Chapter 2: A World of Villains

“Cut the nonsense.”

Zhang Guoping laughed and scolded, “The Rolling Mill is a subsidiary of the Ministry of Industry. You’re one of our Ministry’s own—if I don’t back you up, who else will?”

“Uncle Zhang, thank you.”

Lin Shaowen quickly finished his breakfast and handed the house key to Zhang Guoping.

Zhang didn’t bother inspecting the house; after carefully locking the door, he hopped onto his somewhat aged old bicycle and rode with Lin Shaowen toward the Rolling Mill.

An hour later.

Rolling Mill, Director’s Office.

“Old Zhang, why didn’t you give me a heads-up before coming?” Yang Weiguo extended his hand from afar.

“Well, my nephew here just came to report for duty at your mill,” Zhang Guoping said, pointing at Lin Shaowen with a smile. “He’s an outstanding graduate from the Medical University. You’ll have to take good care of him.”

“Really came?” Yang Weiguo looked at Lin Shaowen in shock.

Though the Rolling Mill was a massive factory employing tens of thousands, it simply couldn’t retain medical staff.

Doctors aren’t like workers; they require specialized skills. The factory once had a few medical graduates, but none stayed longer than two years—they all managed to slip away through connections.

In this era, promotions required assessments across all professions, doctors included.

Graduating from medical school was just the beginning; mastering many medical techniques required excellent mentors and extensive practical experience. Factory doctors had no future—treating minor ailments, applying iodine for injuries.

Red Star Hospital was less than twenty minutes from the Rolling Mill. Severely injured workers were sent straight there.

That’s why everyone tried their best to escape.

In a factory with tens of thousands, only an elderly man—well past retirement age—remained on duty as the factory doctor. This year, the old man had a stroke and was hospitalized, leaving the factory doctor position vacant.

Yang Weiguo had no choice but to send out invitations everywhere, hoping for a hit-or-miss chance. Unexpectedly, he managed to catch one—a top graduate from the Medical University.

“Hello, Director Yang, I’m Lin Shaowen,” Lin introduced himself calmly.

“Hello, Doctor Lin,” Yang greeted him.

Yang appraised Lin Shaowen and smiled broadly. “Doctor Lin, why choose the Rolling Mill? Xiehe Hospital should be a better choice.”

“My father is a worker,” Lin said solemnly.

“Ahem, Old Lin is a senior engineer,” Zhang Guoping coughed twice.

“A senior engineer?” Yang Weiguo’s face showed astonishment.

This kid is from a privileged family compound—why would he opt for the Rolling Mill?

“This kid said, ‘Xiehe doesn’t lack good doctors, but the Rolling Mill lacks a good one.’ Seems Old Lin raised his son well,” Zhang Guoping remarked appreciatively.

“Well said,” Yang Weiguo applauded.

“Stop making a fuss,” Zhang waved his hand. “Old Yang, what salary grade does my nephew get?”

Yang Weiguo pondered and replied, “Doctor Lin just graduated; he’s assigned level four salary—56.87 yuan per month. Also, as a special talent recruit, the factory adds a 10-yuan monthly subsidy.”

The highest doctor salary was level eight—112.5 yuan.

Specialized graduates received level three—48 yuan; university graduates received level four—56.87 yuan.

In this era, that was a very high wage, especially with the subsidy.

“Hmm, looks like you’ve still got some conscience, kid,” Zhang nodded approvingly, then added, “One more thing: your housing needs to be settled by your unit…”

“Housing?” Yang Weiguo frowned. “Old Zhang, we can meet all other demands, but this… I’m really powerless. Many people in the factory still don’t have apartments.”

“That’s the Ministry’s directive,” Zhang Guoping took out a document and said seriously.

Yang Weiguo took the file and frowned even deeper.

The Ministry ordered housing to be arranged for Lin Shaowen, explicitly specifying an apartment. After all, Lin exchanged his previous home for an apartment—giving him a house in a different form would be unfair.

“Minister Zhang, the factory really has no apartments… How about I move out and free my place for Doctor Lin?” Yang Weiguo said with a troubled face.

Zhang Guoping frowned sharply, about to argue.

But Lin Shaowen, who had been silent, spoke up: “Director Yang, I’m here to work, not to enjoy luxury. As long as the housing issue is resolved, it doesn’t matter where I live.”

Though eloquent, it was a helpless concession.

Since Yang Weiguo wasn’t enforcing the Ministry’s orders, it was clear the factory had no apartments. There was no point in pressing further—it was better to be magnanimous.

“Shaowen,” Zhang Guoping called with a frown.

“Uncle Zhang, I know you mean well, but you must consider the factory’s reality,” Lin said sincerely.

“Doctor Lin, you’re a good man,” Yang praised, opening a drawer and pulling out a stack of bills, handing them to Lin. “I’ll find you a large house, and these… are the factory’s compensation.”

Lin raised his hand to refuse. “Director Yang, I can’t accept undeserved rewards.”

“Take it,” said the director sternly.

Lin glanced at Zhang Guoping, who nodded, then accepted. “Thank you, Director.”

“That’s more like it. Come on, I’ll show you the house.”

Yang Weiguo happily draped his arm around Lin Shaowen’s shoulder as they left, with Zhang Guoping following.

Whether privately or officially, Lin’s housing problem had to be solved.

Nanluoguxiang.

Less than twenty minutes from the Rolling Mill, but Yang didn’t take Lin straight there; instead, they went to the local street office.

“Director Yang, what brings you here?” asked a middle-aged woman in her early forties, with a no-nonsense short haircut and a commanding presence.

“Director Wang, this is our factory’s Doctor Lin,” Yang introduced. “He just reported today. We need to arrange housing for him. I remember there are some rooms in the courtyard of the Yi Zhonghai residence?”

“You mean Yi Zhonghai’s courtyard?” Director Wang asked.

“Yes, yes, that’s the one. Doctor Lin just graduated; the courtyard is full of our Rolling Mill people, so it’s convenient,” Yang smiled.

Lin Shaowen was dumbfounded.

What on earth?

Nanluoguxiang? A courtyard? Yi Zhonghai?

These keywords combined gave him a dizzy feeling. This was like living in a drama called “Love in the Courtyard”!

“There are rooms there; I’ll take you over now,” Director Wang said without hesitation and stood up to leave.

“No, I think—” Lin tried to refuse, but Yang Weiguo grabbed his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s take a look.”

“Director, listen to me—”

“We’ll talk when we get there.”

…

Lin Shaowen stared at the courtyard before him, unable to take a step forward. Anyone with a shred of sense wouldn’t want to be neighbors with these people.

If he hadn’t seen the drama, maybe it wouldn’t matter. But having watched it, it was infuriating.

Nearly everyone in that courtyard was a villain.