Volume One, Chapter 19: Which Is Dirtier—the Hands or the Heart?

To foster better communication among key figures in industrial technology and academia, the competition organizers invited Jiang Yu to attend an engineering symposium.

The main assembly workshop of the City’s First Tractor Factory, usually roaring with machines, had been temporarily cleared and arranged as an open-air venue.

A massive gantry crane hung a red banner that read, "Warmly Welcome Chief Engineer Guo Cheng for Guidance."

The air was thick with the familiar scent of rust and machine oil—this was the very place where Jiang Yu had worked until her last days in her previous life.

Jiang Yu sat quietly beside Huo Chenyuan, her white shirt collar buttoned with meticulous care.

Her gaze swept past the bustling crowd and settled on a few restless figures in the back row—Jiang Weimin, Jiang Baoguo, and their precious Jiang Yuehua.

Jiang Weimin was the workshop director of the factory, responsible for organizing this symposium.

Jiang Baoguo was a factory worker, and Jiang Weimin wouldn’t waste such a valuable opportunity to bring him along for some recognition.

As for Jiang Yuehua, ever since being discharged from the hospital, she had been eagerly awaiting this day.

Of course, she remembered this symposium.

In her previous life, Jiang Yu had helped Jiang Baoguo prepare his speech, but when she was passing him the note, someone pushed her unexpectedly. She fell awkwardly in the aisle, becoming the biggest joke in the entire factory.

The machine oil and rust on her face couldn’t hide her embarrassment.

Huo Chenyuan followed her gaze, noting the complex emotions on the faces of that family. Then, looking at the calm and indifferent profile of the girl beside him, his eyes darkened slightly.

Before the symposium even began, Jiang Weimin stormed over with Jiang Baoguo in tow.

“Jiang Yu! You’ve become quite something now, huh? You don’t even care about your brother anymore?” Jiang Weimin’s voice was low but laced with resentment and dissatisfaction. “Your brother is about to speak on behalf of the workers. Where’s his speech? Do you want to disgrace the Jiang family in front of the whole city?”

Jiang Baoguo whispered in agreement beside him, his face full of timid dependence. “Jiang Yu, this tractor work is what you should focus on. Forget the competitions. Hurry up and write it now.”

Jiang Yu’s fingertips paused slightly on her notebook.

The scene was a replay from her past life.

She had just finished her shift in the workshop, utterly exhausted, her nails stained with black grease that wouldn’t wash off.

To write that speech, she hadn’t even had time to eat, hunched under dim light, painstakingly crafting every word.

Jiang Baoguo passed by carrying a bowl of rice. Seeing her hands, cracked and stained, he accidentally brushed against his coat, recoiling as if burned by something filthy, his face openly showing disgust.

“Jiang Yu! Your hands are so dirty, don’t touch me!”

At that moment, she looked at the hands she had soaked in cold parts and pungent oil for the sake of this family and their future, then at his self-righteous, disdainful face. Her heart felt as if it had been plunged into ice water. Instantly, all the grievances and weariness vanished, leaving only a numbness that pierced to her bones.

So, all her efforts were seen by them as nothing but filth.

Filthy?

Was it her hands that were dirty, or their hearts?

Jiang Yu slowly raised her eyes, fixing them coldly on Jiang Baoguo.

Her gaze was like that of a stranger—utterly detached and icy.

Her voice was low, neither humble nor arrogant.

“I’ve said before, I have nothing to do with the Jiang family anymore.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Jiang Weimin stepped forward, ready to grab her and drag her home, intending to beat her as before.

Huo Siyue, seething with anger, stepped in front of Jiang Yu.

“What do you think you’re doing? Touching my sister? You’re asking for trouble!”

Jiang Weimin snapped back, “She’s my family! So what if she’s living with you now? If I want to hit her, I will. What business is it of yours?”

Huo Siyue planted his foot on a stool, rolling up his sleeves to fix a pipe. “You want to see if I care? Try to lay a hand on her, and I’ll tear this workshop apart. I’m not Huo if I don’t.”

Jiang Yuehua tugged at Jiang Weimin’s arm, whispering, “Dad, don’t offend the Huo family. Besides, if this blows up, it’ll ruin your reputation. Anyway, Jiang Yu is just a country bumpkin who’s never stood on a stage. Even if you give her the speech, she’ll probably stammer and mess it up.”

Jiang Weimin trembled with anger but, seeing Huo Siyue blocking the way, had no choice.

Suddenly, his eyes caught sight of a thick stack of densely written papers resting on Jiang Yu’s lap. His eyes lit up like he had found a lifeline, and without hesitation, he reached out to snatch them.

“You brat, still pretending you didn’t write anything! You say you’re tough, but deep down, you’re on our side, right? Give it here!”

He assumed the papers were the speech prepared for Jiang Baoguo.

Huo Chenyuan’s brow furrowed dangerously, his fingers tightening slightly on his knee.

Huo Siyue acted swiftly, grabbing Jiang Weimin’s wrist with a grip so strong it made Jiang Weimin wince in pain.

Several sheets scattered on the floor amid the struggle, but what was drawn on them were not speeches. Instead, they were intricate mathematical formulas and precise mechanical blueprints.

Jiang Weimin froze.

He stared blankly at the incomprehensible documents, then at his daughter’s calm face as she gathered the papers, his mind going completely blank.

How could it be? How could a simple country girl who only knew how to operate tractors produce such things?

At that moment, the host’s voice rang out from the stage:

“Now, please welcome the workers’ representative, Comrade Jiang Baoguo.”

Called upon, Jiang Baoguo could only grit his teeth and clutch his clumsily written speech as he stepped onto the stage.

Blushing fiercely, he stammered into the microphone:

“Chief Guo… respected leaders… I am Jiang Baoguo. On behalf of… the workshop workers… I would like to say a few words.

Workers… have strength! We promise to work hard… produce more grain… and make more powerful tractors for the country! … That’s all.”

As soon as he finished his hollow, laughable words, suppressed laughter erupted from the audience.

Jiang Weimin’s face flushed crimson.

Back at his seat, he looked as if he wanted to overturn Jiang Yu’s chair.

It was all her fault!

Jiang Yuehua watched her father and brother’s anger, then leaned in to whisper something in their ears. Both fell silent, their expressions turning smug.

Jiang Yu, I want to see—if you’re so proud, when you embarrass yourself later, covered in machine oil, will your Huo family brother still be able to help you?

Are you willing to lose face like that?

Jiang Yuehua lowered her eyes, masking the pleasure gleaming beneath.

The higher you stand, the harder you fall.

Don’t you understand that, Jiang Yu?

The host’s voice echoed from the front of the stage: “Next, we welcome the winner of this competition, the sole student representative, Jiang Yu, to the stage for questions!”