Wild Ginger

My name is Jiang Xue. Ginger is ginger, the older it gets, the spicier it gets. Snow can provide help in times of trouble, or it can add insult to injury—it depends on who is right. --- In 2003, I was 24 years old and moved to the city from the countryside. First job: clerk in building materials market, monthly salary 300. My colleagues thought I was uncouth and called me "that country girl". I didn't say anything, just silently took down everyone's phone numbers. The boss's, the clients', the opponents' – no one was left out. Later, the boss said: "This girl's brain works better than a computer." Later, the client said: "If you have any questions, please contact Sister Jiang. She is more reliable than my own sister." Later, the opponent said: "That woman is too hot to mess with." --- Someone asked me why. With a yellowed address book. Because I haven't relied on any man in twenty years. The person who wanted to make me "unable to survive" back then is now sitting in my office and calling me "Mr. Jiang." --- This is the story of a wild ginger. It is also the story of every woman who grows out of the ground. Click in and I'll tell you. ---