Chapter 30: When one shows undue deference, one surely has a request.

The coal yard is filled with swirling dust every single day. Just thinking about the toll it takes on one’s health is frightening.

Last night, while working on hammer heads inside the space, I rinsed my eyes twice. While it didn’t improve my vision as much as Duan Chengliang had hoped, it made my eyes feel much more comfortable and clearer; the chronic redness and irritation have basically vanished.

Thinking about it, it’s easy to understand: he wears a mask over his nose, but his eyes remain exposed every day. How could they not be damaged by the coal dust? The two rinses yesterday must have poured all their efficacy into repairing that damage.

That works, too. One day, I’ll have to see if I can find a way to rinse my lungs. Having the space’s ability to repair and strengthen the body gives Duan Chengliang a sense of relief.

In this era, people only talk about sacrifice while ignoring the omnipresent threat of occupational diseases. They pour their hearts and blood into their work while young, only to be left with endless pain and suffering in their twilight years. Most end up passing away after enduring years of torment.

In their coal yard, most of the workers are new recruits who arrived after the Liberation, with many joining the factory only in 1955 or 1956. Since they haven’t been on the job for long, the threat of pneumoconiosis hasn’t manifested its full force yet, but I imagine some will start suffering in a few years.

Duan Chengliang once saw a documentary about it and remembered a little. With his limited knowledge, he was well aware of the dangers of pneumoconiosis, though he lacked specific details. He knew vaguely that it was a slow-developing disease, with a late-stage onset typically appearing in two to ten years, sometimes taking as long as fifteen to twenty. In the early stages, there are often no obvious symptoms or physical signs, or perhaps only minor ones, and no significant change in lung function, which makes it easy to overlook.

Of course, if the working environment is too harsh and one is constantly exposed to high concentrations of potent, pathogenic dust, it’s possible to fall ill within a year or two.

What terrified him most was that the disease has a long course; even after a patient leaves the dusty environment, the condition continues to progress and worsen. It requires lifelong rehabilitative care, and the worst part is there’s no effective treatment—one can only grit their teeth and endure the agony.

The forging workshop has its own occupational hazards, too. Intense heat radiation and physical strain are significant threats.

When you look at it that way, the space that repairs and strengthens the body is truly wonderful—powerful and incredibly practical for him. In this era of scarce medicine and limited awareness of various diseases, lacking a sound healthcare system for employees, it is the most intimate care he could receive, protecting his health and happiness for a lifetime.

Old Feng returned yesterday after the meeting to convey the directives, and today, the enthusiasm across the entire factory seems to have soared. The demand for coal from various workshops has increased sharply.

Once again, he spent the afternoon as a red-hot human excavator. By the end of the day, the workers in the loading team were so exhausted they didn't even have the energy to trade dirty jokes, and the atmosphere felt much more somber. This was partly because they were in a transition period; the sudden increase in workload requires an adjustment process, even for skilled workers.

When he clocked out to head home, Duan Chengliang made sure to put his shovel into the space, intending to use it to dig the pond in the space’s small courtyard once he got home.

***

Today’s workload was more than fifty percent higher than yesterday’s, yet his physical state was much better. The effect of rinsing his kidneys a few times was immediate. Aside from getting hungry quickly, he felt fine.

He had originally planned to save four mixed-flour steamed buns for the evening, but he had already secretly eaten two; otherwise, his stomach would have suffered long ago this afternoon.

Just as he turned into Nanluoguxiang Alley, he heard the familiar chime of a bicycle bell behind him. Judging by the rhythm and the air of arrogance, Duan Chengliang guessed it was that grandson, Xu Damao. He hadn't seen him for a couple of days—he must have been off to the countryside and just returned today.

Duan Chengliang moved to the side of the road, and sure enough, he saw Xu Damao riding toward him, full of himself. It was clearly another trip where he’d returned with a full haul.

The grandson didn't look like much right now—covered in dust and looking quite disheveled—but his expression was incredibly conceited. He was likely feeling smug about the goods hanging from his handlebars and the back of his seat.

Film projectionists were often organized to take movies to the countryside, fully embodying the grand alliance between workers and farmers, and occasionally reinforcing an atmosphere of mutual aid and friendship. As a result, film projectionists held a very prestigious status, not just at the Rolling Mill but among the villagers as well. Whenever they went to a commune to show a film, they were received with great hospitality—often even more warmly than local officials. Young women and wives were particularly fond of these knowledgeable young projectionists. The village widows, in particular, would have eyes that practically glowed green when they looked at them.

If they managed to strike up a relationship, they could ride a bicycle right into the city. That’s what they called, "If you're willing to sacrifice your body, you can change the world." Just looking at what Xu Damao brought back every time was enough to see how well he navigated those rural communes.

Usually, when Xu Damao returned from the countryside loaded with goods, he wouldn't pay much attention to Duan Chengliang even if they bumped into each other. But today, he didn't ride past; he hopped off his bicycle right beside Duan Chengliang.

Strangest of all, he gave Duan Chengliang an incredibly bright, beaming smile.

*When someone shows excessive courtesy, they are bound to be asking for something.* Duan Chengliang watched coldly, his expression remaining indifferent, waiting to see what medicine Xu Damao was selling in his gourd.

"Chengliang, tell me, what do you think I admire most about you?"

Duan Chengliang kept his hands in his pockets and continued walking, only glancing at Xu Damao without a word.

***

Xu Damao chuckled to himself and continued, "It’s definitely your sense of style. Technically, you do the dirtiest and most exhausting work—I know how everyone else ends up, covered in dust and grime is normal—but look at you! Someone who didn't know better would think you were an office worker."

Duan Chengliang smiled and said, "How many people in our factory office wear a tattered cotton jacket like mine? In my memory, they all dress like you. Xu Damao, if you have something to say, just say it. Don't beat around the bush. Let's not waste each other’s time or feelings."

Xu Damao was shocked; he hadn't expected Duan Chengliang to speak to him like that. He’d been furious when he’d fallen down and been laughed at by Duan Chengliang a couple of days ago, and he still hadn’t managed to get back at him. He’d assumed the kid had just been acting foolishly that one time, but he hadn't expected him to be even ruder today. He’d been feeling lately that Duan Chengliang was different from before.

However, he had something to ask of Duan Chengliang today, so he didn't have the time to dwell on it.

Xu Damao quickly adjusted his mood, keeping the smile on his face, and said to Duan Chengliang, "Alright, I won't beat around the bush then. Look at me right now—do I look like an office worker? This trip to the countryside, the roads were too rough, and it left me looking quite a mess. But I have a matchmaking date tomorrow, so I need to look clean and spirited."

The tone Xu Damao used was smug. While the words he used were polite, calling him "brother" and acting friendly, the sense of superiority in his tone was everywhere. He even looked at Duan Chengliang with a sideways glance as he spoke.

After hearing this, Duan Chengliang didn't react at all; instead, he walked even faster.

Xu Damao hurried to push his bike and caught up, reaching out to stop Duan Chengliang. "Chengliang, don't walk so fast. Did you hear what I said?"

"I heard you. But what does that have to do with me?"

"Oh, it has everything to do with you! I don't have any bathhouse tickets on me right now. The tickets the people in your coal yard get never seem to last, but you always seem to have them. How about it? Can you spare one for me?"