sbdcsierra Chapter 145 Hosting a University Ceremony
Chapter 145 Hosting a University Ceremony
Chapter 145 Hosting a University Ceremony
When Lin Dong returned to his room, it was almost ten o'clock.
Mom was cleaning up the dishes in the kitchen, while Dad was watching TV in the living room. The Spring Festival Gala was still playing on TV, but the volume was turned down very low, probably so as not to disturb him.
He lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
My phone is on the bedside table.
I'm still going over the code in my head. I haven't even finished writing half of the page tables for memory management, and the desktop system hasn't even started yet. I need to finish these things after the New Year.
My phone vibrated.
Nokia's vibration motor is quite powerful; when placed on a wooden bedside table, it hums loudly, and the entire surface of the table vibrates.
Lin Dong reached out and picked it up; the screen displayed Uncle Cai's name.
A short message.
Uncle Cai typed very carefully, not even skipping punctuation: "President Lin, Happy New Year! Wishing the company great success in mobile phone sales next year! Good health and all the best!"
Lin Dong pressed the keys for a long time before replying with four words: "Happy New Year."
My phone hadn't even been put down when it vibrated again.
Zhang Ming: "President Lin, Happy New Year! Don't overwork yourself with system-related tasks; we'll handle it together after the New Year."
Lin Dong looked at it for two seconds and replied with "Okay".
Then Zhou Chengyu said, "President Lin, Happy New Year. Let's try to reduce the touch algorithm score to below 10 after the New Year."
"Thanks for your hard work."
Su Xiaowen: "Happy New Year. Don't worry about the casing."
Cheng Chuan: "Happy New Year, President Lin! Next year, smash an Apple product with your phone!"
Then came another message from Cheng Yu: "Happy New Year, President Lin. Cheng Chuan has had too much to drink, ignore him."
Ding Xiao: "Happy New Year." (Four words)
Li Guohui: "President Lin, Happy New Year! Don't worry about the factory, I'll keep an eye on the 500 sets."
Wang Mei also posted a polite message, thanking President Lin for his care and so on.
Zheng Hao: "Brother Dong, Happy New Year."
Lin Dong replied one by one.
His fingers were getting sore from typing on the Nokia keyboard, but he didn't stop.
Chen Long: "Happy New Year."
Xu Zang: "Happy New Year."
After replying to the last message, Lin Dong placed his phone on his chest and stared at the ceiling.
There were still occasional firecracker sounds outside the window, but they were farther away than before.
The Spring Festival in Shenzhen is not as lively as in my hometown. There are not many people setting off firecrackers, but you can still hear a few occasionally, far away and muffled, like someone beating a drum in the distance.
My phone vibrated again.
This time it wasn't a text message, it was a phone call.
The screen displayed Chen Wei'an's name.
Lin Dong answered the call.
"Mr. Lin, Happy New Year." Chen Wei'an's voice was cheerful; the background was quiet, so it didn't sound like she was outside. "Is it New Year's Eve in China now?"
"Hmm," Lin Dong said. "How about you over there?"
"During the day. At the company," Chen Wei'an said. "We don't celebrate the Spring Festival here; it's a normal workday."
He knew Chen Wei'an was alone in San Francisco, with no family, no friends, only work. He had left her there because he trusted her, but now, thinking back, being alone at the company on New Year's Eve was indeed not a good feeling.
"The cooperation with the Rossi family is progressing smoothly," Chen Wei'an said, her tone regaining its professional crispness. "The new company is operating normally, and the service fees for the first quarter have already been received."
Mr. Jackson was also a great help; he had a very good impression of us after that last shipment. Last month he even introduced me to a client, but the quantity they wanted was too small, so I didn't accept it.
"If you should answer, then answer," Lin Dong said.
"The volume is too small, and the profit isn't enough to cover the cost of one trip," Chen Wei'an said. "Besides, those small clients are troublesome and demanding. I don't want to waste my energy on them."
She's still the same; she knows her limits and what she should and shouldn't do. Keeping her in San Francisco was the right decision.
"You've worked hard," he said.
He paused, then asked, "Any news about Anderson lately?"
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.
Chen Wei'an said, "He mentioned a batch of goods a while ago, saying they were in talks. I didn't ask for details, but he said he would let you know once it was confirmed."
"it is good."
We chatted for a bit more about things in North America.
Chen Wei'an said everything was fine and told Lin Dong not to worry.
It's over.
When she said "Happy New Year" at the end, her tone was a little softer than usual.
Lin Dong put down his phone.
After thinking for a moment, he picked it up again and turned to Anderson's number.
He originally planned to call tomorrow, but after thinking about it, he pressed the button anyway.
There's a 16-hour time difference between San Francisco and Shenzhen; it's daytime there now, so Anderson should be at work.
It rang several times, then I answered.
"Magic Lin!" Anderson's voice boomed from the receiver, with that exaggerated enthusiasm typical of Americans. "Happy New Year! I know about Chinese New Year! I saw it on TV, all red, lots of firecrackers!"
Lin Dong was so startled by his loud voice that he held the phone a little further away: "Happy New Year."
"You ate that... what's it called... dumplings? Yes, dumplings?" Anderson said. "I went to eat them yesterday, at the one in Chinatown, they were pretty good. I don't know what kind of filling they had, but the proprietress said they were delicious."
Lin Dong's lips twitched slightly: "I ate it."
"That's good," Anderson said. "How have you been lately? Has your phone been finished?"
"not yet."
"Soon?"
"Soon." Anderson chuckled on the other end of the phone. "Magic Lin, you're still so concise. I've known you for over a year, and you never say a word more than necessary."
Lin Dong didn't respond. Anderson didn't seem to care and continued talking to himself.
They said the partnership with the Rossi family was stable, and the new company had already started making a profit, albeit small, but the momentum was good. They also said Jackson had been a great help; after that last shipment, his reputation in the industry had improved significantly, and many more people were coming to him.
Lin Dong listened, occasionally humming in agreement.
Anderson spoke for about five minutes, then suddenly stopped: "Magic Lin, is something wrong?"
Lin Dong did not answer immediately.
He leaned against the headboard, looking out at the dark night.
"Is there any chance of getting another batch of that kind of aluminum," he said.
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.
Anderson's voice became serious: "I was just about to tell you this."
"We're negotiating two shipments," Anderson said. "The specifications are similar to the last one, but the quality should be better. One shipment is from Canada, and the other is from Europe. Both companies are going through the process, and if all goes well, we should be able to place an order in March or April."
Anderson added, "MagicLin, don't worry. I'll let you know as soon as I have any news. You helped me, I won't forget." "Okay," Lin Dong said, "I'll wait for your good news."
Anderson laughed: "Happy New Year, Magic Lin. I'll be the first to buy your phone next year when it's finished."
Lin Dong's lips twitched slightly: "I'll give you one later."
He hung up. Lin Dong placed his phone on the bedside table and stared at the ceiling. March or April. Soon. By then, the materials would be in place, and the funds would be plentiful again. He absolutely had to resolve the system issues by then.
Another round of firecrackers went off outside the window, a little closer than before. Probably some kid stayed up until midnight, insisting on watching until they were all gone before going to sleep.
Lin Dong turned over and pulled the blanket over himself. Sleepiness slowly crept in, and his eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
The phone stopped vibrating.
On the first day of the Lunar New Year, Lin Dong was awakened by the sound of firecrackers.
There was a crackling sound outside, then it quieted down, then another sound came from afar. He opened his eyes and glanced at his phone—it was eight in the morning. Sunlight streamed in through the gaps in the curtains, falling warmly on the foot of the bed.
He lay down for a while, then got up.
As I pushed open the door, the aroma of braised goose wafted over again.
Mom was busy in the kitchen, while Dad was watching TV in the living room. The TV was replaying last night's Spring Festival Gala.
"Are you up?" Li Xiuzhen poked her head out from the kitchen. "Go wash up, breakfast will be ready soon."
Lin Dong responded and went to wash up.
When I got back, breakfast was already laid out on the table: congee, fried dough sticks, fried eggs, and several side dishes. Mom was still busy in the kitchen, I wondered what she was doing.
"Making so much on the first day of the Lunar New Year." Lin Dong sat down and picked up his chopsticks.
"It's Chinese New Year," Li Xiuzhen said, bringing out a plate of rice cakes. "Eat more."
Lin Guodong also sat down, picked up the porridge and took a sip.
The three people sat around the table eating breakfast.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling warmly on the table. A comedy routine was playing on TV, eliciting bursts of laughter from the audience, but their table remained quiet.
Halfway through the meal, Li Xiuzhen suddenly said, "Adong, this year's Lunar New Year is the happiest year your father has ever had."
Lin Dong glanced at her.
"Your dad had a few drinks yesterday and told me he'd had a worthwhile life." Li Xiuzhen smiled. "I said, 'This is nothing.'"
Lin Guodong coughed lightly beside him and said, "Let's eat."
Li Xiuzhen smiled and said nothing more.
Lin Dong lowered his head and continued drinking his porridge. The porridge was warm, just right for his mouth. The fried egg had slightly burnt edges, a taste he had grown up with. Sunlight streamed in through the window, falling on the table, on the porridge bowls, and on the three of them.
He thought that there would be more and more days like this in the future.
On the third day of the Lunar New Year, Lin Dong went to the company.
The lab was empty; the lights were off, and the machines were shut down. He turned on the light, walked to his desk, and turned on his computer.
The screen displays system code written before the Lunar New Year; half of the page table for memory management is still unfinished.
He sat down and started writing when his phone rang. It was Uncle Cai calling.
"Mr. Lin, Happy Chinese New Year. I've scheduled an interview for that systems engineer position for the eighth day of the new year. Is that alright?"
"OK."
"Then I've spoken to him." Uncle Cai paused for a moment, "President Lin, please take a good rest these few days and don't keep coming to the company."
"understood."
He hung up. Lin Dong continued writing.
Outside the window, the streets of Shenzhen on the third day of the Lunar New Year were deserted, with hardly anyone around. Occasionally, a car would pass by, its sound quickly fading into the distance. He had been writing for two hours, finishing the remaining part of the page table, compiling, running it, and there were no errors.
He leaned back in his chair, looking at the progress information on the screen. Almost there. Just a few more lines of code, and the system will be running. Then the phone will be complete.
He saved the code, shut down the computer, and stood up. He walked to the window and looked out at Shenzhen. A red flag fluttered in the wind atop a distant building. There were few cars and people on the road. The whole city seemed to be asleep.
He stood there for a while, then turned and left.
When he came back, his mother was watching TV in the living room. When she saw him come in, she put down the remote control and said, "Adong, there's something I want to tell you."
Lin Dong changed his shoes and sat down on the sofa: "What is it?"
"A university banquet," Li Xiuzhen said. "We agreed to have it during the Spring Festival. You've finished your third day of the Lunar New Year, so how about we go back to Shantou in the next couple of days?"
"Okay," Lin Dong said. "When?"
Li Xiuzhen's eyes lit up: "The fourth day? Go back on the fourth, hold the ceremony on the fifth, and come back on the sixth."
Lin Dong nodded: "Okay."
"Then I'll make a call." Li Xiuzhen had already picked up her phone and started scrolling through her contacts, "Your eldest uncle, second aunt, third uncle,..."
Auntie—you have to call them all.
On the fifth day of the Lunar New Year, the banquet was held at the Haiwan Restaurant in Miancheng. I had eaten there once last year, and the manager remembered me, greeting me from afar: "General Manager Lin, Happy New Year!"
Li Xiuzhen walked ahead, her back ramrod straight. Lin Guodong followed behind, his steps much steadyer than usual. All the relatives had arrived: her eldest uncle, aunt, second aunt, third uncle, and cousin—filling three tables.
Third Uncle sat in the main seat, saw Lin Dong, and nodded: "Okay."
After a few rounds of drinks, Li Xiuzhen stood up, her face flushed, holding her wine glass. "Dear relatives and friends," she said, "Adong got into Shenzhen University last year, but we didn't have a celebration until now. Let's make up for it today." She glanced at Lin Dong, "That kid is really promising."
The eldest aunt shouted from below, "Xiuzhen, now you can finally enjoy life!"
Li Xiuzhen smiled, her eyes a little red: "What's there to enjoy? He's very busy."
Lin Dong sat at the table, watching his mother chat and laugh with the relatives, and watching his father clink glasses with others. He picked up his glass, took a sip, and said nothing.
The banquet ended in the afternoon.
Li Xiuzhen had drunk quite a bit today; her face was flushed. She stood at the restaurant entrance seeing off her relatives, telling each of them, "Drive carefully on the road."
"Make a phone call when you get home."
Lin Guodong stood next to her, and he had also drunk quite a bit. He was usually not very talkative, but today he could chat with anyone for a few words.
When her aunt left, she held Li Xiuzhen's hand and said, "Xiuzhen, you've made something of yourself now, your son has become successful." Li Xiuzhen smiled and waved her hand, but the smile spread from the corner of her mouth to the corner of her eyes, impossible to hide.
On the eighth day of the Lunar New Year, the person Uncle Cai had arranged came for the interview.
Lin Dong sat in the conference room, Uncle Cai was next to him, and Zheng Hao stood at the door.
The man was brought in by the receptionist. He was in his early thirties, thin, wore glasses, a dark blue jacket, and carried a backpack.
"Hello, Mr. Lin." He was a little nervous and extended his hand.
Lin Dong shook hands briefly: "Sit down."
The person sat down, placed their backpack beside their feet, and sat up straight.
Lin Dong glanced at him and flipped through the resume in his hand. Chen Zhiyuan, thirty-two years old, bachelor's degree, had worked at two small companies and completed two full system porting projects. The resume wasn't impressive, but his project experience was solid.
"What systems have you worked on?" Lin Dong asked.
"Liu," Chen Zhiyuan said, "I used to work at a tablet company in Shenzhen, where I was involved in everything from kernel trimming to driver adaptation to upper-layer applications."
Have you ever built a framework from scratch?
Chen Zhiyuan was taken aback: "From zero?"
"Yes. It's not about taking existing material and modifying it; it's about writing it myself."
Chen Zhiyuan thought for a moment and shook his head: "No. All I do is porting, modifying existing frameworks. I've never built a framework from scratch."
Lin Dong nodded. He didn't show anything, but he understood. This person could port files, fix bugs, and tune parameters. But he couldn't build frameworks. He needed someone who could start from scratch, not just someone who could make minor modifications.
I asked a few more technical questions, and Chen Zhiyuan answered them fairly well. He understood the basic concepts of the Liu kernel boot process, driver model, and memory management, but he became vague when it came to going deeper.
Lin Dong stopped and looked at him: "Chen Zhiyuan, I have a general idea of your skill level. You're fine with transplants. But what I need here isn't a transplant."
Chen Zhiyuan opened his mouth, but didn't say anything.
"I need someone who can build a system from scratch," Lin Dong said. "Your current abilities aren't up to par."
The meeting room was silent for a few seconds.
Chen Zhiyuan lowered his head, then after a few seconds, raised it again: "President Lin, I know I'm not capable enough. But I want to learn. I've been doing transplants for so many years, always wanting to move up, but I haven't had the chance. Could you—give me a chance?"
Lin Dong looked at him. The man's eyes seemed sincere. But sincerity was useless; the system couldn't wait.
"Go back and wait for news," Lin Dong said.
Chen Zhiyuan stood up, picked up his backpack, walked to the door, and glanced back. He seemed about to say something, but swallowed it back, pushed the door open, and went out.
The meeting room fell silent.
Uncle Cai asked cautiously, "President Lin, this—"
"No," Lin Dong said.
Uncle Cai nodded and didn't ask any more questions.
Lin Dong stood up and walked to the window. Outside was the street of Shenzhen. It was the eighth day of the Lunar New Year, and many companies hadn't started work yet; there weren't many people on the streets. He stood there for a long time.
Uncle Cai said from behind, "President Lin, I'll look again."
Lin Dong didn't turn around: "Keep searching."
Uncle Cai responded and went out.
Lin Dong stood alone by the window. He had been handling the system alone for almost a month.
Kernel trimming, driver adaptation, process management, and memory management.
He wrote tens of thousands of lines of code, and the system booted up, but it was far from usable. The desktop wasn't written, the application layer wasn't written, and the interfaces weren't defined. Writing it all by himself was too slow.
He needs people. But not people like Chen Zhiyuan. He needs people who can build the framework with him, people who can start from scratch.