Surviving As Parents

In 1973, at the Springvale Mining Bureau, the weather in March was just right, neither too cold nor too hot. The sky seemed to have been touched by a red brush, painting it a vibrant red.

The loudspeakers played "The East is Red," and workers in groups of three or five emerged from the factory, marking the end of their shift.

The mining bureau, home to hundreds of employees, was not a small operation. At this moment, as the workers poured out, the crowd was dense, and a child navigated through the throng with remarkable agility.

"Ah, isnt this Tom Songs kid?" someone remarked, recognizing the child.

Upon hearing this, the child immediately stopped and looked up at the man, sweetly greeting, "Uncle John."

She eyed the hero fountain pen pinned on the mans chest, her thoughts quickening. "Uncle John, is my dad working overtime again?"

Anyone carrying a hero fountain pen was likely a cadre.

The child was very clever, feigning a sigh. "My dad just loves working overtime. My mom has scolded him about it several times, but he says working for the organization is not tiring."

The young man next to the man frowned. Everyone in the factory knew that Tom Song was the type to disappear as soon as work ended, let alone work overtime. That was nonsense.

The young man, known for his straight-talking, said, "Emily, your dad is playing ping pong at the back playground."

Emily: "..."

Ah, this... was a bit awkward.

She thought to herself: This unambitious father of mine!

Her eyes widened, determined to manage her father better. If this continued, when would she be able to become a second-generation beneficiary! Her demands werent high, a child of officials, wealth, or at the very least, a scholar. But based on the current situation, being a child of officials seemed the most promising.

Emily, only five years old, was already worried about such significant matters because a year ago, she suddenly regained the memories of her past life.

After spending half a year processing these memories, she realized that in her previous life, she was a child of officials and, more than that, a complete winner in life, always striving and striving to be the best.

But looking at this life, sigh, her rebirth was subpar.

Her father, Tom Song, being the youngest son in his family, was lazy by nature, skilled at finding opportunities to slack off, to the point where he would create opportunities to loaf around if there were none.

Her mother, Lisa, though not as lazy as Tom, was adept at making do and even taught Emily how to do the same. What? Emily, who had accepted her memories, couldnt understand this at all.

She clenched her small fist, thinking: She was already behind in her reincarnation, she couldnt afford to fall further behind.

As the saying goes: One step behind leads to being steps behind.

So she turned her attention to Tom and Lisa.

But the couple was more than the other, which was a worry for the child.

She wondered: Is there any way to make her parents work harder?

Seeing Emily with a solemn expression, the man called "Uncle John" smiled and said, "Work and leisure should be combined; playing ping pong is also good." He had heard from his wife last week that Tom Songs daughter was quite amusing, forcing Tom and his wife to read newspapers and write summaries.

It was the first time he had heard of a child pressuring their parents to study, how interesting.

Seeing a way out, Emily immediately said, "Uncle John, youre right, work and leisure should be combined. My dad often says that health is the capital of revolution, and only by keeping fit can we better serve the organization and the people."

On a whim, she added, "Uncle John, my dad is very good at ping pong. If you want to practice, my dad is always available."

Emilys words were not an exaggeration; Tom was very skilled at ping pong, after all, his energy was not focused on work.

"Great," the man rolled up his sleeves, "I used to represent my school in competitions when I was in school. Im old now, not as good as before."

Emily sweetly said, "Uncle John, youre not old at all. The brother next to you looks much older than you."

The young man: "..."

He knew he was mature-looking, but he wasnt *that* mature.

Deputy Director Sun was already thirty-five years old, and he was only in his early twenties!

But the other party was still a child, and if he was concerned, he would seem inconsiderate.

"Lets settle it," Emily clapped her small hands and said, "Uncle John, dont forget, okay?"

After that, she ran to the back playground.

As soon as she arrived at the back playground, Emily saw her father sweating while playing ping pong, and she couldnt help but sigh. If only her father would put the effort he put into ping pong into his work.

But she didnt rush over to urge her father, because it was useless; her father was determined to finish three rounds.

Whats more, there was a bet involved; the loser had to buy popcorn for the winner.

Emily cared a lot about popcorn.

She knew many people at the back playground, probably because she had the memories of her past life, and she was very smart. Who to call what, what position they held, and who they were close to, she paid attention and remembered these details.

Like that young man running while wearing glasses, he graduated from the Workers-Peasants-Soldiers University, specializing in writing drafts and organizing materials for the director.

It is said that this guy memorizes the chairmans quotations every day, not only memorizing them thoroughly but also insists on running to exercise, such self-discipline!

Emily pondered, wishing her father was like him.

While thinking, she looked at her father who was still playing ping pong with disdain.

Tom didnt know his daughter was disgusted with him; he was thinking about getting one more ball, and the popcorn would be in the bag.

There was an old man at the mining bureau who made great popcorn, with a very loud sound and a very fragrant taste. All the workers in the factory, regardless of age or gender, loved it.

"Brother Cheng," Liu Pingyuan held up his thumb, "I admit defeat."

Liu Pingyuan had short hair and bulging muscles, having just been transferred from the city.

Tom wiped his ping pong paddle, put the ball in his pocket, and said with a smile, "Lets play again next time."

Liu Pingyuan took a big gulp of white water, "Brother Cheng, lets eat together later?"

Tom waved his hand, "My daughter has come to find me." He had seen Emily long ago, "The one sitting on the stone over there." He pointed to Emily for Liu Pingyuan.

Looking at those eyes that were rolling around like a monkey.

How did he end up with such a little thing?

Liu Pingyuan looked at Emily and complimented, "Brother Cheng, your daughter is really well-grown, with eyes like eyes, and a nose like a nose."

Tom: "..."

He waved at Emily, and Emily ran over to him.

"Dad, youre amazing! Youre the pride of me and mom!" She learned from her memory that for disobedient parents, one should not only criticize but also encourage appropriately.

Thinking about it, she is the best child in the world.

Tom rubbed Emilys head, successfully turning her not-so-much hair into a mess.

Emily was angry.

This was the hairstyle she had been working on for a long time!

Bear dad! So annoying!

She opened her arms, signaling for Tom to hold her.

Tom pursed his lips, pointing at Emilys short legs, "Daughter, what are they for? You have to use them more, or they will rust."

Emily: "..."

Fortunately, I have the memories of my past life, or I would have been fooled by you.

Her legs will never rust!

Emily applied what she had learned, pouting and saying, "Dad, your arm will rust if you dont use it."

Tom: "..."

If he had known he would end up with such a little thing, he wouldnt have had her back then.

He picked up Emily with one hand and put her on his shoulders, "Lets go, my dear daughter."

"Go!" Emily laughed and said.

Tom: "..."