In 1968, a train from Ningyang to Hacheng slowly drove out of the platform, and the carriage was full of people. The train conductor Wang Yongge was doing a routine ticket check, and his young and serious face was full of seriousness.
On the same train, police officer Ma Kui was also dutifully patrolling to ensure the safety of passengers. No one expected that on this seemingly ordinary day, an accident would completely change the trajectory of the fate of these two people.
Suddenly, there was a commotion in the carriage. Ma Kui quickly arrived at the scene and found that it was a thief who was stealing. He took decisive action to subdue the criminals, thinking that it was just an ordinary law enforcement operation, but unexpectedly what followed was an unwarranted disaster.
"Wronged!" The thief suddenly shouted, "This police officer is the real thief!" He wanted to frame me! The surrounding passengers immediately chatted, and some began to suspect Ma Kui's motives.
Wang Yongge, as the train conductor, should have come forward to clarify the situation, but he hesitated. In that special era, one careless person could get yourself into trouble. In the end, Ma Kui was framed for this "thief catch" incident and was unjustly imprisoned.
When he was taken away, his eyes swept over Wang Yongge, and a trace of disappointment flashed in his eyes. Wang Yongge lowered his head, avoiding the questioning gaze, and his heart was full of complicated emotions—guilt, helplessness, and a hint of happiness.
In this way, the fates of two railway employees who were originally equivalent to each other were very different. Ma Kui is imprisoned on trumped-up charges, while Wang Yongge continues his career as a train conductor.
No one would have thought that this seemingly ordinary day would become a turning point in their lives. What is even more unpredictable is that ten years from now, their situation will take such a dramatic turn.
All this seems to be a huge joke played by fate, or a special test given to them by that era. As the wheels of the times roll forward, China's railway system is also quietly undergoing earth-shaking changes.
During this decade, in order to adapt to the growing demand for passenger transport and improve management efficiency, the railway sector has undergone a series of reforms and reorganizations. The passenger section came into being and became an important part of the railway system.
The importance of this newly established department, which is mainly responsible for the management of train staff, cannot be overstated. As a rule, passenger depots are only set up in the seat of the railway authority, in provincial capitals, and in important cities.
Taking Shenyang Railway Bureau (now renamed China Railway Shenyang Bureau Group Co., Ltd.) as an example, it has five passenger sections in Shenyang, Dalian, Changchun, Jilin and Jinzhou, which shows its large scale and wide influence.
In this wave of change, the Ningyang passenger section in "South to North" was also established, and its prototype is likely to be the Shenyang passenger section. The organizational structure of the passenger section has also gradually become clear: there is a passenger crew workshop (travel service workshop), a crew fleet, and under the crew team is the train crew group.
In this system, the conductor is roughly equivalent to the leader of a crew, who either does not belong to the cadre establishment or is an ordinary cadre without an administrative rank. At the same time, Wang Yongge seems to have seized the opportunity of change in this era.
Starting as an ordinary train conductor, he has climbed the ladder of the workplace in the past ten years. You must know that the head of the passenger section is generally at the level of the director, and the deputy section chief is at the level of the deputy director.
In contrast, the status of a train conductor is much lower. How did Wang Yongge complete this seemingly impossible leap in just ten years? This question makes people think deeply. In this tumultuous decade, everyone in the rail system is adapting to new rules and systems.
Some sink, some rise. Wang Yongge's promotion speed is undoubtedly enviable in the eyes of others. By the time 1978 came, the reform of the railway system had begun to bear fruit.
And in this year, an unexpected figure reappeared in the Ningyang passenger depot - the policeman Ma Kui, who was wrongfully imprisoned ten years ago. In 1978, when Ma Kui was finally rehabilitated and released from prison and returned to his familiar railway job, he found that his former colleague Wang Yongge had become the deputy head of the passenger section.
On the surface, Wang Yongge has completed an impressive promotion, jumping from an ordinary train conductor to a deputy director-level cadre, which is undoubtedly a huge leap in the railway system.
On closer examination, however, Wang Yongge's situation is suspicious, and there seems to be a subtle dissonance between his daily life and work status and his position. First, there is the issue of housing, which is confusing.
In the railway family home, as the highest-ranking deputy section chief, it stands to reason that Wang Yongge should enjoy housing treatment commensurate with his status. However, the fact is that he still lives in a bungalow like an ordinary worker.
What is even more puzzling is that when Ma Kui asked the organization to improve the housing conditions, the organization actually allocated him the best two-story building in the family compound instead of Wang Yongge, who had a higher status.
This contrast can't help but make people wonder whether Wang Yongge's identity as deputy section chief is not worthy of the name. Secondly, Wang Yongge's daily work status is also very different from people's expectations of the deputy section chief.
As the second-in-command of the passenger section, one should see him busy with various management matters or frequent communication with subordinates. However, Wang Yongge in reality seems to be unusually idle.
There are many scenes in the play where he is already busy in the kitchen when his son Wang Xin comes home from work, which seems to be incompatible with the work intensity of a deputy department-level cadre. What's even more puzzling is that Wang Yongge, as the deputy section chief, would actually take over the work of an ordinary train conductor.
In a special case, when Captain Li asked for leave, Wang Yongge actually took the shift in person. Not only is this behavior inconsistent with their status, but it is something that would be almost impossible to happen under the strict hierarchy of the railway system.
Even in the busiest and most scarce time like the Spring Festival, it is unimaginable for a deputy section leader to do the work of a train conductor. In addition, Wang Yongge's social circle is also unusually narrow.
As a deputy section chief, it stands to reason that there should be frequent visitors at home, or subordinates asking for advice, or colleagues contacting feelings. However, apart from interacting with the neighbors of the family home, it is almost impossible to see anyone visiting the house.
This state of "door to the bird" is extremely incommensurate with his identity as deputy section chief. All kinds of signs point to a question: Is Wang Yongge, the position of deputy section chief, really as beautiful as it seems? Whether he is marginalized,
Or is the position itself a fictitious position with no real power? In that special era, behind a person's promotion, there are often complex reasons and unspeakable helplessness.
Wang Yongge's situation may be a microcosm of the power structure of that era, with a stark contrast between the superficial brilliance and the inner dilemma. This contradiction not only reflects the ups and downs of individual fate, but also reflects the pains of the entire social system in the process of change.
When Ma Kui returned to work, fate seemed to favor him. The organization not only rehabilitated him, but also gave him special care.
When Ma Kui made a request to the organization for housing, the response of the organization was surprising – they actually allocated the best two-story building in the railway family compound to Ma Kui.
This small building stands out among the family homes. Other workers, including Wang Yongge, the deputy section chief, can only live in ordinary bungalows. At the same time, Ma Kui's network seems to be expanding.
He established a deep friendship with former prison warden Peng Mingjie, and Peng Mingjie's daughter Peng Yongli even recognized Ma Kui as her second father and lived in Ma Kui's house while studying in Ningyang.
This network of relationships has given Ma Kui a certain amount of social resources, allowing him to help others in times of need, such as getting rare sleeper tickets for Peng Yongli's parents.
In contrast, Wang Yongge's life seems somewhat isolated. Despite his role as deputy section chief, his social circle was confined to the neighborhood of the family home. Very few people came to visit, which was extremely incommensurate with his position.
This contrast can't help but make people think: did Wang Yongge take the initiative to choose a low-key life, or has his power actually been hollowed out? In this age of uncertainty, apparent positions and actual power are often not equal.
The encounter between Ma Kui and Wang Yongge reflects the complexity of the power structure of this era, as well as the subtle role played by human warmth and coldness in it. Looking back on Wang Yongge's ten-year promotion road, from train captain to deputy section chief, this leap is indeed amazing.
However, when you think about it, this experience is full of doubts and contradictions. First of all, we need to consider the possibility of this rapid promotion. Under the strict hierarchy of the railway system, the jump from a train conductor with no administrative rank to a deputy section chief at the deputy section level usually takes longer and more intermediate positions.
Secondly, Wang Yongge's actual situation as deputy section chief is also worth pondering. His daily life, work status, and social circle do not match his position. Moreover, we cannot ignore the background of that particular era.
In the decade from 1968 to 1978, Chinese society underwent tremendous changes. Finally, we also need to consider that this story may have some plot holes.
If Wang Yongge's actual position is team captain rather than deputy section leader, then many of the irrationalities can be explained. In this era full of uncertainties, the relationship between personal destiny and the general trend of the times may be more complex than we think.
Wang Yongge's experience may be a microcosm of the fate of many ordinary people in that era, reflecting the unpredictability of personal encounters in social change.