Your father wrote a letter, asking you to go. He will arrange a good job for you.,Du Ru stood at the front gate of Beijing's First Cotton Textile Factory. An old man sat at the entrance, staring intently at the stranger as if he were a thief.,His clothes were covered in dust, his hair was messy like a bird's nest, and he hadn't washed his face for days. His face was gray and dirty - who could tell what he looked like!。