At Huahong Technology, there is a group of fathers who play a vital role in the company's success.

   Their entire lives were devoted to steel, scrap metal, and machinery. They are participants in the circular economy, but above all—through the eyes of a child—they are the ones who uphold the very fabric of our world.

    Father's Day lasts only one day. Yet a father's love lives on—in the worn-out wrench tucked away in his toolbox, in the soft click of the door as he returns home late at night, in the endless customer requests he never finishes addressing on the phone, and in those stubborn stains that can't be washed away.

    Today, instead of dwelling on grand principles, I'll share stories about several fathers from the Hua Hong family. After reading them, you might find yourself thinking of your own father.

01Dad's Tool Box

    As a child, I loved flipping through my father's old toolbox—so worn out that its paint had peeled off.

    Wrenches, welding pliers, and unfamiliar parts—they captivate the eye more than any toy could.

    He worked at Huahong for over thirty years, proficient in both manufacturing and repairing equipment. He personally oversaw the transformation of massive machines—shearers and hydraulic baling presses, towering structures several meters high—from blueprints into steel behemoths. When these machines broke down or malfunctioned, he would respond immediately upon receiving a call late at night, simply putting on his clothes and heading to the site.

    His father had spent half his life there. Those densely packed pipelines and intricate structures were so complex that he could navigate them by feel even with his eyes closed.

    He speaks little when he returns home and can even come across as somewhat reserved. Yet whenever someone asks about a specific device or how to solve a particular problem, he becomes engrossed in the discussion for hours, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

    Only later did I realize that ray of light was love. Only then did I understand that his figures battling against steel during those years were the family's most steadfast pillar.

02   I didn't understand his entire body covered in rust before;

 only now do I realize that it represents the fundamental character of a family.

    To others, Huahong is a heavy-industry company dedicated to the circular economy. But for a particular child, it is the land his father has devoted half his life to cultivating.

    Thirty years. Exactly thirty years.

    Father poured all his burning passion into the roar of the workshop. From a young boy to one with graying temples, he dedicated his entire life to working tirelessly with steel.

    Initially, he worked as a cold laborer: in winter, his hands would freeze to the point of losing grip on tools; in summer, sweat would soak through his workwear until it became waterlogged. His hands were covered with calluses, rust marks, and scars of varying depths—old and new layers overlapping, rough as sandpaper. Yet the precision of the work he produced was flawless, never compromised.

    Subsequently, during the company's upgrade, he complied with arrangements and was transferred twice: first to the workshop as a material requisitioner, where he meticulously verified work order materials and coordinated production processes; secondly to oversee the hazardous waste storage facility, strictly adhering to environmental protection and safety standards while fulfilling his duties diligently.

    Thirty years have passed. The company has grown steadily, while he has aged gradually.

    I never understood his unwavering dedication to his post, marked by a body covered in rust; only now do I realize how he works diligently behind the scenes in his work uniform—shouldering the responsibilities of his family while embodying the duties and passion of an ordinary Huahong employee through simplicity and sincerity.

03 The suitcase contains both the order and the promise of tomorrow for our home.

    There are also fathers who have spent their youth on the road.

    For over two decades, he has traveled across most of China. From steel mills in the northwest to scrap yards in the south, he has accumulated a thick stack of train tickets. When equipment was sold, he went to install it; when machines malfunctioned, he rushed to repair them. At a customer's call, he would pack his bags and leave immediately, regardless of weather or holidays.

    The phone conversation always revolves around packaging machines, gantry cutters, and technical specifications. Late at night, it's often the hum of social gatherings over drinks, accompanied by hoarse voices.

    As a child, all I remember is that my father was always away from home—he wasn't there for my birthdays, parent-teacher meetings, or even during the New Year celebrations sometimes.

    I really hated him back then.

    Only after growing up and starting my own career did I gradually realize that the man who was often away from home wasn't actually missing his family. What weighed on his shoulders was the trust placed in him by a company, the expectations of its clients, and the daily needs of his entire family.

    Those footprints stained with windblown sand and rust—every step they take carries responsibility. Each step bears witness: I'm fighting for you.

    At Huahong, there are far too many fathers like this.

    Few people will remember their names. There are no flowers, no applause, and they are often complained about by family members.

    Yet it is precisely these oil-stained, quiet fathers who, with their rough hands, have sustained the operation of businesses and nurtured one ordinary yet warm family after another.

    They are ordinary. But they are great.

    Today is Father's Day.

    If you have a father like this, please make sure to tell him:

    "Dad, the way you strive is the most admirable thing I've ever seen in my life."

    Dad, thank you for all your hard work.

    Happy holidays to all fathers in the world!