Ch 54: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

The train clattered forward steadily. In this carriage, there were six sleeping berths, and five of them were occupied by their family.

Traveling such a long distance without a sleeper ticket would have been exhausting, so with Lin Houpin’s rank and the urgency of the situation, tickets had been arranged for them without trouble.

They were prepared for the worst—possibly seeing him for the last time or even arriving too late for a final goodbye, instead attending his funeral. Since they had young children, who couldn’t be left behind or endure such a journey easily, the family packed extensively, filling two large bags with necessities.

Yuanyuan came along as well. Lin Yunling didn’t want her child to grow up without any memory of his grandfather.

Once they boarded and found their berths, everyone silently settled in. Only the children, blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation, slept soundly. After their initial excitement wore off, the twins dozed off in their parents’ arms, snoring softly, clearly in deep sleep.

The bottom berth was, of course, reserved for Lin Duzhong, as climbing up and down was difficult for him at his age. Lin Chuanbai took the middle berth above, and Yu Xiang’an was on the top.

Across from them, the lowest berth was occupied by a middle-aged man in a Zhongshan suit, carrying a briefcase, likely traveling for business. Above him was Fu Heqi, with Lin Yunling in the top berth.

The middle-aged man had boarded before them, and when their family arrived, he was momentarily taken aback. A group taking up five sleeper tickets at once was unusual.

Were they relatives of some high-ranking official? Otherwise, how could they have secured so many tickets in a time when sleeper tickets were nearly impossible to get without significant connections?

Curious, he tried to strike up a conversation, perhaps sensing an opportunity to expand his network. But the family didn’t say much, quietly arranging their luggage and sitting in silence.

The man eventually turned to Lin Duzhong, who was leaning on the lower berth and staring into space. “Comrade, where are you headed? I’m going to Tongcheng.”

Lin Duzhong blinked, coming out of his thoughts. Although some time had passed since they’d received the news and boarded the train, his heart was still restless. Hearing someone address him, he forced himself to focus. “We’re heading to Qincheng.”

“Qincheng, huh? What a coincidence. I’ll be getting off two stops before you, half a day earlier.”

The journey to Qincheng required a transfer and, barring any delays, would take five days. For the middle-aged man, it was a four-day journey.

Delays were common with long-distance trains—half an hour here, an hour there, sometimes arriving half a day late wasn’t unusual.

Lin Duzhong managed a faint smile. “Looks like we’ll be companions for a few days.”

It was a small comfort. The man seemed respectable, which made sharing the space less burdensome.

“Are you visiting family? You don’t look like you’re traveling for work.” With the mix of young and old, it didn’t seem like a business trip.

Lin Duzhong gave a bitter smile. “We’re going for medical treatment, hoping we’ll get there in time.”

The man’s expression shifted, the implication sinking in. If they were hoping for treatment, things must already be dire. He sighed. “Don’t lose heart, sir. Heaven protects good people—he’ll be alright.”

“Let’s hope so. I don’t want to reach this age only to bury my own child.” His voice carried the weight of sorrow, and the man couldn’t help but feel moved.

The elderly fear nothing more than outliving their children. Even though Lin Duzhong hadn’t seen his son often over the years, they corresponded regularly. Knowing his son was living well gave him peace of mind. But now, that peace had been shattered.

The middle-aged man was silent for a moment, then said softly, “So it’s your son.”

Something in Lin Duzhong’s words seemed to stir a memory in the man. Perhaps it was the phrase “bury my own child” that hit a nerve. He turned to look out the window, his gaze distant as he watched the scenery pass by. “I had a son who joined the military. He idolized soldiers from a young age and was thrilled when he was selected. We were so proud of him. He excelled there and earned many honors. But… one day, he didn’t make it.”

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a medal, carefully wiping it with his sleeve.

“He left us just like that, leaving his mother and me to bury our own child.”

Other than the sleeping children, everyone else turned to look at him.

Lin Duzhong blinked, wiping away the moisture in his eyes. His gaze toward the man softened considerably. They were kindred spirits, fellow travelers on the same path of sorrow.

Though they were strangers from different places, at this moment, they understood each other perfectly. They were both fathers.

Lin Chuanbai’s hold on Lin Yihong tightened slightly.

This little boy—who could be so sweet and obedient that he’d willingly hand over his heart, yet at times mischievous enough to make you want to string him up and scold him—was his son. His role as a father came with its own weight. Imagining himself in the man’s position, enduring the pain of losing a child, was unbearable. Just the thought made his heart ache.

While he believed in allowing his children freedom to choose their own paths, he silently hoped his son wouldn’t choose the military.

Though future armies would likely face less direct combat, with more advanced technology reducing the need for close-quarters battles, the risks of military life would never disappear. Even in relatively peaceful times, being a soldier meant inherent danger.

He couldn’t help but hope his son wouldn’t take on such a perilous role.

As for the current situation with Lin Houpin, Lin Chuanbai felt little emotional connection. The original owner of his body had been distant from his parents, and as an outsider now occupying this life, he felt even less attachment. His feelings toward Lin Duzhong, whom he had grown close to, were far stronger in comparison.

Lin Yunling’s emotions, however, were far more complicated.

The three siblings had rarely spent time with their parents. When they were young, they were left in the military daycare run by army wives, with their parents largely absent from their lives. As they grew older, they were sent to live with their grandfather.

When was the last time they’d seen their parents? At the time of their divorce, which had been six or seven years ago.

In all that time, her son had never met his grandparents in person. They had always been too busy to be involved, and they were the kind of “busy” that left no room for complaints.

As she listened to her grandfather chatting with the stranger below, Lin Yunling’s gaze drifted to the berth across from her.

There, her sister-in-law leaned against the wall with her niece nestled in her arms. One hand gently covered the child’s ear, likely to keep their voices from disturbing her sleep.

Her head was lowered, her eyes out of view, but her movements were tender and careful.

It wasn’t just her son that her parents had never met—her sister-in-law’s two children were strangers to them as well.

Only photos had been sent, the same as with her eldest brother’s children. They were all scattered, growing up apart from their grandparents. If nothing unexpected happened, the only child raised under their father’s care would be the youngest son, born to his second wife.

Thinking of that stepmother, a hint of sarcasm tugged at Lin Yunling’s lips.

If her father didn’t survive this, would that woman feel like she had lost out? She had been in her twenties when she married him, and now, even years later, she was still not yet thirty.

Had her father and mother fallen out of love before this woman entered the picture, or had their relationship dissolved because of her? Lin Yunling couldn’t help but wonder.

Other than the three people involved, no one knew the truth.

She used to think the latter possibility was more likely—that her father’s new relationship had led to the divorce.

But her mother remarried so quickly afterward that it felt like a competition.

Each of them went on to marry, each had children with new spouses.

She thought that chapter of their lives was over. She never expected to receive such a phone call. Hadn’t he already transitioned out of the military?

He was a factory director now, a position much safer than his time in the military. How could an accident still happen?

The information provided over the phone had been vague. Could there be something more to it?

What kind of accident could he have encountered? Whose mistake was it? Surely it wasn’t his. If it were, the other party wouldn’t have gone out of their way to arrange tickets for them.

Feeling Lin Yunling’s gaze, Yu Xiang’an looked up and asked, “Sister, what’s wrong?”

She had been staring.

Lin Yunling snapped out of her thoughts and shook her head, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “Just lost in thought.”

There was no point dwelling on it now. They would find out once they arrived. No matter what, she hoped he would be okay. He had saved so many people and helped so many others; his life shouldn’t end because of one accident.

As a father, he had been neglectful, but for his country, he had given everything he could.

Yu Xiang’an saw that Lin Yining was sound asleep. She carefully laid her down on the narrow berth, making sure her movements were gentle.

The twins, in some ways, were easy to manage. They didn’t mind unfamiliar beds.

The train rumbled noisily, and after more than two hours, it slowed to a stop at the next station. Some passengers disembarked, while more boarded, filling the car with chatter. A few people wandered into the sleeper section, but the conductor quickly escorted them back to the regular seating area, as they didn’t have sleeper tickets.

After her nap, Lin Yining woke up, rubbing her eyes with her chubby little hands and yawning. “Mommy, I’m thirsty.”

Yu Xiang’an took the thermos from the bedside and poured some water into the lid for her to drink. Lin Yining sipped slowly, taking small gulps, still not fully awake. Once she finished, she looked around, now alert.

She grabbed onto the railing and looked down. “Mommy, we’re so high up. Will we fall? Falling would hurt!”

Lin Chuanbai peeked out from below. “That’s why, little sister, you need to avoid doing anything dangerous. Stay close to Mommy, okay?”

Lin Yining nodded obediently. “Okay, Daddy, I’ll be good. Mommy, where are we now? Are we still on the train?”

“Yes, we’re still on the train. We have a long way to go.”

As they spoke, the train began moving again. Lin Yining watched the shifting scenery outside the window, her attention fully captured.

“We’re inside the train, and it’s moving!”

“That’s right. We’re moving forward, but things outside aren’t actually moving—they just look like they’re moving backward.”

After a while, she lost interest in the view. “Where’s Brother?”

“Brother’s with Daddy. He’s still sleeping. Do you want to go back to sleep?”

“No.”

“Then do you want to look at a picture book? Let’s be quiet while Brother sleeps, okay?”

“Okay.”

Yu Xiang’an took out a picture book filled with colorful illustrations of animals like rabbits, birds, and ducks.

Lin Yining flipped through it obediently, occasionally asking, “Mommy, is this yellow? Is this green? And this is red, right?”

…

Meanwhile, Lin Yihong continued sleeping, far longer than his sister.

By lunchtime, Lin Yihong woke up. The train had been running for several hours, stopping briefly at a station before continuing. Around this time, passengers started heading out with lunchboxes and cups to get hot water or buy meals.

Yu Xiang’an had prepared food in advance, so they didn’t need to buy meals that day. However, they were out of hot water, and she needed someone to refill the thermos.

Yu Xiang’an climbed down with Lin Yining from her upper berth and placed her with Lin Duzhong at the bottom. Lin Chuanbai took the empty thermos and went to fetch hot water with Fu Heqi.

“Grandpa, please keep an eye on her. Yining, be good and stay here while Mommy gets our lunch ready,” Yu Xiang’an said gently.

She then pulled out their packed meal—a pot of cured meat rice, boiled greens, dried vegetables, and boiled eggs. As soon as the food was unpacked, a delicious aroma wafted through the air.

Yuanyuan, curious, peeked over. “Auntie, what did you bring to eat?”

Lin Yunling noticed and climbed down first, helping Yuanyuan down from her berth. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” she asked.

Lin Yunling had also brought food: some boiled eggs, steamed buns, and pancakes.

Nearby, Lan Wangshan, who hadn’t planned to eat so early, smelled the food and felt his stomach growl. He had boarded earlier and already finished the food he’d brought, so he decided to buy lunch from the train. Standing with his lunchbox, he asked the family to watch his belongings while he was gone. Lin Duchong nodded in agreement.

Lin Yihong, awakened by the aroma, called out softly, “Mommy?”

“I’m here. Don’t move around; Daddy went to get hot water. Just wait a little while,” she reassured him.

From his spot below, Lin Duzhong stood to check on him. Seeing the little boy peeking out from his middle berth, he asked warmly, “Yihong, you’re awake. Are you hungry?”

Having been up early, the twins were understandably hungry.

“Yeah, I want to eat,” Yihong replied groggily, still shaking off sleep.

Soon, Lin Chuanbai and Fu Heqi returned with hot water, their clothes slightly disheveled from navigating the crowded train.

Yu Xiang’an took the thermos and used the hot water to reheat the rice. While cold rice might be fine for adults in the heat, it was too hard for the children.

She set out two small bowls and began feeding Lin Yining with a spoon. Meanwhile, Lin Chuanbai handed a bowl to Lin Duzhong and started feeding Lin Yihong.

After slowly finishing his small bowl, Lin Yihong shook his head. “I don’t want more.”

“Are you full?”

“No, I want an egg,” he said, eyeing the boiled eggs.

Lin Chuanbai peeled an egg and handed it to him, letting him hold and eat it on his own.

While the parents fed their twins, Lin Yunling supervised Yuanyuan, who was old enough to eat by himself and didn’t need help. However, Yuanyuan expressed interest in the cured meat rice rather than the steamed buns. Yu Xiang’an served him a small portion, while Lin Yining, intrigued by the buns, took two from Lin Yunling. The family shared and exchanged food.

Everything they brought was high-quality food, chosen with the long journey in mind. Good nutrition was essential to prevent illness, which could complicate travel.

When Lan Wangshan returned and saw their meal, he was momentarily stunned.

Everything they had was premium food! He glanced at his own lunch of noodles with two pieces of meat and sighed inwardly. His situation wasn’t bad, but compared to theirs…

After the meal, the dishes needed washing. Lin Chuanbai collected all the bowls and said, “I’ll wash these myself. There are too many people; it’ll be crowded if everyone goes. I’ll refill the thermos on the way back.”

Lan Wangshan hesitated as Lin Chuanbai picked up his bowl as well. “…”

He felt a bit embarrassed but quickly realized how helpful it was to have company during travel. They began to bond more naturally after this.

While the sleeper berths were cramped and uncomfortable, they were far better than standing or sitting tickets. Having a place to sleep, no matter how small, was a blessing.

Given the conditions, this was the reality of long-distance train travel. In a later era, such a journey would take only a short nap on a plane. But now, they faced half a month of living, eating, and sleeping in this train carriage.

After finishing their packed meals, they had to rely on purchasing train meals, which weren’t particularly tasty but were decent enough.

One advantage of train meals was the availability of meat dishes without requiring ration tickets.

Despite being away from home, they didn’t skimp on themselves. Everyone earned a salary, and there was no need to endure unnecessary hardship. If something good was available, they would buy it.

The first couple of days on the train were manageable, but by the third day, the monotony set in. Being confined to such a small space left everyone restless and irritable.

To pass the time, Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai had brought children’s books, flashcards, and blank paper with pens. They entertained the children by telling stories, making up new ones on the spot, or engaging them in simple educational activities. If the children were napping, the couple used the time to jot down ideas and make plans on paper—plans only they could understand.

Their situation wasn’t conducive to doing much else. While the idea of engaging in trade or other activities during their travels was tempting, they couldn’t risk exposing their secret. For three years, they had carefully hidden the existence of their farm and medicinal garden, managing them discreetly during work breaks at the factory or hospital.

Yu Xiang’an’s warehouse seemed to have no capacity limit. She would discreetly sell off batches during city trips, leaving her with a hefty savings of several thousand yuan—a significant amount at the time.

However, this was not the time for business ventures. With Lin Houping’s life hanging in the balance, it would be inappropriate to focus on making money.

Instead, they chatted with Lan Wangshan about Tongcheng, asking questions about the area. Tongcheng wasn’t as large as Qincheng but was home to a major steel plant, which was why Lan Wangshan was traveling there.

Having visited the area before, he shared his knowledge about the region. His stories offered a much-needed diversion, and his lively conversations with Lin Duzhong kept the elder from dwelling on his worries, preventing him from becoming overwhelmed.

Their only opportunities to stretch their legs were brief trips to the restroom, food carriage, or, during longer stops at certain stations, stepping outside for fresh air. Without access to showers, they resorted to wiping themselves down with damp towels. While the limited number of people in their section kept odors manageable, the lack of bathing left everyone feeling uncomfortable.

Lan Wangshan proved to be a great companion, sharing stories about local customs and bonding with Lin Duzhong. By the end of the journey, they exchanged addresses, promising to stay in touch.

After several exhausting days, the train finally arrived, delayed by only two hours—a relatively smooth journey.

Thankfully, no one had experienced waterborne illnesses or other discomforts along the way. Yu Xiang’an had added a small amount of spring water to everyone’s drinking water as an extra precaution, ensuring their health during the trip.

Upon arrival, they immediately sought out the best hospital in the area.

Disheveled and weary from travel, their faces showed their exhaustion, and their clothes carried the smell of days spent in cramped quarters. Yet no one suggested stopping at a guesthouse to freshen up—they couldn’t risk missing the chance to see Lin Houpin, even if it meant witnessing his final moments.

At the hospital, they reported Lin Houpin’s name to the front desk. After verifying their introduction letter and identification, the receptionist provided an update.

“You’ve finally arrived. Director Lin is in the ICU on the third floor. He’s not completely out of danger yet, but he’s already undergone three resuscitations and has shown remarkable willpower to survive. While he’s still in critical condition, if his current progress continues, he may soon be moved out of the ICU. Director Lin truly is an extraordinary individual.”

The nurse’s tone carried admiration and respect when speaking of Director Lin, and her kindness extended to his family as well.

Upon hearing the news, Lin Duzhong was energized, his previous exhaustion vanishing. He walked so briskly that even the younger ones struggled to keep up.

“He’s improving? That’s wonderful news. Who’s taking care of him now?”

“We have two dedicated nurses looking after him. Follow me. And your belongings—” she pointed to a storage room, “—you can leave them here. It’ll be inconvenient to carry everything while going up and down.”

“That’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. This way, please.”

Guided by the nurse, they reached the third floor, where two uniformed guards stood at the door. As the group approached, the guards stopped them, requesting their introduction letters and work IDs. After thoroughly verifying their credentials, the guards called for Li Yujiao inside.

Li Yujiao emerged, smiling as she confirmed, “Dad, you’ve arrived.”

Hearing this, the guards stepped aside, allowing them entry.

The nurse whispered, “Please keep quiet once you’re inside and don’t get too close. He needs rest.”

Entering the room, they saw Lin Houpin lying in bed, surrounded by medical equipment—state-of-the-art and extremely costly for the era. His complexion was pale, an oxygen tube was attached to his nose, and thick bandages covered his abdomen and left arm. Two nurses stood vigil on either side of the bed.

“What happened to him? They said it was an accident, but what exactly happened? How did he end up like this?” Lin Duzhong’s voice trembled as he asked Li Yujiao, barely able to contain his emotions.

Li Yujiao’s eyes reddened as she explained, “Dad, he was in a meeting with some leaders when an assassination attempt occurred. Lin, being ex-military and the most skilled, shielded the leaders but was shot twice—once in the abdomen and once in the left arm. The arm wound was treated, but the abdominal injury affected his internal organs. The doctors issued critical condition notices multiple times, but he pulled through. Even now, he’s not entirely out of danger.”

Her exhaustion was evident. She had been by his side since the incident, not leaving for days. Her pale complexion, red-rimmed eyes, dry lips, and dark circles only added to her delicate and melancholic appearance. Despite her weariness, her beauty remained striking.

Yu Xiang’an, who had seen her photo before, was slightly taken aback upon seeing her in person. She now understood why Lin Houpin’s children might have reservations about their stepmother. With her youthful appearance and striking looks, suspicions and unease were inevitable.

She also carefully observed her father-in-law, who bore a resemblance to Lin Duzhong with his strong, trustworthy square face. But now, his eyes were tightly shut, his expression frail, and his breath so weak it seemed he might stop at any moment.

A nurse attending in the room spoke up, “He spends most of the day asleep. He woke briefly this morning, but it’ll be some time before he wakes again. Once you’ve seen him, please step out. Too many people in the room can disrupt his rest.”

“Of course, we’ll leave shortly,” Lin Duzhong replied, leading everyone out.

One of the guards outside stepped forward. “We’ve arranged accommodations for you. Let me take you there. You must be exhausted—you can wash up and rest before returning to the hospital.”

Lin Duzhong nodded, then turned to Li Yujiao. “Eldest daughter-in-law, you stay here and keep watch. I’ll go rest and come back later.”

He resolved to ask about the details of the incident later. With so many people around, it wasn’t the right time or place to delve into the matter.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃