an inexplicable sense of dependence, she found the name "Mo Ge" in the address book and dialed.
The phone rang several times before it was connected. Mo Zhichi's sleepy but still clear voice came from the other end: "Hello, Tongtong? It's so late, what's going on?"
"Brother Mo... I..." Lan Tongtong felt her mind was a mess. The words she wanted to say were stuck in her throat and turned into incoherent mumblings, "... It's uncomfortable... They... are all having a hard time... uh..."
Her voice was tearful and incoherent, and she was obviously still drunk.
Mo Zhichi was silent for a few seconds. There was no blame in his tone, only concern and understanding. "Did you have a drink at the dinner party? Are you in the dormitory now?"
"Well... I drank a little... I have a headache... I can't sleep..." Lan Tongtong mumbled like a child.
"Got it. Drink some hot water first and lie down and don't move." Mo Zhichi's voice had a reassuring power. "I'll call you back later."
After hanging up the phone, Lan Tongtong hugged the pillow drowsily. She didn't know how long it had been before the phone rang again. It was Mo Zhichi.
"Tongtong, I've sent you a bowl of casserole porridge from the guardhouse downstairs. It's seafood-rich and good for your stomach. Go down and get it. Eat it while it's hot before you go to sleep."
Lan Tongtong was stunned, and the softest part of her heart was deeply touched. She didn't expect that after her silly call at one in the morning, Brother Mo not only didn't think she was disturbing him, but also thoughtfully ordered a warm midnight snack for her.
She threw on her coat and shuffled to the guardhouse. Sure enough, a steaming pot of porridge sat there, its rich aroma wafting into her nostrils. She carried the porridge back to the dormitory, opened the lid, and found it soft, glutinous, and sweet. A warmth spread down her esophagus, spreading through her limbs and even her troubled heart, seemingly smoothed out.
She ate her porridge in small sips when her phone rang again. It was a message from Mo Zhichi: "After finishing your porridge, go to sleep and don't think about anything. Sleep until you wake up naturally tomorrow. I'll take care of the construction site. From now on, do what you can and learn to protect yourself when you're out there."
Reading these brief yet caring words, Lan Tongtong finally couldn't hold back her tears, which dripped into her bowl of porridge. This time, it wasn't a feeling of grievance, but rather a feeling of being cared for, cherished. In this city where she had no relatives, on this cold construction site, what Brother Mo had given her was far more than just a "brother." He was more like a stern yet loving elder, holding her up in critical moments and providing her with the warmest care in the smallest details.
She finished the porridge, her stomach feeling better and her heart settling. After washing up, she lay back down on the bed. The restlessness she'd felt before vanished, replaced by a sense of peace and tranquility. She texted Mo Zhichi, "Brother Mo, I've finished the porridge. It's delicious. Thank you. I'm going to sleep now. You should get some rest too."
Putting her phone down, she quickly fell into a deep sleep. The moonlight outside the window was still cold, but the dormitory was filled with the warm aroma of seafood porridge and the steady breathing of a girl sleeping peacefully. That night, she truly experienced a kind of protection, silent yet profound, enough to soothe all anxieties and give one the courage to face any challenge tomorrow.
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