pjbooks Chapter 25 Going to Flower City
Chapter 25 Going to Flower City
Xiongxiong Fireworks Factory.
Zheng Ziqi was giving a preliminary review of the revised outer packaging paper and export price list for fireworks. He then took two copies of each and put them in his bag to take to Huacheng.
"Wang Fugui, come with me to the train station later. Zhaoyuan will review it again before finalizing it for printing."
Zheng Ziqi said to Wang Fugui.
"Yes, Director Zheng."
Wang Fugui also packed a copy of the newly printed outer packaging and price list into his bag, and also prepared a pen.
"Let's go to the cafeteria and eat early so we can get to the train station sooner."
Zheng Ziqi put all his luggage on the table and prepared to go eat first.
After having lunch in the cafeteria, the two set off for the train station early.
Xinhua Bookstore in Jinyang County.
Tu Chenglong checked the time; his train was at 3 PM, time to eat and head to the train station.
Tu Chenglong pushed the door open and came in; Zhao Yuan was still writing furiously.
"Brother Zhao, it's time to eat. Head to the train station early, the train won't wait for you."
Tu Chenglong said.
"Okay, wait a little while, I'll go after I finish translating this chapter."
Zhao Yuan's subordinate continued writing rapidly without even looking up.
Tu Chenglong stood beside Zhao Yuan, watching him work. Zhao Yuan was incredibly fast. As the saying goes, "Nine out of ten fast people are careless," but Zhao Yuan was fast without being careless. His keywords were attractive, the page was clean, and it looked very pleasing to the eye. Watching him translate was like copying from a book; this guy's English must be excellent. This time, it should be a sure thing. Finally, he'd found someone he could hand in a satisfactory job. Tu Chenglong thought to himself.
after awhile.
"Okay, let's go."
As Zhao Yuan spoke, he stood up, folded a corner of the book, closed it, and put it, along with the translation paper, into a bag.
"Director Tu, may I borrow some ink? My fountain pen is out of ink."
Zhao Yuan unscrewed the end of the pen and found it was out of ink. He knew he wouldn't be able to find ink on the train later.
Yes, here you go.
Director Tu handed over a bottle of ink.
Zhao Yuan took the ink, filled the inkwell, and then put the pen away.
"Here, take this pen with you. At your writing speed, one pen will definitely not be enough when you're out of town, and it won't be easy to find ink. Here, take this pen as a spare, and return it to me when you get back."
Tu Chenglong handed him a black fountain pen.
"Thank you, but I won't stand on ceremony. It's very likely that we won't have enough."
Zhao Yuan grinned.
Zhao Yuan took all his belongings and followed Director Tu to a state-run restaurant next door for a meal.
This was Zhao Yuan's first time entering a state-run restaurant in this era.
Despite being a state-run restaurant, it lacked a proper entrance; there was simply a sign hanging at the door that read: "State-run Restaurant, Jianshe Road, Jinyang County." Inside, there were only four tables open for business, and just four people were dining there. In those days, ordinary people wouldn't go to a restaurant; only organizations or individuals would come to state-run restaurants when important guests were visiting and it was inconvenient to cook at home.
We ordered a tofu soup, a fish stew with perilla leaves, and a stir-fried shredded cabbage. Zhao Yuan doesn't drink alcohol, so Director Tu didn't order any either.
The two finished their meal.
Director Tu insisted on taking Zhao Yuan to the train station on his old bicycle. Zhao Yuan declined for a moment but eventually accepted, since it would take at least twenty minutes to walk to the train station, and Zheng Ziqi was probably already waiting for him there.
Upon arriving at the train station, Zhao Yuan thanked Tu Chenglong and walked towards the station.
This was his first train ride since his rebirth; he didn't seem to have ever ridden a slow, green train in his previous life. Because he was born and educated in the provincial capital, and after starting work, he mostly traveled by car or plane, and later by bullet train and high-speed rail. Therefore, Zhao Yuan was somewhat looking forward to this slow, green train.
This place is called a train station, but it's really just a temporary stop. It's just one building with only one ticket window, a few wooden chairs, and a handful of people scattered around inside.
As he entered the train station, he heard Zheng Ziqi waving to him.
"Zhaoyuan, over here, over here."
Zhao Yuan quickly walked towards Zheng Ziqi's direction.
After Zhao Yuan sat down, Zheng Ziqi handed him the newly printed outer packaging paper and price list.
"Brother Zhao, these are the outer packaging paper and price list that you revised and reprinted. Please review them. Wang Fugui will take them back and start mass printing and revisions."
"Ok."
Zhao Yuan sat down, took out a pen from his bag, and began to look at each one one by one. Then he revised it according to the US standards for imported fireworks and confirmed it with Wang Fugui again and again.
All the outer packaging and price lists have been revised.
After saying goodbye to Zheng Ziqi and Zhao Yuan, Wang Fugui returned to Xiongxiong Fireworks Factory with the revised packaging and price list.
They quickly checked their tickets and boarded the train.
This green train has three seats on one side and two seats on the other, all facing each other. There's a small table in front of the window seat for people to put their things. The seats are the old-fashioned hard seats.
Zheng Ziqi and Zhao Yuan got on the bus and found their seats, which were two-seaters facing the same direction. "Director Zheng, I'll sit inside. I need to hurry up and do some translation work on the way. Xinhua Bookstore is pressing me hard."
Zhao Yuan said.
"Okay, you sit by the window, I'll sit outside."
Soon, two elderly men in Zhongshan suits sat down in the opposite seats.
"Excuse me, may I borrow the table?"
Zhao Yuan smiled and spoke to the two elderly men opposite him.
"You can use it, we don't have anything."
The taller of the two elderly men said.
"Thank you."
As he spoke, Zhao Yuan took out documents and translation paper from his bag and began translating.
Zheng Ziqi leaned over for a glance; the book was full of shredded radish, with only a few words he recognized. He wisely looked towards the crowd in the carriage or the scenery outside the window.
Once Zhao Yuan gets into work mode, he gets into it very quickly, holding the book with one hand and writing rapidly with the other.
The two elderly men opposite initially thought the young man was copying a book.
The young man was writing furiously, as if copying a book. He quickly finished copying a page, put it in a bag, and put it away.
After a while, they noticed that the book in the young man's hand was entirely in English, while the young man was writing beautiful Chinese characters on the paper, which indicated that he was doing translation work.
The two old men noticed this almost simultaneously.
They began to observe the young man carefully.
This young man is not only fast, but his handwriting is also very beautiful. The whole page is neat and clean, making it very pleasing to the eye.
Just as Zhao Yuan finished translating a page and was about to put it in the bag, the tall old man said:
"Young comrade, may we take a look at what you've written?"
Zhao Yuan looked up at the old man opposite him, then smiled and said:
"of course can."
He then handed over the sheet of paper he had just translated.
The tall old man took the translation paper, and the short old man took the book from Zhao Yuan's hand. The two of them read it and both showed satisfied smiles on their faces, nodding and smiling at each other.
"The young man is very good."
The two handed the book and translation paper to Zhaoyuan.
Zhao Yuan took the book and translation paper, then marked the page numbers on the translation paper and put it in the bag. He prepared to continue writing furiously at his desk.
"Young man, could you please introduce yourself?"
The tall old man asked Zhao Yuan.
"My name is Zhaoyuan. I'm from Jinyang County, Huzhou Province. I'm a farmer and now I do some translation work. This time, I accompanied Director Zheng from our county to Huacheng to learn about foreign trade."
Zhao Yuan said.
Which school did you graduate from?
"The short old man asked."
"I didn't go to college."
Zhao Yuan said with a smile.
"You didn't go to university? But you've been abroad? I just saw your translations, they're professional-grade."
The tall, elderly man said.
“I’ve never been abroad. I only lived with a relative of mine for a period of time when I was a child. He had been abroad and spoke English very well. I liked it very much, so I learned it quite well.”
Zhao Yuan still used the same old rhetoric.
"Hmm, very good."
Although the tall old man was not entirely convinced, he did not press the matter further.
"Young man, we are from the Translation Bureau. Would you be interested in working for us?"
The tall, elderly man said.
"Thank you for your appreciation, but I have three children to raise and can't leave right now."
Zhao Yuan smiled and answered the two old men. It wasn't that Zhao Yuan was being pretentious or ungrateful; anyone else would have happily accepted. But he genuinely didn't want a fixed salary. In his previous life, he had worked at a university for over ten years before finally resigning. In this life, he wanted to be a freelancer.
"Oh, that's a pity. What kind of translation are you best at?"
The two elderly men were somewhat surprised by Zhao Yuan's answer, and then asked...
"I'm alright, my best subject is chemistry, and for other more specialized subjects I need to look up some information."
Zhao Yuan replied. He knew that contacting the translation bureau would greatly increase his chances in the future.
"Chemistry? You're good at chemistry?"
The two old men asked in unison.
"Yes, I just translated two books and handed them over to the county Xinhua Bookstore a couple of days ago."
Zhao Yuan said.
"Leave me your contact information so we can contact you if we need anything."
The two elderly men said.
"Ok."
As he spoke, Zhao Yuan wrote a note and handed it to the two old men.
The two elderly men took the note, glanced at it, and frowned.
"Zhaoyuan, do you have a contact number? Any number will do."
The tall, elderly man said.
"Then leave me the phone number of the Xinhua Bookstore in our county."
He then added Tu Chenglong's office phone number to the back of the note.