The revelation of a mysterious migrant worker’s dairy: The days when I rub the chip -- Hanxin.
I would never forget those days and nights I was invited to rub the Chip Hanxin, which are the most glorious time to me.
It was one of the dog days in the summer of 2002. The man, who afterwards guided me to the holy palace of science, appeared in my preceding working site. His name is Mr. Chen and he is a well-worshiped scientist. He took out from his chest a small piece of iron chip (now I know it is called IC) and then he said to me firmly ‘For a long time I’ve been searching fruitlessly for a genius IC manufacturer. I’ve never imagined before, that here is the place where dragons and tigers are hidden, until I find you! Since the callus on your hands shows your tenacity and the up-and-downs of your huge heavy hammer disclose your superb skill. Follow me! I’ll lead you into the upper-class society of Chinese science realm.’
So I dogged his step to the base center. Mr. Chen said that IC is the most magic science product in the world and it took him several years to comprehend the shortcut of its manufacture. Somehow, he always got some regrets, for instance, those letters I can hardly understand invariably appear on the chips. ‘It’s the trial of the God’ said Mr. Chen. Since he told me I was destined to help him I had to put my heart and soul into every my action – to rub off the seal of gods.
Were there a god in my life, it would be Mr. Chen. It is him that took me from an ignorable building site to a sacred science palace. It is him that gave me the chance to make an unprecedented creation with my own hands and pushed me into the mainstream. And it is only him that made me, a migrant worker, instantly go beyond the gap of social status and let me stand out among my common fellows. Thinking of that, my tears surged out. Mr. Chen, you are my benefactor! |