Chapter 330: Zhou Dafu Becomes a Disciple

Zhou Yimin looked at Wang Weimin’s flustered expression with some confusion and asked, “Section Chief Wang, what wind blew you here today?”

Seeing Wang Weimin looking so “up to no good,” Zhou Yimin was puzzled. He hadn’t been back to the factory for a while and didn’t know what was going on.

He’d known Wang Weimin for quite a long time and understood he was the type who never came for nothing. If he showed up on his own initiative, he definitely needed help with something.

“Yimin, do you have a way to get 500 jin of pork?” Wang Weimin asked bluntly.

Zhou Yimin was a bit confused. “Section Chief Wang, why the sudden need for so much pork?”

“The factory leadership, seeing that the factory’s performance has been great, wants to give the workers a better New Year’s gift—one jin of pork per worker, along with some peanuts and melon seeds,” Wang Weimin explained the whole situation.

“The leadership made the decision, and now it’s up to people like us to run around begging and scrambling to get pork. Director Ding gave the order—each section must secure at least 500 jin of pork. I had no other options, so I came to see if you could help.”

Zhou Yimin asked, “Even if every section needs to procure 500 jin, that’s only a bit over two thousand jin. That’s still far from the over ten thousand jin needed.”

“The factory leadership managed to get over 8,000 jin approved from higher-ups. The rest is up to us,” Wang Weimin said with a bitter tone.

Zhou Yimin finally understood. So this is what’s been going on while he was away from the factory. Though he could get it, he still pretended to hesitate. “I’ll have to ask around first.”

“I’d really appreciate it, Yimin,” Wang Weimin said, desperately hoping he could pull through—otherwise, he had no clue how to complete the 500 jin quota.

“There’s one more thing. Director Ding asked me to see if you had any connections to get some fruit. The factory leadership wants to hand out gift baskets too, so…”

“Alright, I’ll check. Any specific types of fruit?” Zhou Yimin wanted to clarify the requirements—otherwise, if he brought back something they didn’t want, it would be a hassle.

Even if he could sell it elsewhere, it would cause quite a stir.

“Director Ding didn’t specify. At this point, getting any fruit at all would be a blessing—who’d dare be picky?” Wang Weimin replied.

Given the season, fruit was extremely scarce. Who could afford to be choosy?

If it had been anyone else making such claims, Wang Weimin would’ve thought they were bragging. But this was Zhou Yimin—he had the capabilities to back it up.

“Alright, I’ll ask around,” Zhou Yimin replied.

Saying he needed to ask someone else clearly meant he had to go out. And just in case, he couldn’t come back too quickly either—it had to look legit.

Meanwhile, after observing Zhou Dafu for over a month, Li Feng had gotten a good read on his character. Though Zhou Dafu tended to talk big sometimes, he was reliable when it counted. Li Feng decided to formally take him in as a disciple.

That day, Zhou Dafu, as usual, made a cup of “high碎” tea for Li Feng. Most people couldn’t even get a sip of this stuff.

Everyone knew this “碎” was actually tea dust—fine tea particles sifted out during the tea processing, often swept up in tea shops.

Zhou Dafu held the freshly brewed mug and walked up to Li Feng, saying, “Captain Li, have some tea!”

Li Feng nodded and took the tea without fuss.

Zhou Dafu turned to go back to work. He’d been learning how to fix cars, and whenever he had time, he’d go out on jobs with the fleet to familiarize himself with the routes. GPS didn’t exist—if you wanted to go somewhere and didn’t know the roads, your only hope was to learn to read a map.

“From now on, just call me ‘Master,’” Li Feng suddenly said.

Zhou Dafu hadn’t processed it yet and instinctively responded, “Alright, Captain Li.”

Then he froze and quickly asked, his voice trembling, “Captain Li, what did you just say?”

The difference between “Captain Li” and “Master” was huge. Anyone could call someone “Captain Li,” but only a formal disciple could call Li Feng “Master.”

“If you didn’t hear it, forget it,” Li Feng said with an eye roll.

Zhou Dafu immediately grabbed onto Li Feng like he was afraid he’d disappear. “No, no… Master, I know I was wrong!”

Realizing what was happening, he quickly retrieved the tea mug, dropped to his knees, and held it up with both hands, full of reverence. “Master, please have some tea!”

Li Feng helped him up, accepted the cup, and said, “Dafu, I don’t have many rules. As long as you’re willing to learn, I’m willing to teach. But let me be clear—I’m strict. If you act the way you used to, it won’t work.”

“Alright, alright, Master! If I mess up, you can slap me yourself,” Zhou Dafu said with a fawning grin.

He knew plenty of people in the transport team wanted to apprentice under Li Feng, but none had succeeded. The fact that he’d been accepted? That was incredible. If others found out, they’d be so jealous.

One reason Li Feng took him in probably had to do with Zhou Yimin.

Zhou Dafu figured he should go buy something nice from Uncle Sixteen to show his sincerity—something valuable, like the traditional apprentice ceremony of old.

The apprenticeship ceremony, a long-standing tradition, was usually carried out by both the master and disciple. Sometimes the ceremony also included the master’s spouse, senior disciples, or others. In the past, the master-disciple relationship was considered second only to that of parent and child. As the saying went, “My parents gave me life, my master gave me skill,” and “Choosing a master is like choosing reincarnation.”

In some trades, once a person entered a master’s tutelage, their life was fully governed by the master. Even their parents had no say, and might not even get to see them. Because the bond was so significant, elaborate ceremonies were needed to acknowledge and safeguard it.

Seeing Zhou Dafu still standing there dumbfounded, Li Feng gave him a swift kick. “Why are you just standing around? Get to work!”

“Yes, Master! I’ll get to it right away!” Zhou Dafu said, beaming.

He went back to work, practically skipping.

Maybe it was the joy, but even the hard physical labor didn’t feel tiring anymore. Instead, he was thrilled—after all this time, he’d finally become Li Feng’s disciple.

In the steel factory, with both Uncle Sixteen and his master backing him, as long as he kept working hard, his future looked bright!

During work, the others eventually got wind of the news—Zhou Dafu had become Captain Li’s disciple. Everyone congratulated him and egged him on to treat them to a meal.

Zhou Dafu, in high spirits, didn’t even think twice and declared boldly, “Tomorrow we’re going to Donglaishun for hotpot!”

Truthfully, he wanted to enjoy a feast too.

(End of Chapter)