As if he saw Yan Mingli's confusion, Zeng Heping did not pretend to be profound, but smiled even more kindly.
After all, I am also forty years old. Although he calls me "Brother Zeng", I am actually nearly two generations older than him.
Seeing him sit down, Zeng Heping immediately took out a work point book and an abacus and placed them in front of him. "I know you're good at math. Come and help me calculate it again. I've calculated it three times, and the results are different every time. It's driving me crazy!"
When Zeng Heping said this, his tone was filled with helplessness and fatigue. He felt that if he continued to calculate, not only would his head explode, but he would also vomit his breakfast.
Hearing what he meant, Yan Mingli was very hesitant. How could he, a fifth-category element, look at the work point book and help the members with their calculations?
But looking at Zeng Heping's expectant eyes, he felt it was difficult to refuse, "Brother Zeng, I..."
Unexpectedly, Zeng Heping interrupted him before he could finish his words, "Mo Zhiqing said that children should be educated."
Of course he knew the little girl had said this, but did they accept him so quickly?
If you don't refuse, it means you agree.
Zeng Heping immediately opened the first page of the work point book and pointed to the record. "Work points need to be calculated at the end of the month, and some people are still worried. I can't handle it all."
Although Zeng Heping did not say it explicitly, Yan Mingli knew who he was referring to. When work ended yesterday, the work points of the third production team were recorded by him, the accountant of the brigade.
Since Zeng Heping insisted, Yan Mingli had no choice but to bury his head and start working on the abacus. In less than a moment, the abacus beads began to make crisp sounds.
At this moment, Mo Yutong was standing quietly in the secretary's office, holding the phone in his hand, talking to his father who was far away in Beijing.
On the other end of the phone, Mr. Mo kept giving her instructions, and every word was filled with care and concern for her.
He asked about her recent situation and told her to take care of her health, not to do the work if she couldn't, and most importantly, not to get tired.
Mo Yutong felt a warm feeling in her heart as she listened to her father's words. She nodded in agreement seriously and gently expressed her longing for her family.
After chatting with Father Mo, Mo Yutong changed the subject, lowering his voice as if afraid of being overheard: "Dad, I also sent a letter yesterday about that molecule. Do you think there is any way to solve it?"
Years of tacit understanding made Father Mo understand immediately. After thinking for a while, he said cautiously: "Xin Yao is closer to you now. I will ask him to come to you to discuss the details."
"Okay, Dad." After hearing his father's almost promise, Mo Yutong felt a lot more relaxed.
He asked about the recent situation of his mother and several uncles' families before hanging up the phone at the reminder of his secretary He Wenguang.
After walking out of the secretary's office and closing the door gently, Mo Yutong stood in the corridor and looked at the young man who was sitting at the desk and calculating seriously, and couldn't help but curl the corners of his lips slightly.
His figure seemed particularly focused in the bright sunlight. She did not make a sound to disturb him, but just stood there quietly, with some different thoughts in her mind.
Perhaps she could take this opportunity to knock on the door of the brigade headquarters for the boy, but she had to think carefully about how to do it.
Mo Yutong took a deep breath, carefully organized his thoughts, and then slowly walked towards the young man.
"Mo Zhiqing, you've finished your call! Sit here." Seeing this, Zeng Heping very tactfully pointed to the stool next to Yan Mingli with a kind smile on his face.
"Thank you, Accountant Zeng." Mo Yutong didn't act pretentiously and sat down next to the young man with confidence.
His gaze then inadvertently fell on the notebook in front of the boy, and a hint of curiosity flashed in his eyes.
She quickly averted her gaze and thought to herself: It turns out that he was calculating the work points for the members, and Accountant Zeng didn't care about his background.
Seeing the little girl sitting down, Yan Mingli couldn't help but look up at her, with tenderness flashing in his eyes, and said with a smile: "Wait for me a little longer, I will be ready soon."
Mo Yutong nodded slightly upon hearing this, and immediately looked at the young man intently, until his ears became redder and his hands moved slower and slower.
But she seemed completely oblivious, only gazing at him tenderly. Noticing a thin layer of sweat on the tip of his nose, she even whispered, "You're hot! Let me fan you."
As he spoke, he took off his straw hat and gently fanned him.
"No...no..." Yan Mingli tried to refuse, but his objection was ineffective. The little girl continued to fan him stubbornly with a determined smile on her face.
Zeng Heping watched this scene, laughing in his heart, but jokingly said, "I'm old now, and my eyes aren't as good as they used to be. These words make me dizzy."
Then he secretly glanced at Yan Mingli and saw that his ears were visibly hotter.
Although he knew that this was a tease, he could only endure this warm yet slightly cool happiness with a blushing face.
The wind was still blowing gently. The boy glanced at the sweat on the little girl's forehead and decided to slam the can even harder: "Your hands are getting tired from fanning, or I'll fan you!"
The young man spoke seriously, but Mo Yutong heard a hint of tenderness in his words. Her face immediately flushed, and she said a little embarrassedly, "You haven't finished yet!"
"One hand can count." Yan Mingli smiled, took the straw hat, reached back with his left hand, and gently fanned her.
"Oh!" He had already snatched it away. What could she say? She could only look at him with a silly smile, her eyes full of happy little stars.
So Zeng Heping, who was sitting opposite the two of them, was fed dog food for half an hour. This feeling made him miss his wife at home who was probably plowing her private plot under the scorching sun.
But when his eyes fell on the six large work-point notebooks on the table, his longing turned into faint resentment, and he could only shed tears of sympathy for himself.
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