Unlike Qingmu or the lawyer, Yu Jianguo couldn't meet Zhao Pengcheng in a private meeting room. They met through a thick glass partition, like a bank employee and a customer depositing money. The glass was completely sealed and soundproof, so they could only talk through an intercom.
They have no relatives, and this is the first time they've met people like this since they went to prison. They both feel a mix of novelty and heartache.
Old Yu is thinner than before, and his hair is completely white; he looks like a real old man.
As Zhao Pengcheng watched, his throat suddenly tightened and he burst into tears. He didn't know what was wrong with him; the rich emotions that he had been suppressing suddenly erupted, leaving him somewhat at a loss. But he didn't want to stop; he had suppressed them for too long. And he knew that this might be the last time he saw Old Yu.
Old Yu hadn't expected Zhao Pengcheng to cry so hard, and his eyes were red too. He repeatedly comforted him, " Pengcheng, don't cry, ah, don't cry!"
" Uncle Yu... you've gotten old!..." Zhao Pengcheng sobbed, "It's all my fault, it's all my fault!"
Yu Jianguo hadn't heard him call him " Uncle Yu " for many years, and tears welled up in his eyes. He said, "Child, I'm old, but it doesn't matter what happens to me, you're still young!"
"Uncle, I'm fine." Zhao Pengcheng wiped his face and smiled. From the moment he saw Old Yu, he finally felt relieved.
"Hey, I know, I know you're alright." Old Yu smiled too. "That's why I didn't bring anything. I know you're fine, you don't need anything."
Zhao Pengcheng understood Old Yu's words, and he also knew that Old Yu understood him.
"Uncle, don't worry, I'll be fine. You need to take good care of yourself from now on."
"Don't worry, I have people taking care of me, everything's fine."
The meeting was brief; Zhao Pengcheng didn't even ask how Yu Jianguo got out. He believed that whoever could get Yu Jianguo out of prison must be capable of taking good care of him. He also knew that for Yu Jianguo to live well, the prerequisite was that he himself had to live well and demonstrate his value. Whether Yu Jianguo his later years depended entirely on how much value Zhao Pengcheng had in him.
Back in his work area, Zhao Pengcheng continued working as if nothing had happened.
That day, he was working overtime again. After loading the goods with the factory's driver, the driver offered cigarettes to the armed police and prison guards supervising their work, and tossed one to him as well. Zhao Pengcheng didn't smoke, but he took it anyway and tucked it behind his ear.
The driver smiled and said, "I'll probably have to work overtime again tomorrow. We've been busy these past few days, you've all been working hard!"
The armed police officer looked stern, and although he lit a cigarette, he didn't speak. The prison guard, however, complained, "You guys are really something! Who works day and night like this? It's lucky we're here; if this were a factory, the workers would revolt!"
The driver said, "This is the last batch. After this, there won't be any more big jobs. Once this batch is finished, everyone can have a good rest and look forward to the New Year!"
The prison guard said, "No way, these guys can't be without work. If you run out of work, I'll have to take them to compete with other squads for jobs."
The driver chuckled and said, "I don't know about that. Let your manager discuss it with our manager."
The prison guard said, "Why have you come alone these past two days? Where is Engineer Liu?" The Engineer Liu he was referring to was the inspector; in the past, the inspector and the driver would come together.
The driver said, "The factory is busy, Engineer Liu can't leave either."
The group chatted for a few minutes, then the driver had the supervising prison guard and the armed police officer on duty sign the form before driving away.
Seeing that it was still early, Zhao Pengcheng returned to his cell as required. His cellmates were already asleep. He quickly washed up, squatted in the toilet, took the cigarette off his ear, tore the rolling paper with his fingernail, cleaned out the tobacco, and flattened it into a small strip of paper. He glanced at the faint writing on the strip, a slight smile appearing on his lips, and quickly threw the strip, tobacco, and cigarette butt into the water to flush it away.
Then, he went to his bunk as if nothing had happened and fell asleep peacefully.
The next morning, Zhao Pengcheng went to the computer room and, as instructed by the training specialist, conducted a test on the inmates who were receiving training. He then organized all the documents they had written and put them in a special folder. This work took him a little longer, and by the time he finished, it was past lunchtime.
Lunch in prison was the only meal with meat; breakfast and dinner consisted only of pickled vegetables, porridge, and steamed buns. Touching his empty stomach, he felt a little disappointed, gave a self-deprecating laugh, and went to report to his work area.
The workload was immense that day, with circuit boards piled up like mountains. The prisoners harbored grievances but dared not utter a word, their only form of protest being silent. The atmosphere on the construction site was particularly oppressive.
Zhao Pengcheng checked the semi-finished and final products against the blueprints again and again, his eyes bloodshot. He was already hungry, and he had eaten dinner in a hurry, which made his stomach a little uncomfortable.
As night fell, the driver took away one batch of boards, saying he would come back to pick up the second batch in the middle of the night, and instructed Zhao Pengcheng to check carefully one last time.
Everyone worked until late into the night, leaving Zhao Pengcheng alone to hand over the goods to the returning driver. The foreman and the prison guards were yawning and cursing incessantly.
The chickens raised by farmers in the distance started clucking, and then the rumble of a truck engine could be heard. The driver got out of the truck and kept apologizing, asking Zhao Pengcheng to load the goods onto the truck. He took out cigarettes and tried to get on the good side of the foreman and the armed police.
Zhao Pengcheng climbed into the van and, in the dim light, saw a man sitting in the corner. He looked closer and saw that the man was wearing the same prison uniform as him, with shackles on his feet, and his face bore a resemblance to his.
The two exchanged a smile, neither speaking. Zhao Pengcheng only saw a faint sadness in the other man's eyes.
Zhao Pengcheng sat down, and the man climbed out of the truck to start loading the cargo. At this time, the driver also came over to help move the goods. The foreman yawned and said, "You guys carry on, I'm going to take a nap. Come to the duty room to sign off on things later."
Boxes of packed circuit boards were loaded onto the truck, quickly blocking the light from shining into the compartment. Zhao Pengcheng sat in a corner of the compartment, carefully controlling his breathing to avoid coughing from the dust kicked up by the boxes.
Darkness quickly enveloped him.
It felt like an eternity before he heard the truck door slam shut, the engine roar to life, and then his body swayed and jolted. He knew the truck was heading towards the prison gates.
Meanwhile, in the work area, another " Zhao Pengcheng," dragging his weary body, carried the scattered excess cardboard boxes and circuit boards into the warehouse. The armed police on duty glanced at him with some suspicion, and just as he was about to walk over, the prison guard supervising the work came over, handed him a cigarette, and said, "Finally finished. You won't have to work so hard anymore."
The armed policeman took the cigarette, smiled, and said, "You're done, but I still have to go on duty."
The prison guard lit his cigarette for him, then shouted to " Zhao Pengcheng " in the distance, "Just stay in the storeroom and doze off. Don't go back to your cell; it'll be dawn soon."
At daybreak, Zhao Pengcheng's guard and several prison guards arrived and brought out " Zhao Pengcheng " who was sleeping in the storeroom. The guard read out the prison's decision:
" Zhao Pengcheng, given your recent performance, you have made significant progress and achievements in both ideological awareness and labor reform. The recommendation for your sentence reduction has been submitted. It has been decided to transfer you to the Sixth Prison Ward to assist with training work there. These two will be your new guards and instructors."
Zhao Pengcheng nodded blankly and followed the two prison guards from the Sixth Prison Ward.