Song Zhenhua left home and returned to the factory.
Just as he got back, the director called him away.
For some reason, Song Zhenhua had a bad feeling, as if something was about to happen.
Song Zhenhua arrived at the director's office.
Wang Hui saw Song Zhenhua, raised his hand, gesturing for him to sit.
Song Zhenhua sat across from Wang Hui.
Wang Hui remained silent, just flipping through the documents in his hand, his expression not looking good.
Song Zhenhua felt like he was sitting on pins and needles.
About ten minutes later, Wang Hui finally put down the things in his hands and looked at Song Zhenhua.
"Old Song, how many years have you been working at our factory?"
Nervous, Song Zhenhua swallowed, saying, "Twenty-three years."
Wang Hui nodded: "Hmm, twenty-three years."
Wang Hui wasn't originally from this factory, so he hadn't been there as long as Song Zhenhua.
