For Yang milan , a scholar who had published papers in English for many years, translating a few pages was hardly a challenge.
If the Chinese translation didn't need to be written down, he could complete it in less than two minutes just by speaking.
Even so, when Yang milan took only five minutes to hand over a neatly written translation to Old moe , the man was still astonished. The English passage had already been translated before, so old moe carefully compared Yang's milan version with the standard one. Aside from a few differences in word choice, the overall quality was flawless.
Recognizing Yang's milan true talent, Old moe praised him. "Your skills are excellent, and you're more than qualified. But according to regulations, we still need to review your personal information."
Prepared in advance, Yang milan presented his ID card and supporting documents, including a letter of introduction from the brigade. After a thorough check, Old moe realized that this young man was actually an educated youth from shilti . "You're from shilti and came to join us?" he asked in surprise.
"Yes," Yang milan replied with a smile. "I've been with the team in willow Commune, shallow County, for five years."
Old moe was even more surprised. "Five years? Why didn't you apply for this job earlier?"
"I didn't even know such a job existed," Yang milan laughed. "Besides, my wife has always been the breadwinner of the family, so I've never been motivated to earn money."
Old moe chuckled. "Then you really married a good wife!"
"Indeed, I think so too," Yang milan replied, thinking fondly of his little daughter, the corners of his mouth lifting in a gentle smile.
Old moe smiled as he finished checking Yang's milan ID. "Everything looks fine. Now, how would you like to take on the job?"
"Is there more than one option?" Yang milan asked, slightly confused.
Old moe nodded. "Yes. Translators are divided into three levels—junior translators, translators, and senior translators. Each level is assigned different types of tasks."
He paused for a moment before continuing. "Your skills aren't bad, but right now you're only qualified as a junior translator. That means you can only take on translation work for foreign magazines and journals. Once you raise your level, you'll be able to handle more advanced assignments."
Yang milan thought for a moment before asking, "How are royalties calculated? And how can I upgrade my rank?"
Old moe explained, "If the article you translate is under three thousand words, you'll be paid five yuan per piece. If it's over three thousand words, you'll be paid three yuan for every thousand words."
"As for improving your rank, there's only one way—translate more!" He leaned forward and added, "For example, if you translate over ten thousand words with at least ninety percent accuracy, you'll be promoted to translator. If you reach one hundred thousand words with a ninety-five percent accuracy rate, you'll be promoted again. And if you translate over a million words with an accuracy of ninety-eight percent or higher, you'll become a senior translator."
Yang milan nodded calmly. "All right, then please assign me some journals, preferably ones related to industry or mathematics."
Old moe pulled out a medium-sized magazine. "This is the latest assignment from higher-ups. You can try it here. But if you want to take it home, you'll need to pay a ten-yuan deposit."
Yang milan took the magazine and flipped through it. It turned out to be an industrial journal published in the United States just last month, roughly fifty pages long. He smiled faintly. "Based on my speed, if I give it my full effort, I should be able to finish this translation in just two to five hours."
With that thought, he looked over at the empty tables and chairs beside him. "Can I work here for a while?"
"You want to translate directly here?" Old moe asked in surprise.
"Is that not allowed?"
"It's allowed," Old moe said, nodding. "But you must remember—every translation has to be submitted for review. Only works that pass the review will be paid. So even if you finish it here, the royalties will have to wait."
Yang milan smiled. "That's fine. The royalties can come later. I have three days off this time, and I want to raise my translator level as quickly as possible. That way, I'll be able to take on higher-level assignments when I return home."
Hearing this, Old moe respect for him grew. Impressed, he not only provided Yang milan with pen and paper, but also poured him a glass of water.
Without hesitation, Yang milan sat down at the small round table by the bookstore window, opened the magazine, and began his work. His hand flowed swiftly across the paper, his heart steady and at peace.
Yang's milan translation speed and accuracy were astonishing. Not only did he manage to finish an entire magazine in one afternoon, but the quality of his work was also exceptionally high.
Old moe, who reviewed the manuscript, was stunned. Fast and precise—this is exactly the kind of talent we desperately need! Without hesitation, he decided to send Yang's milan translation to the provincial government for overnight proofreading and review. He also prepared to report Yang's milan abilities to the relevant departments, certain that such a rare talent must not be overlooked.
After all, high-level translators were in short supply. Each one was considered a national treasure and had to be cherished.
Yang milan , however, had no idea that his performance had already drawn so much attention. Just then, the rumbling in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten all day. He decided it was time to fill his belly first.
Directly across from the jinhua Bookstore was a state-owned restaurant, from which the aroma of freshly cooked food drifted over, making his mouth water. Saying goodbye to Old moe, Yang milan left the bookstore with a magazine under his arm and walked toward the restaurant.
It was lunchtime, and the place was crowded. As he entered, the rich scent of roasted meat wafted from the kitchen, and Yang's milan hunger grew unbearable. For the past two days, he had been living on wild vegetable buns and potato porridge at home. Though simple and filling, they could hardly compare to the sight of golden-brown roasted pork. His eyes widened with longing.
But then he thought of his wife and child back home, who were still eating coarse food, while he stood here tempted by fish and meat. If I eat this alone, wouldn't that make me heartless? Yang milan sighed. If I really want to enjoy this, I should buy it and share it with Li mercy and maggie.
After wrestling with himself for a moment, Yang milan reluctantly turned away from the roast pork and ordered a bowl of hot noodle soup instead. Though plain vegetarian noodles, it was still a treat compared to the coarse grains and wild greens he usually ate in the countryside.
Having been hungry the entire day, Yang milan devoured the noodles in one go, soup and all, until the bowl was completely empty.