The group of women applying at the Warm and Sleepy Textile Factory all shared the surname Hou.
They came from Houjia Village, the same village where Zhang Fengyi had nearly died in battle. They were also the women Li Daoxuan had once shielded with his divine form, protecting them from slaughter.
Among them was a young woman surnamed Hou, named Lan.
She was the same Hou Lan who had been knocked flat by a graduate student during the hot air balloon incident not long ago.
At this moment, she was surrounded by the women of Houjia Village, who laughed and teased her relentlessly.
"Xiao Lan," one of them said with a grin, "why are you applying to the textile factory too? The rest of us didn't marry well, so we have no choice but to work. But you married a graduate student from Gao Family Village. Are you really coming out to earn money?"
Hou Lan's cheeks flushed slightly. She smiled shyly and shook her head.
"My husband is a graduate student, yes," she said softly, "but our family is not exactly wealthy yet. He hasn't officially started working. He's still buried in his research. We'll only have money to spend once he invents something useful. Until then, I should also work and help support the household."
The women burst out laughing.
"What nonsense! How could a graduate student be poor?"
"He helped with the hot air balloon research. Surely he received a huge reward."
Hou Lan waved her hands anxiously. "How can you say that? My husband helped research the hot air balloon for the future of the village, to help the militia with reconnaissance. He didn't do it for money. His ambitions are far greater than that."
The women laughed even harder.
"Hahaha, look at how flustered she is."
Hou Lan pouted, then added earnestly, "Besides, even if my husband were rich, I would still want to work. Dao Xuan Tianzun has taught us that women should not depend entirely on men. They must have their own abilities and means of survival. This may not be possible elsewhere, but in Gao Family Village, it is."
Her words caused the teasing to slowly die down.
When they had first arrived in Gao Family Village with Zhuge Wangchan's logistics team, their only thought had been survival. Finding a husband had seemed like the only path forward.
But once they arrived, they quickly found work and earned their own wages. Many of them had not remarried at all. One woman was even raising a child entirely on her own while working.
They were not applying to the Warm and Sleepy Textile Factory because they were unemployed. They simply wanted better pay.
"Xiao Lan is right," one woman said.
"What's wrong with having a graduate student husband?" another laughed. "His money is his. We can earn our own."
"That's right," someone added. "With our own money, we don't have to panic."
"If a husband treats us badly," another said cheerfully, "we can just divorce him."
"Hahahaha!"
Laughing and chatting, the group arrived at the gates of the Warm and Sleepy Textile Factory.
The factory, once small and inconspicuous, had undergone three rounds of expansion. It now covered a vast area, with clean factory buildings and orderly dormitories. The entire complex looked modern, spacious, and impressive.
The women could not help but marvel.
"This textile factory is amazing."
"It's so much better than the one we worked at before."
Hou Lan smiled. "A newly built factory is naturally better," she said. "But with this new one here, the managers of the old textile factory must be feeling pressure. They will have to reform sooner or later. After all, the old factory is almost eight years old."
The original textile factory in Gao Family Village had been founded in the early Chongzhen years. Back then, in Chengcheng County, Li Daoxuan had purchased four courtesans at a low price to serve as secretaries for Gao Yiye. Under the leadership of head secretary Chun Hong, the factory had slowly taken shape.
Years passed. The old factory aged. Management loosened. Buildings grew worn.
Without competition, it might have continued declining indefinitely.
Now, with the rise of the Warm and Sleepy Textile Factory, experienced female workers were leaving in droves. The old factory was suddenly under real pressure.
At the recruitment desk sat a middle-aged Mongolian woman.
Everyone in Gao Family Village knew her.
An Jile.
Her appearance was distinct from that of the Han people, and she had arrived in Gao Family Village as a "hostage," making her a frequent topic of gossip. Recently, she had been learning Chinese, though progress was slow.
She greeted them awkwardly. "You… come… apply-ing?"
"Yes, yes," the women replied warmly. "We're here to apply."
"Apply… ing…" An Jile struggled.
"Auntie," someone corrected gently, "this character is pronounced pin, pin."
"Apply," An Jile said slowly.
"That's right this time," the women laughed. "If the tone is wrong, it becomes a different word."
An Jile smiled proudly.
She believed firmly that the Han people were strong. Everything done by the strong was worth learning. Even the moon above the Han lands seemed rounder than the one over the Mongolian grasslands.
"I… want… see your hand… craft," she said.
"It's shou yi," they corrected again, then began explaining their work experience. How many years they had worked. What machines they operated. What skills they possessed.
Before long, every woman from Houjia Village passed the recruitment process.
Some were married and lived with their husbands.
Others were unmarried and still lived in the old factory's dormitories.
Since they had changed jobs, they returned to the old factory to pack their belongings.
They bundled their things into large packs and carried them toward the gate.
That was when they saw Chun Hong.
The old factory manager stood in the distance, watching them leave. Her face was dark with resentment.
The women felt a pang of guilt.
"What do we do?" someone whispered.
"She's watching us."
"My heart is pounding."
"I don't dare face her."
They became flustered and uneasy.
At the same time, Chun Hong was boiling inside.
Just then, the embroidered cotton Dao Xuan Tianzun on her chest opened its mouth and chuckled softly.
"Chun Hong," it said, "are you planning to walk over and scold them for being ungrateful?"
Chun Hong jumped. "Dao Xuan Tianzun! You saw through me."
"There is no need," Dao Xuan Tianzun said calmly. "As a manager, when you encounter difficulty, do not vent emotions like an ordinary person. Reflect instead. Why did they leave?"
"Find the problem. Solve the problem. That is the path of a true manager."
"If you only know how to curse and complain, you will never accomplish great things."
Chun Hong's eyes brightened.
"I understand," she said firmly. "I will raise funds to renovate the old factory. Clean it up. Improve working conditions. Tighten management. We will match the new factory's wages."
The cotton Dao Xuan Tianzun smiled.
"That's exactly right."