Chapter 10: Playing the Fool to Outsmart the Cunning?

Even if Lu Jianwei were to be dismissed, it was not Song Zhaodi’s place to say so.

“Lu Jianwei, you villain, you’re slandering me! I’ve always completed my tasks honestly at work!”

“Sister Song, aren’t you ashamed to say that? Last week, that model employee publicity article you posted was written by Comrade Yang Hongyan for you. The week before, that interview piece for the district publicity department was done by Xu Xinmin on your behalf. This week, you asked me to write a report for the Quality Month event, and I haven’t even had a chance to start…”

Before Lu Jianwei could finish, Qiu Dongyun roared, “Song Zhaodi, you damaged Comrade Lu’s belongings—compensate her at full price! Framing others is absolutely forbidden and will not be tolerated here. Submit a written self-criticism, and also a job reassignment application!”

Song Zhaodi was stunned. “Chief Qiu, why must I apply for a new position?”

“You’re not competent for your current post, so naturally you need to change. When the procurement department head recommended you, claiming you were a talented writer, I placed you in the publicity section. If you don't want to be laid off, the only vacancy left is on the workshop floor. It’s your choice.”

She took a few steps, then turned back. “From now on, all office management positions will be filled through open competitive examination.”

Song Zhaodi pointed at Lu Jianwei. “And what about her? Did she get in by examination?”

Qiu Dongyun was barely containing her anger. “Comrade Lu is a university graduate. She’s not like you.”

“She studied abroad!” Song Zhaodi protested.

Lu Jianwei replied, “So what if I studied abroad? I even know an extra foreign language compared to you.”

Fu Tingjun, who’d been listening in from the technical section, seized the moment to step out. “Chief Qiu, Comrade Lu is new and unfamiliar with things—she didn’t mean to cause trouble. Some of what she said about Comrade Song might not be entirely accurate. As for reassignment…”

“Yes, yes, Comrade Fu is right! Lu Jianwei just arrived—how could she know anything!” Song Zhaodi was desperate not to be reassigned; wasn’t it comfortable sitting in the office?

Lu Jianwei sneered. “Comrade Song, never mind a news article—could you even write a narrative essay about our argument this morning?”

Narrative essay? Song Zhaodi’s expression froze.

“And as for you, Comrade Fu—when did you become section chief, meddling in everything? When will you repay the money and tickets you owe me? Surely you’re not planning to skip out? If you’re short, why not ask that relative of yours overseas…”

“Comrade Lu!” Fu Tingjun’s voice shot up in panic, his hair on end. “I’ll pay you back as soon as I can!”

“It’s almost ten o’clock. If you’re late by even a second, I can’t promise I’ll keep my mouth shut!”

Fu Tingjun’s heart pounded; Lu Jianwei was acting completely unyielding. He didn’t dare gamble. If she really started spouting nonsense, he might not only lose his prospects—he might not even keep his life.

He’d never felt so cornered, and the sum owed was considerable. If he repaid it all, he would have to borrow.

Fu Tingjun followed her into the office, approaching her desk, where her things lay in disarray. He moved to tidy them. “Weiwei, I mean well—you just returned, you don’t know how things work here. The factory often needs favors from Song’s father…”

Lu Jianwei resisted the urge to kick him. “Get lost. Can’t you understand plain language? Don’t touch my things.”

A man and a woman easily attracted gossip—especially when, just yesterday, a military officer claiming to be Lu Jianwei’s fiancé had stepped in to defend her.

Lu Jianwei decided to make things clear. “I’ve already broken off the engagement with you. You and my cousin are about to get engaged. Now, all I ask is that you return what you owe me. If you insist on making a scene in the office, I’ll oblige. But let Sister Song be your warning—if you’re not afraid of reassignment, then go ahead!”

Fu Tingjun was definitely afraid.

“I’ll go fetch your money right now!” Fu Tingjun clenched his fists. “But I hope you’ll consider—things aren’t as you think. I have my reasons. I hope you understand!”

Once Fu Tingjun left, Yang Hongyan came over. “Lu Jianwei, what’s going on between you and Engineer Fu?”

“An old family betrothal. Before I returned from abroad, he started seeing my cousin. They’ve hugged, kissed, and tomorrow they’ll be engaged. His family owes me a lot. Asking for repayment isn’t unreasonable, is it?”

Before she had the money, Lu Jianwei didn't mention Fu Tingjun's overseas connections.

“Of course. Money doesn’t grow on trees.”

Lu Jianwei had a mind to let Yang Hongyan spread the word. She recounted the tale of Fu Tingjun and Zhu Tingting as if telling a story, but halfway through, she realized something was amiss.

She’d heard this story from her senior. A novel set in the era, “Crossing the Sixties: Marrying the Scientific Big Shot,” had a heroine named Zhu Tingting. Lu Jianwei was the vicious supporting character, doomed to die miserably.

By the time Fu Tingjun returned, rushing to repay her, news of his affair with Zhu Tingting had spread throughout the factory.

He handed over seven thousand three hundred and twenty-eight yuan, plus a pile of ration coupons.

Lu Jianwei counted it. “The tokens are returned, the money settled. From now on, we’re done. Comrade Fu, I wish you and my cousin a lifetime of harmony and unwavering love.”

Fu Tingjun looked utterly desolate, almost crashing into the doorframe on his way out. Yang Hongyan suspected Lu Jianwei had chosen the military officer over Fu Tingjun.

Once no one was looking, Lu Jianwei slipped the money and coupons into her space.

Song Zhaodi deeply regretted provoking Lu Jianwei, handing her five yuan. “Is that enough?”

“It’ll do!” Lu Jianwei didn’t know the prices—she only wanted the effect, and she’d achieved it.

“Lu Jianwei, you did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

Lu Jianwei blinked, feigning ignorance.

“You used to pretend to be weak just to fool us?”

Lu Jianwei didn’t want to adjust her thinking to match others, so she nodded. “You’re right!”

She’d thought participating in the project and getting through the approval process would take a few days, but by three in the afternoon, the factory office called her over.

Gu Huaizheng came as well, almost more anxious than she. “So, what’s the verdict?”

“It’s done. Comrade Lu is approved to join the project.” Zheng Baohua waved the papers in his hand.

Gu Huaizheng visibly relaxed. “It’s a firearms improvement project. The material used for the barrel isn’t heat-resistant enough. We obtained a foreign report on this material and had several people translate it, but none of the versions seem right.”

Lu Jianwei took the report—about ten pages, densely packed technical jargon.

The report clearly used some coded language; in later years, it was all deciphered, but for this era, many terms were unfamiliar.

But for Lu Jianwei, it was no issue.

In her previous life, at age eleven, she entered Professor Lin Feng’s chemistry and physics lab at Haicheng Transportation University, publishing two secondary papers in SCI journals. She spent only one year in high school, competing in Olympiads and pursuing her interest in ocean physics, publishing a primary SCI paper. At university, she majored in quantum mechanics; her doctoral studies at MIT focused on astrophysics. After returning to China, she taught at Haicheng Transportation University, back in quantum mechanics, with a stack of papers to her name.

Her knowledge was broad. While others struggled to memorize, Lu Jianwei struggled to forget.

“When do you need it?” Lu Jianwei asked.

Gu Huaizheng sat sideways, his hand resting on the back of her chair. From a certain angle, it was as if he was encircling her. He carried a faint scent—like pine and man—subtly wafting to her nose, causing a gentle blush to spread across her cheeks.

“Whenever you finish translating, that’s when we need it.” His voice was low and magnetic, as if murmuring right at her ear.