female cadres

[Female Cadre] [Author: Unknown]
As I write this with great excitement, I still can't believe it's true, but it really happened, and I saw and heard it with my own eyes. It's about my mother, Yu Lili, who is forty years old. She's a university cadre, working in the Women's Affairs Committee.

She's a rather old-fashioned person, diligent and hardworking, and gets along well with others. In short, she's just an ordinary middle-level cadre, nothing particularly special. I don't attend the university where she works, but I live nearby, so I often visit her, and I know some of the university leaders.

Her office is in an inconspicuous spot on the third floor of the administration building. Women's affairs aren't a priority for the university, so they haven't received much attention. I know several of the female cadres in my mother's office; I usually call them "Auntie." There are seven or eight women in their forties or fifties, like my mother, who all seem to be housewives, and they're quite polite to me.

I imagine there's no power struggle among them, since the Women's Affairs Committee has neither power nor money, and the work is quite leisurely. My mother's work is usually quite light; she comes home on time every day to cook and do housework, and I've enjoyed this lifestyle for many years. However, every year during the period from our winter vacation to the Lunar New Year, my mother seems busier than usual. She rushes to work early every morning, and sometimes even works overtime on Saturdays and Sundays.

I've asked her before if she still has a lot of work to do during winter vacation, and why she's busier than usual. She always says it's vacation time, and she needs to summarize the year's work and organize a lot of data, etc. I didn't pay much attention, but I always felt a little strange.

Before I knew it, winter vacation had arrived again, and I could finally relax.

At the end of this year, several administrative departments at the school underwent reshuffling, including the Women's Work Committee. The previous director was replaced due to her age, and my mother successfully became the director of the Women's Work Committee. She's been quite happy these past few days; after all, she's worked hard for so many years, and finally became the director at forty years old. I'm happy for my mother too.

As soon as winter break started, Mom became busy, just like every year. This year, being a director, she seemed even more enthusiastic about her work, leaving early and returning late every day, as if rushing to do something. She always seemed quite tired when she got home, but also very happy, as if she had done something interesting all day.

This Saturday, Mom hurriedly finished breakfast at seven in the morning and rushed out. I said, "Mom, you have to work on Saturday?" She said, "Isn't it always like this? There's a lot of work at the end of the year, everyone has to work overtime. Besides, I just became a director this year, so I have to work even harder, don't you think?" She said with a smile and walked out the door.

The question that had been surfacing in my mind every year resurfaced, even stronger than before: "What kind of work do they actually do?" Watching Mom's receding figure from the window, I asked myself silently. No, I have to find out this year! I decided to secretly follow her tomorrow to see for myself.

The next day, Mom was leaving again just after seven o'clock. I said, "Mom, I'm going to a classmate's house to play today, I might be back late." She said, "Okay, don't stay out too late!" and turned to leave.

As soon as she closed the door, I quickly got dressed, put on my shoes, and went out. I saw Mom had already set off on her electric bicycle, so I immediately took my mountain bike from the garage and chased after her. Luckily, she wasn't riding very fast, and soon I saw a woman in a blue coat in the distance—that was Mom.

I kept a distance from her, and half an hour later, I followed her to the school. "Mom's here to work," I thought. School was quiet after the holidays; most students had gone home, and the campus felt deserted. She didn't ride to the administration building, which caught my attention. Did they not work there?

I saw Mom ride her bike to a small building behind the teaching building. It was an abandoned building; I remembered it used to be used by the school's arts department for rehearsals. After the multi-purpose activity building was built, it was no longer used, and the building looked rather dilapidated, so no one paid much attention to it.

"What's she doing there?" I wondered to myself. To avoid my mother finding my car, I deliberately parked it in a shady spot next to the library; I figured no one would go there.

When I ran back to the abandoned building, I saw seven or eight women already there. I hid in a small grove of trees nearby and peeked out. I recognized them as key teachers from the Women's Committee, the ones who shared an office with my mother. They were all women in their forties or fifties, ordinary housewives, as I mentioned before.

Five minutes later, someone arrived on a bicycle. She was also a teacher from the Women's Committee, the same age as them. She said to my mother, "Director Yu, you're here? I'm sorry I'm late." My mother smiled and said, "Not late at all, just in time. You've all been working so hard lately. Let's go in!" My mother walked in front, followed by seven colleagues. My mother took out a key, unlocked a rusty lock on the building door, and they all went inside. I heard the door lock from the inside. My doubts deepened. What were those female teachers doing in this abandoned building?

I emerged from the woods and circled the building. I noticed a broken lock on one window, so I opened it and carefully climbed inside. The floor was covered in a thick layer of dust; it seemed no one had been there for a long time.

There was no one on the first floor, but I heard some noises from the second floor. I quietly climbed up, feeling like a thief.

The sounds were coming from a room. I went over; the door was closed, but I could definitely hear women talking inside. I circled the room; the windows were covered by thick curtains, making it impossible to see inside. What should I do? Then I saw a back door. I gently pushed it, and it opened a crack. Luckily, the back door only had a loose pin tumbler lock on the handle.

I crouched down there and peered through the crack. My mother and the seven teachers from the Women's Committee were indeed inside. This room must have been a former dance studio. One wall in the front was a large mirror, and the floor was covered with a thick carpet.

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