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!,The old man entered the security room, and soon voices were heard from inside.。
