Chapter 740 Planning a House 6
After a day of hard work, Yan Bugui hurried back home, dragging his slightly tired body. The slightly old wooden door slammed shut behind him, temporarily isolating him from the outside world. But he had no time to sit down and take a breath, as his mind was full of the important matter that was pressing on his mind and needed to be resolved urgently.
He walked straight to the somewhat worn-out desk in the room and stretched out his hand to open the old drawer. The track of the drawer seemed to be not smooth, making a "creaking" sound, as if protesting the fate of being frequently opened and closed. Yan Bugui rummaged in the drawer, his eyes eagerly searching among the messy items. Finally, his hand touched a slightly wrinkled piece of letter paper. This piece of letter paper may have been casually stuffed in the corner of the drawer before, and the corners were slightly curled up, with faint traces left by the years.
Then, he found a fountain pen on the other side of the drawer. The pen body had lost some paint, and the originally smooth surface had become mottled. The cap was also a little loose. He gently pulled off the cap and found that the ink inside was almost used up. The tip of the pen gently scratched on the paper, leaving only a shallow, intermittent mark. But at this moment, this fountain pen that was almost out of ink became the most precious "weapon" in his hand.
Yan Bugui carefully spread the letter on the table, as if he was treating an invaluable treasure. The letter made a slight friction sound on the table, as if cheering softly for the upcoming mission. He stood in front of the table, took a deep breath, and tried to calm his heart that was pounding with excitement. His fingers trembled slightly, and this trembling was not due to nervousness, but from the uncontrollable excitement deep in his heart. In his mind, it seemed that such a picture had emerged: once this letter was written and sent to the hands of the leader, the leader would immediately pay attention to it after seeing it, and then issue a series of instructions, and everyone's life would immediately change dramatically, and those long-troubled problems would be solved.
At this time, the third aunt was not idle either. When she saw Yan Bugui preparing to write a letter, she hurriedly got busy. She found a somewhat old inkstone from the corner, took out an ink stick, and began to grind the ink carefully. Although most of the fountain pens on the market now use convenient and fast ink bags, the third aunt always felt that grinding ink in this traditional way could make the letter more "ritualistic". She felt that only letters written with ink ground by themselves could more truly express their sincerity and expectations.
While grinding ink, the third aunt kept muttering to herself, "We have to write down all our difficulties and let the leaders take a good look. We are a big family with old and young, and life is really not easy. The house is leaking, there is not enough food, and there is also the problem of children's schooling. We have to talk to the leaders about it." Her nagging words were like a folk song full of the breath of life, echoing in the small room.
Yan Bugui frowned, and his brows seemed to be engraved with the hardships of life and expectations for the future. He thought for a moment, constantly organizing words in his mind, thinking about how to accurately express everyone's voice. Finally, he slowly put down his pen. At first, his handwriting was a little restrained, and each stroke was written carefully, like a novice performing on stage for the first time, standing under the spotlight, full of nervousness and anxiety, and a little unable to let go. Those words were arranged crookedly on the letter paper, as if they were a group of shy children who did not dare to show their style to the fullest.
But as his thoughts gradually unfolded, Yan Bugui seemed to have entered a world that belonged only to him. Bits and pieces of everyone's life kept appearing in his mind, and those difficult scenes and helpless sighs were all transformed into words under his pen. His handwriting became more and more fluent, like a river that was originally blocked, suddenly broke through many obstacles and began to flow endlessly. Those words stretched and jumped wantonly on the letter paper, as if telling everyone's desires and dreams.
"Dear leader: Hello! We are the employees in the unit who have been deeply troubled by housing problems for a long time. In these seemingly ordinary but hard days, we are writing this letter to you with an extremely sincere heart and all our courage..." Yan Bugui sat in front of the somewhat shabby desk, holding the pen that was almost out of ink tightly in his hand, his eyes fixed on the spread out letter paper in front of him, and while writing, he repeatedly considered every word in his mind.
His brows were sometimes furrowed, sometimes relaxed, as if he was having a heated debate with the words in his mind. He knew the weight of this letter, which carried the hopes and expectations of many employees in the unit. He had to accurately express the difficulties faced by everyone so that the leader could empathize with him, but he also had to not be too offensive so as not to offend the leader. He was carving every word and every sentence as if he was carving a precious work of art, carefully and repeatedly thinking about it.
"Old Yan, this is a brilliantly written sentence!" Auntie No. 3 had quietly come over. She bent down slightly, staring at the contents of the letter with an approving look on her face. She couldn't help but praise, "Look, 'deeply troubled by housing problems for a long time'. These few words have poured out all our sufferings over the years and written out our difficulties. The leader will definitely understand our situation once he sees it."
When Yan Bugui heard the praise, the corners of his mouth rose slightly, revealing a gratified smile, but the pen in his hand did not stop, and continued to rustle on the letter paper.
However, Auntie Three was not immersed in the praise. After a while, she moved closer and scanned the letter carefully. Suddenly, she frowned, as if she found something wrong. She immediately raised her voice and said, "Old Yan, can you write this more sincerely? Look, we have suffered so much for our work over the years, and we have been silently enduring these difficulties. Now we have no choice but to ask for help. If you can write our helplessness and urgency more deeply, so that the leaders can feel our difficulties more, maybe the leaders will pay more attention to our affairs."
Yan Bugui stopped writing, raised his head, looked at the third aunt thoughtfully, nodded and said, "You make sense, I'll think about it." After that, he lowered his head again, scribbled on the letter paper, and reorganized his language.
With the joint efforts of the two, the letter was like a thriving sapling, gradually taking shape. The letter described in detail the crowded housing conditions of everyone, and the scenes seemed to be right in front of us. In some families, several generations were crowded in a small, dim house, and the room was filled with a damp and stale smell. The children had no independent study space and could only curl up at a small table in the corner, working hard on their homework under the dim light, and their thoughts were interrupted from time to time by the noise coming from the surroundings. The elderly also had no quiet environment for recuperation. They were often unable to fall asleep at night because of the crying of children and the talking of young people, and their health was getting worse day by day.
The letter also mentioned that everyone has been silently enduring these difficulties for many years for the sake of work. Every day, they get up before dawn and rush to work, working diligently at their posts without slacking off. At night, they drag their tired bodies back home, but still have to face the overcrowded living environment. They know that the unit also has its own difficulties, so they have been swallowing their bitterness and have never made any requests to the leaders. But now, with the increase in family population and the increase in life pressure, they are really desperate, so they have to muster up the courage to ask the leaders for help, hoping that the leaders can lend a hand and help them solve this urgent problem.
At the end of the letter, Yan Bugui's pen was suspended above the letter paper, and he didn't put it down. He raised his head slightly, and his eyes slowly fell on the third aunt, with a hint of inquiry in his eyes, and his eyes were full of expectation, as if waiting for a wonderful suggestion that could make the finishing touch. His lips moved, and he hesitated to speak. Finally, he mustered up the courage to whisper: "Third aunt, how should I write this ending? I'm not sure in my heart."
The third aunt was standing by, staring at the letter. When she heard Yan Bugui's words, she was stunned for a moment, then fell into deep thought. She frowned slightly, her eyes showing a thoughtful look, and she kept muttering, "This ending... needs to be a little powerful..." She paced back and forth, her footsteps echoing softly in the small room, as if every step was adding inspiration to the idea of the ending.
After a while, the third aunt stopped walking, her eyes lit up, as if she had suddenly thought of a good idea. She quickly walked to Yan Bugui, gestured with her hands, and said, "The ending should be a little bit powerful, so that the leader knows our determination. We can't just talk about our difficulties, we also have to express our trust in the leader. Think about it, the leader is busy every day, if he sees that we are determined and trust him, maybe he will pay more attention to our work."
Yan Bugui's eyes flashed with approval after hearing this. He kept nodding his head, muttering, "You're right, you're right." He nodded so hard that it seemed as if he was going to nod his head. He took a deep breath, as if to muster up courage, and then lowered his head again, and the pen in his hand gently fell on the letter paper.
His pen tip rustled on the letter paper, and every word was written with great care, as if he was writing everyone's hope for the future. "We are well aware that the leaders are busy with work, and that there are mountains of affairs to deal with every day. Every decision is related to the development of the unit and the well-being of many employees. But in order to have a stable living environment, so that children can have a quiet learning space, and the elderly can have a comfortable place to recuperate, and so that we can devote ourselves to work with a fuller spirit and more energy, and better contribute to the unit, we hope that the leaders can sympathize with our difficulties and approve our request for housing. All of us employees will remember the care of the leaders, turn this care into motivation for work, devote ourselves to work with greater enthusiasm, contribute to the development of the unit, and live up to the expectations of the leaders."
After finishing the letter, Yan Bugui did not put down his pen immediately, but went through it again with Auntie No. 3. Their eyes were fixed on every word on the letter, not missing any possible typos or incoherent sentences. Yan Bugui read the letter while whispering, and discussed with Auntie No. 3 when he was unsure. Auntie No. 3 also frowned, thinking seriously, and occasionally putting forward her own opinions.
After confirming that there were no typos or incoherent sentences, Yan Bugui breathed a sigh of relief, as if he had completed an important task. He carefully folded the letter, his movements so gentle as if he was treating a fragile treasure. He put the folded letter into an envelope, which was brand new and still had a faint smell of ink. They also carefully wrote the leader's name and unit address on the envelope, and each word was written neatly, horizontally and vertically, as if they were writing about their expectations for the future. They looked so serious, as if they were completing an extremely sacred mission. Their eyes revealed determination and hope, as if once this letter was sent, it would bring them the stable life they had always dreamed of.
"Old Yan, let's send this letter out tomorrow." The third aunt said, her eyes full of expectation. Yan Bugui nodded and said, "Okay, I'll go early tomorrow morning. I hope this letter can play a role and let us get a house soon."
The next day, Yan Bugui got up early, put on his cleanest clothes, and walked towards the office with the letter carrying everyone's hope. Along the way, he felt nervous and expectant, like a student who was about to take an important exam and didn't know whether his answer would be recognized.
After arriving at the company, Yan Bugui lingered at the door of the leader's office for a long time. He held the envelope tightly in his hands, and his palms were sweating. He was worried that the leader would reject their request, and at the same time he hoped that the leader would understand their difficulties. Finally, he mustered up the courage and knocked on the door of the leader's office.
"Come in." The leader's voice came from inside. Yan Bugui took a deep breath, opened the door and walked in. The leader saw that it was Yan Bugui and asked in surprise: "Old Yan, what can I do for you?" Yan Bugui handed the letter to the leader and said: "Leader, this is a letter from some employees in our unit who have housing difficulties. I hope you can take a look." The leader took the letter, nodded, and said: "Okay, I'll take a look first, you go back first."
After Yan Bugui came out of the leader's office, he was still feeling uneasy. He didn't know how the leader would react after reading the letter, whether he would take their request seriously or just throw the letter aside. In the next few days, he was looking forward to good news every day, but there was no movement in the unit.
Xu Damao, Auntie San, Lao Wang, Lao Li and others were also very anxious and came to Yan Bugui to inquire about the situation. Yan Bugui shook his head helplessly and said, "The leader hasn't replied to me yet, let's wait a little longer.