Chapter 33: Young Man, What Do You Do for a Living?

After retrieving his household registration booklet from his mother, Li Xiangdong tucked it into his canvas shoulder bag and headed out with his father and two older brothers.

"Third son, if there's anything you don't understand when you go to register, remember to ask and make sure you're clear," his father reminded him while munching on a steamed corn bun.

"Don't worry, Dad," Li Xiangdong replied with a nod.

The four of them chatted as they walked. Li’s second brother reached the bathhouse first, and not long after, his father and eldest brother arrived at the coal shop. All three of them worked within the same traditional alleyway where they lived.

Left alone, Li Xiangdong exited the alley and continued east along the main road. The scenes before him looked like a series of vintage photographs. There were no skyscrapers, only gray-brick tiled houses as far as the eye could see. The sparse traffic made the road feel exceptionally wide, with bicycles and cars sharing the space, neither yielding to the other.

In 1976, the United Nations had designated Beijing as a city on the verge of desertification. It wasn't until this year’s Fifth National People's Congress that March 12th was officially declared Arbor Day. Along the sides of the road, newly planted saplings—only as thick as a finger—were spaced ten meters apart. *So that’s where the future clouds of poplar and willow catkins come from,* he thought.

The passing crowds were almost entirely dressed in shades of blue and gray, with the traffic police in their stark white uniforms standing out as the only exception. Most people wore smiles, walking at a leisurely pace, with some even stopping by the roadside to smoke and chat. Life here had yet to adopt the frantic pace of the future; people were accustomed to the relaxed atmosphere left over from the era of mass movements. Gone was the urgency of the fifties and sixties—the drive to work early, leave late, and take pride in being the most dedicated worker, striving for national construction even on an empty stomach.

Drifting with the flow, Li Xiangdong walked for about ten minutes before arriving at the main gate of the Beijing Railway Bureau's Passenger Transport Division.

"Hey, young man! Yes, you—what are you here for?"

A small window in the gatehouse slid open, revealing the head of a man who looked to be in his sixties. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and scrutinized Li Xiangdong, who had been looking around.

Li walked over and said, "Hello, sir. I'm here to report for my new job."

"Oh, come on inside then."

The old man retreated, closed the window, and returned to his newspaper, continuing his study of the higher-ups' directives.

"Sir, have a cigarette." Li knocked and entered the room. He pulled out a pack of Daqianmen cigarettes, handed one to the old man, and lit it for him. He then took his letter of introduction from his bag. "May I ask your name, sir? This is the introduction letter from our neighborhood office."

"What’s with the 'sir' stuff? We're all the working class here. Just call me Old Man Hou. Let me see that letter."

Old Man Hou set aside his newspaper and carefully examined the document. "Right, this is the place. But you're early; the folks in the Personnel Department haven't started their shift yet."

Li Xiangdong smiled. "That's fine. If you don't mind, I'll keep you company while I wait."

"Mind? Not at all. I don't get many visitors here, so it’ll be nice to have someone to talk to."

Old Man Hou returned the letter and puffed on his cigarette. "Sit down, don't just stand there. You're so tall, it's tiring to look up at you. When did you get back from the countryside?"

"Wow, Old Man Hou, you truly have eyes like torches! You could even tell I’m a returning educated youth? No wonder the leadership entrusted such an important post to you!"

Li Xiangdong scanned the small gatehouse, pulled over a chair to sit beside the old man, and laid on the flattery. He wasn't being insincere, either—he had spotted a 12-inch black-and-white television covered with a cloth on the cabinet. In the alley where he lived, very few families owned a TV. In an era when even radios weren't fully ubiquitous, a gatekeeper who could watch television while on duty clearly held a position of some importance.

Old Man Hou chuckled, looking at him with amusement. "Your tongue is certainly smooth, kid. It was written right there on your introduction letter, yet you call me 'sharp-eyed.' My reading glasses are already 300 degrees. Besides, I'm just a gatekeeper; don't go calling this an 'important post'."

He looked at Li Xiangdong with growing favor. He liked a young man who knew how to talk, and Li’s words made him feel good. "The letter says your name is Li Xiangdong. Should I call you Comrade Li, or Comrade Xiangdong?"

Seeing that the old man was in a good mood, Li seized the opportunity. "Call me whatever you like, but my family calls me 'Dongzi.' Why don't you do the same? It makes us feel more like family, doesn't it?"

Old Man Hou laughed. "So, according to you, I've managed to gain a relative just by guarding the gate today?"

"You're an elder to me, aren't you?" Li replied earnestly. "I'll definitely come by to chat and keep you company when I'm free, so you don't get bored."

"Is that a promise?"

"It’s a promise!"

"Are you sure?"

"I'll definitely be back!"

"I don't believe a word you say, kid!"

"How can you say that? Would I ever deceive you?"

"Hard to say." Old Man Hou flicked the cigarette butt. "You were too stingy to pull out the Peonies and gave me these instead. How can I trust you?"

"Ha... a misunderstanding, really. I’m just used to smoking these myself." Li laughed awkwardly, reached into his bag, pulled out a pack of Peonies, and quickly opened it to offer one.

Seeing that the old man wasn't actually angry, he flattered him again. "I only let a glimpse of the pack show when I took out the letter, and you caught that! Don't tell me you don't have eyes like torches—you’re just being modest, old comrade."

Old Man Hou lit the new cigarette and took a satisfied puff. "I'm farsighted, not blind. I might not be able to read the fine print, but I know what a cigarette pack looks like. You're a smooth talker, kid, not exactly honest." Despite his words, his tone was much warmer.

"I won't let your cigarettes go to waste, Old Man Hou. You sit tight. When the section chief from Personnel arrives, I'll put in a good word for you. I guarantee no one will give you any trouble today." There was a note of pride in his voice.

"If you could do that for me, I’d be truly grateful," Li Xiangdong said, thanking him profusely.

New hires often faced a hard time, and it was always a headache. If Old Man Hou could help him sail through the paperwork, then the flattery and the cigarettes were well worth it. Of course, Old Man Hou was quite a character himself—after all, it takes two to tango.