Ch 46: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Yu Qingshan himself had no intention of returning to the Hongxing Brigade to oversee this matter. Initially, Yu Xiang’an didn’t take the technique too seriously either, as it wasn’t really a secret formula. However, one day, she realized this technique could be exchanged for job opportunities. From that point on, she began to value it more.

The paper they produced now was flatter and more even, though still not ideal for writing. However, as a flexible, absorbent straw paper, it was functional and ready for initial production.

Thus, Yu Qingshan planned to return. He intended to teach this technique to Yu Qingbao, who would then apply through Yu Shunwen for a brigade-level workshop. If successful and the commune recognized its economic benefits, they could establish a small factory.

No matter how small, a factory came with formal job positions. Yu Qingbao would certainly secure a spot, and as the original provider of the technique, Yu Qingshan believed it wasn’t unreasonable to ask for two or three positions for himself.

This way, his children and close relatives would have stable jobs, and offering the technique wouldn’t be a loss for him.

He also discussed this with Yu Xiang’an, acknowledging that the technique was initially hers and that his contributions were just refinements to minor details. In fairness, he suggested that if her second brother and fourth sister returned to work in the factory, they should share half of their first-year salaries with her.

Hearing this, Yu Xiang’an felt a little uneasy. The method she knew was something she had pieced together from scraps of knowledge shared by her dormmates. Now that Yu Qingshan was taking it so seriously… she felt like she had lucked into a fortune.

But Yu Qingshan insisted, saying, “You are their sibling, not their mother. I am their father, and it’s my duty to support them. You, as their younger sister, should be the one receiving care. For siblings to have lasting relationships, things need to be clearly divided when necessary.”

Yu Xiang’an admired his perspective. Even in the future, many parents would exploit their children’s resources or favor one child at the expense of others. His clarity on such matters was unexpected.

Upon his return, Yu Qingshan dismissed everyone else and convened a private meeting with Yu Changyou and Yu Qingbao. Naturally, Yu Qingbao had no objections to the plan—it was an incredible opportunity for him. If successful, he would gain a stable job out of thin air.

They didn’t know that in the future, many workers would face layoffs and job positions would no longer be hereditary. For now, they saw these jobs as a guaranteed “iron rice bowl.”

“I’ll also set aside a year’s salary and give half to Xiao An,” Yu Changyou, the eldest uncle, said. “I owe her for her contribution.”

Even he was getting a great deal from this arrangement.

After reaching an agreement, they carefully rehearsed how to approach Yu Shunwen about the proposal. Although they were cousins, their relationship wasn’t exceptionally close. Even though the plan would benefit him, presenting it in a way that sounded good and gave him face required finesse.

Yu Shunwen hadn’t been aware of the idea before. When he saw the sample paper Yu Qingshan brought, which was better than the straw paper sold at the commune’s supply and marketing cooperative, and heard that the primary materials were tree bark and bamboo, both readily available in the mountains, his eyes lit up.

As for the request to reserve job positions for his children and transfer them back from the countryside, Yu Shunwen readily agreed.

Even if job positions were limited initially, they could expand as production grew. Paper was cheap to produce, lightweight, and convenient to transport. With its decent quality, there would be no trouble selling it.

Although straw paper wasn’t something people paid much attention to, those with higher standards would use it. Rural people might get by with leaves, but city dwellers couldn’t do without it.

If they priced it the same as the supply and marketing cooperative’s paper, anyone with eyes could see theirs was the better deal. Business wouldn’t be an issue. And if the plan failed? They wouldn’t have lost much.

They had invested labor, as well as some tree bark and bamboo.

Beyond that, there was virtually nothing else they had to give up.

Compared to the enormous benefits success could bring, this small investment was insignificant.

First, they had Yu Manchang leading the villagers to fire bricks. Now, with this papermaking technique, Yu Shunwen believed the village’s good days were just around the corner.

The agreement was finalized. If this plan succeeded, Yu Qingbao would secure a position, and Yu Xiangyan and Yu Xiangqing would also receive job roles. All three of them would contribute half of their first year’s salaries to Yu Xiang’an as a fee for her craft.

Assuming a monthly salary of 22 yuan, each person would give 11 yuan per month, amounting to 132 yuan a year. For three people, that totaled 396 yuan. At this price, buying the rights to a technique outright was no loss for Yu Xiang’an.

After all, she had only used her words and done a bit of manual work at the beginning. Later, she occasionally assisted Yu Qingshan. Now, she could earn three to four hundred yuan effortlessly.

Although she had other side income, this nearly 400 yuan wasn’t a small amount. For an average worker, it equaled over a year’s worth of wages without spending a cent.

In fact, this sum was enough to buy a small house in the county if someone sold their land. For rural people, such a house could also secure an urban household registration.

Thinking about this, Yu Xiang’an felt the saying “knowledge is wealth” was absolutely true. She even regretted wasting opportunities in the past. If she had remembered more such recipes during the internet era, she wouldn’t have needed to do anything else to pave her path to prosperity.

Afterward, Yu Qingbao followed them back to the county. Yu Qingshan planned to teach him the technique step by step. Until Yu Qingbao fully mastered it, Yu Qingshan expected him to stay rooted in the county for a long time.

Yang Huili wasn’t the least bit reluctant to let him go. When he left, it was like a grand farewell with joy spreading for ten miles.

Given his health, he’d been doing light work for a while, unable to lift even a 10-centimeter load. Now that his children were growing up one by one, if he had the chance to learn this craft and become a worker, a temporary absence was nothing. He could even be gone for years.

At his age, separation didn’t matter much anymore.

Before leaving, Yu Xiang’an discreetly inquired whether anyone in Yu Manchang’s household had fallen ill recently, as there had been many sick people around. She wondered if they’d been affected.

Yu Manchang, not thinking much of it, replied, “No, everyone’s in good health.”

“Good to hear,” she said, relieved.

With that assurance, Yu Xiang’an privately sought out Xu Xiaoju. After assessing her complexion and seeing no sign of distress, she asked cautiously if Xu had been seen recently by her elder brother and sister-in-law at the hospital. She wondered if they might have mistaken her for someone else and offered to help if needed.

Xu Xiaoju was startled but soon calmed down when Yu Xiang’an explained, “My sister-in-law is pregnant with twins, so they’ve been going to the hospital for checkups regularly.”

Realizing this, Xu Xiaoju suddenly remembered Ye Qijia’s pregnancy and laughed awkwardly. “Oh, Xiao An, it’s nothing. I just hadn’t been able to pay them back and thought of visiting the doctor to get some medication. The doctor said I’m fine and don’t need anything—just that fate hasn’t arrived yet. It’s not something I feel comfortable talking about.”

Hearing this, Yu Xiang’an understood. It was indeed a sensitive topic, not easy to bring up with others.

“Don’t worry, sister-in-law. Plenty of people have children years after marriage. You and my brother haven’t even been married a year yet. He was working as a temp in the county and you were apart for much of it. You should cut that year in half, really.”

Xu Xiaoju shyly rubbed the hem of her clothes and lowered her voice. “Nobody else knows about this. Can you not tell anyone?” She felt that revealing this would make her seem overly anxious. While she was a bit concerned, it wasn’t extreme—she had just scared herself into thinking there might be something wrong with her body.

Yu Xiang’an readily agreed. “Sure, I’ll talk to my elder brother and the others about it when I get back. Don’t worry, we’ll keep it confidential.”

---

Lin Chuanbai visited his sister Lin Yunling’s house to see his nephew. Lin Yunling was a doctor at the municipal hospital. Her husband, originally a schoolteacher, had recently transferred to work as a librarian at the school library.

When Lin Chuanbai found out, he couldn’t help but applaud the man’s cleverness.

Teaching was no longer a good job. Many impulsive students were in this age group, and teachers often found themselves at odds with them. Many incidents involving teachers being targeted by disgruntled students had occurred. By transferring to the library, he might have sacrificed some career prospects, but he gained a quieter, safer environment.

Though universities had been abolished, high schools still existed. Working in a high school library and avoiding political entanglements increased his chances of safely weathering this turbulent period.

Lin Yunling’s in-laws were well-off and owned a standalone two-story house. They were locals, both retired teachers. Her husband, Fu Heqi, was the youngest in the family, with an older brother working as a researcher in another province—a stable government job. With just one son and one grandson, Lin Yunling often complained that her in-laws spoiled their grandson, Yuanyuan, too much. As a result, the boy had developed a stubborn and domineering personality.

Recently, Yuanyuan got into a fight with another child. While it wasn’t entirely his fault, both ended up injured. Lin Yunling planned to correct his behavior once his wounds healed. She couldn’t let him grow up this way.

Yuanyuan was five years old with a good memory. When he saw Lin Chuanbai, he stared blankly for a moment before recognizing him. But that was all—he didn’t like this uncle, who neither pampered him nor smiled much at him.

Lin Chuanbai didn’t take it personally. Though he liked children, they rarely liked him back—probably because his smiles lacked warmth. He was used to this reaction.

After inspecting Yuanyuan’s injury, he confirmed it wasn’t serious and would heal with time. However, keeping the naturally energetic child from aggravating his wound was a daily struggle. Much effort went into preventing him from playing outside with his friends.

Lin Chuanbai didn’t think it was a big deal, but Fu Heqi disagreed.

Putting on a stern face, he said, “Yuanyuan, your uncle brought you something tasty. What do you say?”

Like his wife, Fu Heqi believed they had been too lenient with Yuanyuan lately. The child’s spoiled behavior had become evident—even when his uncle came, he didn’t greet him properly. Seeing Fu Heqi’s stern expression, Yuanyuan hesitated. He could act spoiled with his grandparents, but not with his parents, who wouldn’t hesitate to discipline him. Reluctantly, he muttered, “…Thank you, Uncle.”

“You’re welcome, Yuanyuan. Go play now.”

Hearing this, Yuanyuan ran off to another room to play.

“Is my sister busy?” Lin Chuanbai asked.

“Yes, she’s tied up with several patients and can’t leave. But she’ll be back by noon. I bought half a roast duck earlier—apparently made by a chef from Beijing, using authentic Beijing techniques. I’ve never been to Beijing, so I can’t verify that, but it tastes amazing and sells out quickly. I got lucky by going early.”

In the other room, Yuanyuan overheard and immediately shouted, “I want some roast duck too!”

Fu Heqi called him over. “Then come here.” He wanted to ensure the boy didn’t distance himself from his uncle.

Before noon, a visitor arrived. Feng Jiaye showed up at the door with several people. “Is Lin Chuanbai here?” he asked.

He knew where Lin Chuanbai’s sister’s house was.

Fu Heqi opened the door to find Feng Jiaye with two others—a man and a woman, both of whom were Lin Chuanbai’s high school classmates.

Guests were guests, so Fu Heqi invited them in and served tea.

Feng Jiaye placed a box of braised pork and some candy he had brought on the table. “I knew you’d be here.”

Lin Chuanbai: “…”

Persistent as a ghost.

Tan Yan looked at him with a mix of surprise and joy. “Long time no see. You’ve been so heartless, never coming back to visit us, your old friends.” It had been a while, and he had clearly grown taller.

Wu Qizhou glanced at Lin Chuanbai’s attire, which seemed decent, and gave a stiff smile and nod.

After exchanging a few polite greetings and asking about Yuanyuan’s injury, Tan Yan carefully broached the subject. “Are you still upset? When will you come back? You misunderstood your parents back then. They weren’t refusing to help you. Look at the person who took your spot—they’ve dropped out and come back now. Your parents must have sensed something and chose not to intervene. Don’t blame them. What parent doesn’t love their own child?”

“Why not apologize to them, admit your mistake, and let them help you find a job here? It would be so easy for them to arrange something for you in the city. Don’t you want to stay here? If you like medicine, wouldn’t the municipal hospital be much better than the county hospital? Plus, your sister is here, so she can take care of you too.”

Hearing this, Feng Jiaye interjected, clearly displeased. “There’s no need for you to bow to your parents. If you want, my grain station can hire you anytime. Work as a temp for a while, and you can secure a permanent position. We’re classmates; of course, I’ll look out for you.”

Wu Qizhou found this suggestion reasonable. “See? Jiaye has already said so. Coming back is just a matter of saying the word.”

Tan Yan, seeing no reaction from Lin Chuanbai, pressed further. “Do you plan to stay in that county forever? How will you ever make progress there? And living there long-term, are you planning to find a partner there too? Shouldn’t we look for a comrade with shared ideals and common goals? Would someone raised in that county even understand your perspective?”

Lin Chuanbai knew exactly what they were after: his parents. They believed his parents would never truly abandon him.

They listed countless drawbacks of staying in the county, implying that it was backward and lacking in basic necessities, urging him to move to the city.

Fu Heqi, listening on the side, initially thought this was just a reunion. But then…

Huh?

What was all this talk about his brother-in-law apologizing to their parents? Apologizing for what?

And while it was true that the city was more developed, the county wasn’t completely desolate. At least it wasn’t as chaotic as here.

Lin Chuanbai understood why Tan Yan spoke this way. The original Lin Chuanbai had indeed harbored resentment toward his parents upon learning someone else had taken his spot at the worker-peasant-soldier university. He felt betrayed, thinking they hadn’t helped him and cared only about their new family. If they had intervened, his spot wouldn’t have been taken.

Although such thoughts were unfair to those who were innocent, the original couldn’t help feeling this way.

He had wanted to escape this familiar environment and start anew where no one knew him. But his hopes were crushed, and he was left stuck in this swamp. The original had lost the will to live, and after falling ill, he had simply let go.

Lin Chuanbai felt that his old classmates bore some responsibility for his pain. If it hadn’t been for their so-called sympathetic but actually mocking words in his ear, he wouldn’t have felt so hurt.

As for moving from the county to the city—yes, he admitted that certain things could only be purchased here. But just the hassle of dealing with these meddling former classmates made him unwilling to come back. As for apologizing? He had done nothing wrong. Why should he apologize?

The original Lin Chuanbai had merely voiced some complaints. How these people concluded he was in the wrong was beyond him.

Feng Jiaye proved even more persistent than Lin Chuanbai expected. Seeing him remain silent, he turned to Fu Heqi for reinforcement. “Brother-in-law, why don’t you try to persuade him? People should aim high, just like water flows downhill.”

Lin Chuanbai responded, “If I want to return to the city, I’ll figure it out myself. No need for you to worry. Even my grandfather hasn’t rushed me—why are you all so anxious?”

His words caused an awkward silence. Feng Jiaye forced a laugh. “Maybe your grandfather just hasn’t considered this issue yet. We’re only concerned for you.”

Tan Yan chimed in, “Exactly! Your grandfather’s retired now—he probably enjoys a quieter life. But you’re still young! Don’t your parents and grandfather want you to succeed? Just apologize and soften up a bit; they’ll forgive you. Then you won’t have to worry about your future.”

Lin Chuanbai countered, “Did I do something wrong? Do I need their forgiveness? None of my family has ever brought this up. You’re just my classmates—don’t you think you’re overstepping?”

Tan Yan was momentarily at a loss for words, her face flushing with embarrassment and anger. “How can you say that? We’re supposed to be good friends.”

Lin Chuanbai’s voice turned cold. “Oh? When I was sick, you say we were friends—yet none of you came to visit me?”

Tan Yan opened her mouth but couldn’t form a response. At the time, she’d been preoccupied with securing her job and attempting to attach herself to someone influential. She had no interest in sparing a thought for Lin Chuanbai, the quiet and unremarkable classmate. Besides, she hadn’t realized his father was a factory director back then. At the time, she had been full of ambition, thinking she had better prospects elsewhere.

Now… she was beginning to grasp reality. Without someone to help her, she might be stuck in that cramped office for the rest of her life.

Feng Jiaye also didn’t know what to say. He had never cared about Lin Chuanbai’s situation in the first place.

As for Wu Qizhou, he had even less reason to intervene. Although they had been desk mates, their relationship had never been close. If not for Tan Yan, he wouldn’t have had any interaction with Lin Chuanbai at all. He was only here because he had a thing for her.

Lin Chuanbai’s expression grew sterner. “From that time on, I understood we were never really friends. There’s no need for you to show up now and pretend to care. I don’t care about your motives or reasons. Don’t come looking for me again. Take the things you brought and leave.”

Fu Heqi stood silently to the side, pretending to be invisible.

Although the visitors had tried to conceal their true intentions, they were too young and inexperienced. Feng was looking for a sense of superiority. Tan Yan was eyeing the connections Lin Chuanbai’s parents could provide. Wu Qizhou was only there because of his feelings for Tan Yan. Their motives were far from pure.

If such people were considered friends, the word “friendship” might as well lose its meaning.

However, Fu Heqi couldn’t help but worry about his brother-in-law’s social circle. Did Lin Chuanbai truly not have a single genuine friend? He decided he needed to discuss this with Lin Yunling.

The three left in awkward silence, grumbling to themselves afterward about not having thought of a better excuse at the time. When Lin Yunling returned and heard what had happened, she praised Lin Chuanbai for handling it well.

“People with ulterior motives should be kept as far away as possible. One careless move, and they’ll take advantage of you. If you want to make friends, there are plenty of kind-hearted people out there waiting to meet you.”

Lin Chuanbai: “They’re not my friends.”

“Fine, they’re not your friends. But you should have at least one or two people you can really talk to, right?” Lin Yunling said, worried. She already had her hands full with Yuan Yuan, and now her younger brother was adding to her concerns.

When did she start worrying about him?

Since their parents divorced.

She sighed, her tone softening. “I’m not trying to pressure you, but I do hope you’ll open up to someone. When you’re sad or upset, aside from family, there should be someone you can share your burdens with.”

Lin Chuanbai fell silent.

In the past… he never really had close friends.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t communicate; he just never opened up. Some people had tried to befriend him, but over time, they grew tired of his indifference and gave up.

He didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. He found it comfortable.

He didn’t want to spend too much time on social interactions.

Someone to share sadness and burdens with… a friend?

If fate allowed, he’d give it a try.

---

Yu Xiang’an sat on a rock, tilting her head back to admire the sunset. The clouds were stunning tonight, the kind that might trend online if photographed.

But there were no phones, and no Weibo.

Gradually, she heard footsteps. She turned and saw Lin Chuanbai approaching.

He’d come to pick up some food. Yesterday, he’d given her a pound of pork belly.

Seeing him, Yu Xiang’an stood up and opened the food container. “Do you have anything going on today? If not, how about joining me for dinner? I made milk tea and cake. Tomorrow… is my birthday.” Her last sentence was soft, almost lost in the breeze if one didn’t listen carefully.

Lin Chuanbai’s expression shifted slightly. Her birthday—it must be her birthday from her previous life.

He sat down on the grass beside her.

Yu Xiang’an began taking out dishes: preserved vegetables with pork, braised fish, a wild vegetable salad, and two bowls of rice.

“In the past, on my birthday, I’d always go out to eat with my family. After dinner, we’d go sing karaoke. My dad was tone-deaf but loved to sing, never letting go of the microphone. Only my mom could stop him.”

“My mom had a beautiful voice. She said people even asked her if she wanted to become a singer. She could dance, too.”

“My dad couldn’t sing or dance, but he loved calligraphy and chess. Those were hobbies he’d stuck with for over twenty years. I’m not like him. I’m not like my mom either. I don’t like those things. I just enjoy cooking and eating good food. Oh, and money—I like money.”

“I used to give them so many headaches. They must be relieved now, no more headaches. Haha, just kidding. It’s been so long—they shouldn’t feel that sad anymore.”

Yu Xiang’an rambled on about her family, her words filled with fragments of warmth and longing. Lin Chuanbai listened quietly, attentively.

Suddenly, Lin Yunling’s words came back to him: Someone to share sadness and burdens with… a friend.

A friend.

He looked at Yu Xiang’an’s smiling face, her eyes filled with sorrow.

Maybe… they already were.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃