Imperial Ambitions and a Shortage of People

"The Sixth Set of Radio Exercises begins now. Stretching exercise, ready—one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, two, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight..."

"Aimin, Aimin, wake up!"

"Mr. Han! Mr. Han!"

"Stop shouting and get Mr. Han to the hospital!"

"Who knows if he broke any bones? We can't move him carelessly. We should call the hospital!"

Han Aimin was jolted awake by the overlapping cries. Opening his eyes, he saw familiar yet unfamiliar faces gathered around him, each more anxious than the last. Then a searing pain shot through his elbows and knees.

"Aimin's awake. Make some room." A man around forty let out a sigh of relief and urgently asked, "Aimin, are you all right?"

If this wasn't a dream, the man before him should be Zhong Jianyu, his former colleague and big brother. He had been a military cadre transferred to 985 Factory. Since he knew nothing about technical work and the factory had no shortage of political cadres, he had been assigned to the Children's Middle School as a political science teacher.

Behind Zhong Jianyu stood a young woman in a floral plaid spring and autumn shirt. Her surname was Liu, Liu Pingping. She was both a descendant of 985 Factory and third sister's classmate from kindergarten through middle school. After graduating high school without getting into college, she had been assigned by the factory to teach English at the Children's Middle School. But she was neither a cadre nor a formal employee—she was a "collective worker," whose salary and benefits were a grade below those of formal employees...

"Aimin, look at my hand!" Zhong Jianyu had no idea what Han Aimin was thinking. He raised a finger and moved it before Han Aimin's eyes.

The sharp pain in his elbows and knees,