Ch 61: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Yu Xiang’an declined, “He’s not an easy person to deal with. Being too frequent might make him suspicious. Cattle are not like pigs; fewer people raise them. Let’s avoid selling fresh meat for now.”

Lin Chuanbai understood her reasoning but was mainly trying to distract her.

He smoothly changed the topic: “Then how about we make something delicious for ourselves? I feel like having beef and radish stew.”

Hearing her refusal, he quickly shifted to the next idea.

Yu Xiang’an understood his intention. For now, she decided to set the matter aside and wait for her older brother’s response.

When Yu Xianghai received her letter, he wasn’t surprised.

For something this significant, it was natural she would have questions. He, too, had been shocked and asked plenty of questions when he first found out.

Zhao Qiaoniang had taken things from the family to give to the Zhou household. Their father demanded compensation, but how could they truly compensate for it? It wasn’t clear how much had been taken. His father’s demand was more about making his stance clear—he wouldn’t let this go easily.

Yu Xianghai was also furious when he found out.

Why should they tolerate this? They had treated Zhao Qiaoniang and her daughter well. He still vividly remembered, as a 16- or 17-year-old, how thin and frail they looked when they first arrived. They had brought only two sets of old clothes and nothing else.

For them to act so ungrateful now was unconscionable.

Because of Yu Qingshan’s firm stance, Zhao Qiaoniang couldn’t repay what was owed. Zhou’s family could afford to, but they refused. They figured there was no evidence since the items had already been consumed, and the money had no distinctive marks.

But Yu Qingshan had marked the recent money with pencil markings to prove it belonged to his household.

How else would their money end up with the Zhou family?

There was no other explanation besides theft.

And theft was a serious accusation.

Technically, Zhao Qiaoniang had been stealing Yu Qingshan’s money to give to the Zhou family. If reported to the public security bureau, the case would hold up, and the Zhou family was terrified.

In their panic, Zhao Qiaoniang tried to humble herself, even desperately attempting to get the youngest brother to intervene on her behalf.

But their father had anticipated this and took precautions to ensure they couldn’t drag him into it.

How could they put a young boy in such a painful situation?

Zhao Qiaoniang regretted her actions. She regretted saying so much to justify herself, explaining all her supposed reasons and hardships.

What she should have done was admit her wrongdoing immediately, promise never to repeat it, and ensure there was no second time.

Yu Xianghai: “…”

He found it hard to believe her.

Where there’s a first time, there’s a second, and where there’s a second, there’s a third.

Yu Xianghai had his own children and understood that Zhao Qiaoniang favoring her only daughter, Ding Minxiu, was natural. If he were in her position, he wasn’t sure he could stick to his principles either.

But looking at the future, seeing their family prosper while Ding Minxiu struggled, another incident like this was bound to happen. Perhaps this outcome was already destined from the moment the two families fell out.

When he first learned about this, he couldn’t quite grasp what his father’s intentions were. Would he let the matter slide or resolve it once and for all?

The only way to sever ties with the Zhou family was to cut off all connections with Zhao Qiaoniang. That way, there would be no more situations where the Yu family’s belongings ended up in the Zhou household.

His father, as always, proved to be a decisive man. He had likely seen that this would never end and proposed separating.

Zhao Qiaoniang resisted and caused a scene, but Yu Qingshan remained firm. If she didn’t agree to separate, he wouldn’t give her any money or supplies, and the Zhou family would still need to compensate for the losses.

After a period of deadlock, Ding Minxiu intervened, and somehow, Zhao Qiaoniang agreed.

Later, Yu Xianghai learned that the Zhou family had arranged a temporary job for Zhao Qiaoniang at a meat processing plant as a cleaner, where she could earn 18 yuan a month. She also rented a place near the Zhou household to take care of her grandson. Seeing this development, Yu Xianghai figured it was Ding Minxiu who had convinced her mother.

It was easy to deduce why. If she promised her son would care for his grandmother in the future, Zhao Qiaoniang’s resources would essentially end up benefiting Ding Minxiu and her son.

Zhao Qiaoniang, now middle-aged but still capable of working for several years, likely believed it made more sense to devote her resources to her biological daughter rather than Yu Xiangju, who had no blood relation to her.

Yu Qingshan, seeing that Zhao Qiaoniang had chosen Ding Minxiu over his youngest son, decided to let her take what she had brought into the Yu household. After sorting through her belongings, she left with two large boxes.

From the items packed, it was evident that she had not been mistreated while living with the Yu family.

Yu Xianghai felt they had done their part. Had things remained harmonious, Ding Minxiu would have been treated no differently than his other sisters, with support for her education, dowry, and Zhao Qiaoniang’s care secured through their family.

His father, originally planning to leave his care to the youngest son, entrusted this responsibility to the child Zhao Qiaoniang had raised. Wouldn’t he naturally care for her out of gratitude?

Now that things had fallen apart, Yu Xianghai wondered if Zhao Qiaoniang would regret her choices when she cooled down.

He worried about his father, fearing he might fall into depression. But Yu Qingshan was surprisingly composed.

“I eat three meals a day at the factory now; it’s not much trouble at all,” he said.

Yu Qingshan had thought about the future. When confronted about her actions, Zhao Qiaoniang’s first response wasn’t to admit fault but to justify herself, claiming her grandson was pitiful.

Pitiful? Yu Qingshan could hardly recognize the word anymore.

The Zhou family’s only grandson, who lived a better life than most children, was hardly pitiful. What she referred to as “pitiful” was simply his inability to enjoy the rare treats that appeared in the Yu household.

Recognizing her bias, Yu Qingshan decisively chose to separate. He feared that if they stayed together, she might corrupt Yu Xiangju.

Now that they were apart, with Yu Xiangju sent to study at the commune school, Yu Qingshan believed he could manage just fine on his own.

When Yu Xiang’an received Yu Xianghai’s letter detailing the situation, she understood the reasoning behind the decision.

The matter was now a foregone conclusion, and nothing she said could change it. Accepting this, she went to the shop to gather various elementary school study materials, intending to send them to Yu Xiangqing.

Since Yu Xiangju was now staying with her, she decided to keep him busy with studying. Keeping his mind occupied with tasks like practice exercises might leave him less time to dwell on troubling thoughts.

Yu Xiang’an felt this approach might not seem friendly but was practical and effective.

She knew Yu Xiangju’s feelings toward Zhao Qiaoniang were complicated. Her kindness to him had been real. In the future, if he wanted to provide some help to Zhao Qiaoniang, she had no objections.

However, knowing Ding Minxiu’s personality and the Zhou family’s attitude, she worried that when Zhao Qiaoniang grew older and could no longer work, she might give everything she had to them. If that happened, her later years might be difficult.

Yu Xiang’an could only hope that Zhao Qiaoniang would have the sense to leave herself a way out.

She understood that if Zhao Qiaoniang left herself a fallback, her future wouldn’t be too bleak. Just based on the items she still had, Ding Minxiu would treat her well. However, if she became completely worthless, the situation might take a turn for the worse. If Zhao Qiaoniang ended up living miserably, Yu Xiangju would likely soften and step in to help.

He was a considerate child.

…

Liu Taoquan was now just an old man who cleaned toilets, spending his days surrounded by filth and carrying a lingering odor that made people instinctively avoid him. People kept their distance, unwilling to come near.

At times, he couldn’t understand how his life had come to this. The days he once lived seemed like a distant memory, as if from another life.

He had been a factory director, carrying the legacy of his family that had lasted for two or three generations. After much effort, he had revitalized the family business. But then, everything changed. His family’s assets were confiscated, and he was sent to clean toilets as a way to “reform his capitalist-corrupted mind” through hard labor.

The family’s grand residence was divided among numerous households, leaving him and his family with only two small side rooms. His meager earnings from toilet cleaning barely kept his family alive.

Though the job was dirty and degrading, it had one small advantage: because of the stench that clung to him, he wasn’t frequently hauled out for public criticism or denounced by the masses. People avoided him, preferring not to engage.

Compared to standing on a stage being pelted with rotten eggs, being occasionally hit with wilted leaves while working was bearable.

At first, he hated the job but came to accept it as his shield, allowing him to endure just a little easier.

Still, some would occasionally barge into his home to ensure they weren’t living a life “above their station.”

He tolerated it all. Losing his own dignity didn’t matter—he had lived long enough—but his grandchildren were still young.

They had grown up amid endless ridicule and hardship, but they had managed to survive. Now, however, Liu Taoquan feared he might fail his ancestors.

His only grandson was on the brink of death.

The boy had been taunted and humiliated by a group of teenagers. Unable to endure it, he fought back. Although he managed to land some blows, he was overpowered and gravely injured. His head was covered in blood, and he fell unconscious. Liu Taoquan rushed to take him to a doctor.

The doctor, someone with past ties to the Liu family, examined the boy and gravely informed him: his grandson needed aged ginseng to save his life. Without it, survival was unlikely.

Liu Taoquan had some ginseng reserved for emergencies, but it was limited and could only sustain the boy for a short while. The treatment required a steady supply, which was far beyond the family’s current means.

The doctor, moved by their past connection, initially covered the costs himself, but he could not continue to do so indefinitely.

Hearing this, Liu Taoquan wept bitterly.

His family had once kept a stock of premium aged ginseng, but it had long since disappeared—most likely stolen when their home was ransacked.

Now, in this dire situation, finding aged ginseng was nearly impossible.

Yet as he watched his grandson’s shallow, labored breaths, he refused to give up.

Desperate, he began reaching out to people he knew, trying every possible avenue to procure aged ginseng of at least 30 years. He offered a high price for it.

Some acquaintances had reserves of aged ginseng, but such items were considered lifesaving treasures. Few were willing to part with them, knowing how hard it would be to replace them.

Eventually, word of this reached Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai. They learned that someone was willing to pay a hefty price for 30-year-old ginseng.

The two looked at each other and asked, “How hefty is this ‘high price’?”

The two of them were clearly interested in this transaction, which meant they indeed had the goods.

Liu Taoquan soon arrived at the designated meeting spot. His eyes were bloodshot, with dark circles beneath them, but his gaze was sharp and fierce, like that of a wolf. It was clear that the person in need of the ginseng was very important to him. Judging by his demeanor, if the person could not be saved, Liu Taoquan might do something extreme and unpredictable.

Even a broken ship retains a few nails.

“You two have ginseng that is over 30 years old?” he asked.

Lin Chuanbai nodded.

Liu Taoquan opened a sandalwood box and revealed a pair of jade pendants, one shaped like a dragon and the other like a phoenix. The jade was of the highest quality, mutton-fat jade. “This has been passed down in my family for generations. Someone once offered two thousand silver dollars for it, but my ancestors refused to sell.”

Even though Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an weren’t jade experts, they could tell at a glance that this was a treasure of extraordinary quality.

So far, it was the finest jade they had ever encountered.

Lin Chuanbai then pulled out a small cloth bundle from his pocket, unwrapping it to reveal the ginseng for Liu Taoquan’s inspection.

Liu Taoquan examined it carefully, ensuring that the age of the ginseng matched the claim. He nodded. “This looks to be about 32 years old.”

Lin Chuanbai corrected him: “This ginseng has been growing for over 33 years. It meets the requirement of being more than 30 years old.”

Ginseng has that kind of allure. When it comes to life-and-death situations, even treasures that families have preserved for generations are willingly traded for it.

Lin Chuanbai was certain that Liu Taoquan had more valuable items in his possession. Generations of family wealth usually left behind more than a single heirloom.

The jade pendants—meant to be a dragon-and-phoenix pair—were carefully examined and then set aside. Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an decided they would keep them as heirlooms, a perfect match for their twin children. A pair of dragon and phoenix pendants for their dragon-and-phoenix twins seemed like destiny.

Later, Lin Chuanbai happened to see Liu Taoquan again. He was still quietly cleaning toilets, blending into the background as an unremarkable figure. However, judging from his demeanor, the person he wanted to save had likely recovered. The fierce and desperate aura that once clung to him was gone.

It was good to know the person had been saved.

A coworker who noticed Lin Chuanbai’s lingering gaze toward Liu Taoquan began to explain. “Do you know who that is? That’s the former tobacco tycoon of this area. Half of the cigarettes made around here used to come from his factory. He was a big shot back then, with his own estates and mansions. His life was as carefree as it gets. But after everything was confiscated—or donated, depending on who you ask—he ended up as a toilet cleaner. It’s really quite tragic.”

As the coworker sighed endlessly, Lin Chuanbai remained silent.

Liu Taoquan wasn’t the only one with such a story.

During those times, nearly every family that had some measure of wealth had experienced events tragic enough to be the subject of a dramatic tearjerker.

Lin Chuanbai was quietly grateful that he hadn’t ended up labeled as one of the “black five categories.”

…

That year was relatively uneventful, aside from one incident. A vacancy opened up in the mechanical factory’s health clinic due to someone being transferred out. Lin Houpin hoped Lin Chuanbai would take the position, but Lin Chuanbai declined.

Lin Houpin pressed him, “Have you never considered the possibility that you might fail the exams? Besides, who knows when the entrance exams will even be reinstated?”

“If I fail, I have a backup plan,” Lin Chuanbai replied calmly. “I’ll just become self-employed.”

Lin Houpin was speechless. This obstinate child just wouldn’t listen.

When Lin Duzhong asked about his goals, Lin Chuanbai mentioned that he planned to focus on pharmaceutical development in the future. Lin Duzhong approved and didn’t press him further. The now-vacant position, after all, was for treating patients, which wasn’t aligned with Lin Chuanbai’s ambitions.

Lin Houpin soon realized he was the only one in the family opposing Lin Chuanbai’s decision.

“…Fine,” he muttered to himself.

Alright, he decided not to intervene anymore.

By this year, the movements had largely subsided. In some places, there were strong counteractions, while others managed to stabilize under proper leadership. Qin City belonged to the latter, where things were brought under control smoothly. That year, the chaotic disturbances diminished significantly.

At this time, however, there was no news yet about the potential reinstatement of college entrance exams.

Yu Xiang’an asked Liu Hengbo to help draft an exam paper.

Liu Hengbo was excellent in history, and his performance in other subjects wasn’t bad either. When the test results came out, he was filled with regret. If the college entrance exams hadn’t been interrupted, Xiao An would definitely have been able to get into a good university.

He had always admired her talent. While he knew she had been studying diligently, he wasn’t sure how much she had achieved until this test clearly showed her level.

His appreciation and sense of loss were palpable. Over the years, with the college entrance exams abolished, countless talents had been wasted.

It was truly a pity.

…

Time flew by, and it was soon 1977.

Once 1977 arrived, Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an devoted even more energy to their studies.

Rumors began circulating in April. Lin Houpin, being in a high-ranking position, was among the first to hear about it. He called the two of them back, looking somewhat conflicted.

“If the college entrance exams really are reinstated, do you think you two are ready?”

Hearing this, Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an became visibly excited. Was there news?

If so, then this timeline would restore the exams slightly earlier than in their original world.

“Yes! We’re confident in our abilities. Whether it’s good or bad, we’re prepared to face it.”

Lin Houpin nodded. “Good. Just remember what you said. Don’t let me find out later that those were empty words. Focus on your studies and make sure nothing goes wrong at the last moment.”

This was as good as confirmation.

Li Yujiao, listening on the side, looked slightly amused. They had actually managed to wait for the return of college entrance exams.

If rumors like this were circulating, there was likely some truth to them. Even if the authorities hadn’t finalized their decision yet, it wouldn’t take too long.

Lin Duzhong, smiling, was already supportive. His grandson had long told him that if the exams were reinstated, he would apply to medical school.

When it came to pharmaceuticals, Lin Duzhong didn’t have much expertise, but attending medical school would expose Lin Chuanbai to many experienced mentors. He had full confidence in his grandson’s talent and dedication, believing he would definitely succeed.

“Let me take care of the children for you. Don’t worry about them—just focus entirely on your studies.”

Lin Chuanbai breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Grandpa.”

Yu Xiang’an also sent telegrams to Yu Qingshan, Yu Qing, and Yu Qingyan.

The telegrams didn’t explicitly state anything but served to affirm the contents of her previous letters.

The message was clear—she had caught wind of the rumors.

They would know immediately that she intended to participate.

Upon reading the telegram, Yu Qingshan was visibly moved. If she managed to get into university, it would bring immense pride to the Yu family.

Yu Qingshan shared the news with Yu Xianghai and Yao Cuifen, who merely read it with interest.

At their age, the idea of taking the college entrance exams was unrealistic—they had long since forgotten much of what they’d learned in school. However, Ye Qijia’s two younger brothers were at the right age and still in high school. If the exams were reinstated, they could smoothly transition to university. With this in mind, Ye Qijia made a trip back to her parents’ home and soon returned with textbooks and study materials.

Yu Qiangshen was thrilled to receive the telegram.

She wholeheartedly supported her sister.

The college entrance exams were bound to be reinstated sooner or later. Now that there was this rumor, the official announcement shouldn’t be far off. Yu Xiang’an felt both nervous and excited.

Why not give it a try?

If she didn’t pass, life would go on as usual. But if she succeeded, she would become a university student.

She didn’t just study by herself—she also made Yu Xiangju study with her, giving them both company.

Yu Xiangju: “…”

Life was too hard.

Despite his complaints, Yu Xiangju’s grades were actually quite good. Whether in the county or now at the commune, he was always among the top three in his class.

Before they even started school, Yu Xiang’an had laid the groundwork for both Yu Xiangju and Yu Mingjie. She used delicious food as the carrot dangling in front of the donkey, enticing them to study. This gave them an advantage from the start. Their strong performance early on earned them recognition, and they continued to maintain this edge. They had their pride—if their rankings suddenly dropped, they’d feel regretful.

When Yu Xiangyan read the news, he spent two hours deep in thought. If the college entrance exams were reinstated, there was a high chance that Wen Ruzhen and Wen Yizhen would participate.

The two of them were naturally talented in academics.

If they took the exams, they would most likely succeed.

But what about him?

Yu Xiangyan knew his academic abilities were average at best. He wasn’t confident. Still, there were good and bad universities. If they got into top schools, he could aim for a less competitive one.

And if he didn’t pass at all? Yu Xiangyan wiped his face. In that case, he’d simply follow his wife to university, find a job nearby, and stay close to her. But ideally, he would pass, too. That way, they’d be more evenly matched as a couple. Determined, he resolved to succeed, no matter what.

Over the years, he had saved up a bit of money, enough to support them for a few years. If it wasn’t enough, he could borrow from friends or family—it wouldn’t be a big problem.

Having made up his mind, he took the telegram to Wen Ruzhen and shared the good news with her.

With a playful smile, he said, “We originally planned to visit my sister this year, but it looks like we should focus on studying for now. Although my sister told us to keep quiet, we should still inform Grandpa and the others.”

Wen Ruzhen’s face lit up with a radiant smile.

If the college entrance exams were reinstated, did that mean her father’s reputation might also be restored?

Just the thought of it made her eyes well up with tears.

Had they finally reached the dawn after a long night?

…

Yu Xiangyan thought about the three Yu Manchang brothers. Yu Manchang had the highest education among them, with a middle school diploma. Would any of them want to take the exams?

Initially, Yu Xiangyan doubted it. But then he remembered Yu Manwu, who was always chasing after Ruan Chenxi. That gave him pause.

If the educated youth knew that the exams were likely to be reinstated, they’d surely want to participate. Take Ruan Chenxi, for example—her family was in Shanghai. If she passed the exams, wouldn’t that be her ticket back to the city?

As Yu Xiangyan resolved to grit his teeth and study, he couldn’t help but wonder what Yu Manwu would choose. If he couldn’t let go of Ruan Chenxi, he might just pick up his books again and give it a shot.

When Yu Manwu learned about the news, he stayed silent for a long time.

Yu Xiangyan patted him on the shoulder. “There’s no rush. Take your time to think it over.”

Yu Manwu forced a bitter smile. “If I keep delaying and the news turns out to be true, I’ll have wasted her time. Bro, are you really planning to take the exams?”

Yu Xiangyan laughed. “Don’t underestimate me. I graduated from high school, you know.”

Yu Manwu barely managed a smile. “I’m not the same. I only graduated from elementary school. Do you think I could actually get into university?” He shook his head, muttering to himself, “Let me think this through… really think it through…”

The news hadn’t yet spread widely, but it was already causing ripples in people’s hearts.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃