Volume One, Chapter 13: The Employment Evaluation

But I didn’t avert my gaze; I kept staring intently at Team Leader Li over there.

It wasn’t until Sister Yuzhu’s voice came from beside me that I turned: “Xiaohui, the door’s open.”

I responded with a simple “Oh” and looked back. Sure enough, the management had opened the factory gate.

“Xiaohui, keep it up!” Sister Yuzhu cheered me on excitedly.

“Mm!” I nodded firmly, deciding not to tell her about Team Leader Li’s matter, so she wouldn’t get distracted.

We entered the factory and headed for Workshop Five.

The workshop was empty and quiet; we were indeed the earliest arrivals.

The management shut off the power, and we took our assigned sewing stations.

Our stations were side by side, in the middle right section of the workshop—Sister Yuzhu was in front, and I was behind.

Once seated, we started sewing on the worn fabric, just as Sister Jing had taught.

But the moment I pressed the pedal, I knew something was wrong!

The stitch density on my machine had clearly been tampered with—it was much tighter than what I was used to, and I immediately tore the fabric!

My mind flashed back to Team Leader Li’s sly grin just moments ago.

Sister Yuzhu frowned and turned to me nervously: “Xiaohui, the stitches are so dense, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, Sister Yuzhu. I’ll adjust it,” I replied.

Sister Jing had indeed taught me how to adjust stitch density, so I hurriedly began tweaking Sister Yuzhu’s machine first.

As I adjusted, other workers gradually arrived at the workshop.

Naturally, this meant all the time we woke up so early was wasted just fiddling with the machines…

This inevitably affected both Sister Yuzhu’s and my moods.

It wasn’t until Sister Jing herself, clicking in her heels, entered the workshop, walked over to us, and asked what had happened.

She furrowed her brows slightly, her expression cold as she glanced at the other workers.

I knew perfectly well Sister Jing suspected someone had tampered with our machines.

I told her it probably wasn’t anyone from our own group who had done it.

Sister Jing nodded and personally helped us adjust the stitch density.

However, she had forgotten the stitch settings we were each familiar with, so she could only set them to what she considered average.

“Will this work?” Sister Jing seemed worried.

“It’s fine, Sister Jing. We’ll get used to it again,” I replied, quickly settling down at my machine.

Just then, a slightly stout man with a broad smile entered the workshop, hands clasped behind his back.

This man was the workshop supervisor, the one who ultimately decided our assessments.

“Why are you here so early…” Sister Jing frowned and stepped forward to greet him.

I frowned as well, and Sister Yuzhu turned back toward me, her face full of worry.

“It’s okay, Sister Yuzhu. Relax, we can handle this,” I said, trying to calm her nerves.

The supervisor, accompanied by Sister Jing, walked toward us.

I immediately stood, politely greeting him with, “Hello, Supervisor,” hoping he would evaluate me first, giving Sister Yuzhu some time to get comfortable with her machine.

He smiled and nodded, “Don’t be nervous, handsome. Relax and take it easy.”

He then pulled out a piece of tailor’s chalk and drew a straight line on the fabric I was sewing, adding a horizontal line at the front edge as a guide for me to follow.

This was a test of sewing machine proficiency: the line sewn had to be perfectly straight and end exactly on that horizontal mark. If one wasn’t familiar with the machine’s speed, a pedal press could easily overshoot the line, which would be disastrous.

I took a deep breath, calmed myself, and, following Sister Jing’s instructions, held the fabric steady and lightly pressed the pedal.

With the mechanical hum filling the air, I noticed that the stitch density setting Sister Jing had adjusted made the machine run at a different speed than I was used to.

But after a moment, I adapted, and when I reached the horizontal line, I released the pedal just in time.

No problem—a perfect straight line, ending exactly on the horizontal mark.

I pulled out the fabric. The supervisor’s smile faltered for a moment as he took the piece and examined it carefully.

Sister Jing stood nearby, arms crossed, watching him with a strange look in her eyes.

She had certainly noticed something unusual.

Normally, a perfect straight line like mine would immediately be recognized as excellent by any worker. Yet this supervisor scrutinized the fabric as if trying to find fault where none existed.

Finally, he smiled again and set the fabric down: “Not bad, not bad at all. You’re doing well, young man.”

Then he brought over another piece of worn fabric and asked me to sew the two pieces together to form a patch pocket.

A patch pocket means sewing two pieces of fabric together to make a pocket opening.

I knew how to do this, though Sister Jing had told us before that the test would usually be either the straight line or the patch pocket—not both.

Because our factory operated on an assembly line, one workshop only handled one task before passing the work to the next.

Our group’s workshop was responsible for sewing the seams.

So passing the seam test meant we could start work, and we could learn how to sew patch pockets later.

But now the supervisor was asking me to do both, which meant he was almost certainly brought in by Team Leader Li to make things difficult for us!

Still, I knew how to sew the patch pocket—it just required more care.

Sewing seams usually involved straight or long curved lines, but patch pockets required turning corners, which demanded greater machine proficiency.

I pressed the pedal slightly lighter than before and soon finished the patch pocket test.

The supervisor’s smile disappeared again as he took the fabric and examined it thoroughly.

But before he could pass judgment, Sister Jing, now wearing a stern expression, spoke first.

“Chen Hui, you did very well. You passed the assessment and can start work officially.”

The supervisor was momentarily taken aback, but when he saw Sister Jing’s cold expression, he quickly smiled again and nodded: “Yes, yes! Sister Jing is right! Very good work!”

Hearing this, I felt no joy, because I had passed—the next one should be Sister Yuzhu…

But whether it was the thread or the unfamiliar stitch density, Sister Yuzhu immediately broke the thread when she started sewing the straight line.

Sweat broke out on her forehead.

The supervisor still smiled, this time more warmly: “Young lady, are you hot? Wipe your sweat. Don’t be so nervous. Try again, we’ll take it slow.”

His blunt encouragement only made Sister Yuzhu more nervous, and her lines grew even less straight.

Her face tightened, sweat pouring down her brow, looking as if she was about to cry.

I couldn’t bear to watch any longer. Turning my back on them, I left the workshop and made my way directly to Team Leader Li’s Workshop Three…