Ch 62: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Yu Manwu thought about it all afternoon before deciding to approach Ruan Chenxi.

Ruan Chenxi sighed, a hint of helplessness in her expression. “What do you want now?”

“I have good news to share with you,” Yu Manwu replied, catching the trace of resignation in her tone and feeling a bitter pang in his heart.

“There’s talk that the college entrance exams might be reinstated. You should start preparing.”

Ruan Chenxi froze, staring at him in shock. “You… you’re not joking, are you?”

“No, it’s true. The news came from Xiao An.” As he finished speaking, he saw something akin to starlight in her eyes—brilliant and dazzling.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Her gratitude was sincere. If the exams were truly reinstated, knowing in advance and being prepared was entirely different from facing it unprepared.

Yu Manwu gave her a faint smile. “No need to thank me. I have something I want to ask you, though. If the exams do happen and you pass, where will you go? Will you return to Shanghai?”

Ruan Chenxi paused before nodding. “Yes, I’ll go back to Shanghai.”

She knew Yu Manwu’s feelings for her—everyone in Hongxing Brigade did. It wasn’t a secret.

Although she had rejected him, subtly and directly, he still wouldn’t give up. To his credit, he wasn’t overbearing or annoying. His pursuit was typical of young men trying to win a young woman’s affection, and he maintained a level of respect. If she had planned to stay and settle down in the village, he would undoubtedly have been her first choice. But the problem was, she didn’t want to stay.

So, she could only refuse him.

Ruan Chenxi genuinely appreciated his sincerity. It wasn’t easy for someone to persist with the same feelings for years. But appreciation wasn’t enough. If she stayed, she’d face a life of hard labor, tied to the land—a future she could see all too clearly. She wasn’t willing to accept that, even if life as a formal worker in the village improved her circumstances. The gap between her life here and in Shanghai was too wide.

She wanted to go back.

“What if I also get into a university in Shanghai? Would you give me a chance then?”

His fiery gaze caught her off guard. For the first time, Ruan Chenxi found herself at a loss for words.

Was he saying he wanted to take the entrance exams and join her at a university in Shanghai?

Her heart raced. For someone to go to such lengths for her spoke volumes about how much she meant to him. Especially since she knew he’d only graduated from elementary school. The courage it must have taken to ask this question wasn’t lost on her.

She hesitated. It was difficult to shake her head when faced with such youthful determination. At 20-something, he brimmed with energy and an unwavering resolve to achieve what he set his mind to.

If he really could get into a university in Shanghai…

Ruan Chenxi narrowed her eyes slightly, as if speaking more to herself than to him. “I plan to stay in Shanghai for good. If I choose a partner, it’ll be someone who shares my goals, someone I can talk to and work toward a common future with.”

Yu Manwu eagerly replied, “I can do that. You know my family—I’m the second son of three. If I leave for better opportunities, my family won’t stand in my way. Shanghai is a big city, and if I can make it there, they’ll support me.”

In other words, he was willing to build a life with her in Shanghai.

Ruan Chenxi felt a twinge of uncertainty. If she turned him down now, she might regret it later. She might find someone with better family conditions back in Shanghai, but would they be as devoted to her as Yu Manwu was?

She met his gaze, her voice steady. “If you get into a university in Shanghai, I’ll reconsider our relationship. But let me be clear—I’m not agreeing to anything. I’m only saying I’ll reevaluate.”

To Yu Manwu, those words were hope. He’d thought his future was shrouded in darkness, but now, he saw a ray of light, and he was determined to seize it.

His tone was slightly trembling with excitement. “I’m not great at studying, but I’ll do my best. If I don’t understand something, can I come to you for help? I promise I won’t come too often, and I’ll make sure no one gets the wrong idea about us.”

He emphasized, “Just occasionally.”

Ruan Chenxi agreed.

When she said yes, Yu Manwu’s smile was so bright it made one squint unintentionally.

He continued, “I’m planning to go to the city to buy study materials. Would you like to join me? If you can’t, I can bring some back for you. Also, since this news isn’t officially confirmed yet, it’s not a good idea to spread it too widely. Can I ask you to keep it to yourself for now?”

“I’m not asking you to keep it a complete secret, just to be cautious. If people find out and the rumor spreads too quickly, it might negatively impact Xiao An’s side,” Yu Manwu explained.

“I understand. Thank you for telling me,” Ruan Chenxi replied, grasping the risks involved. If this news spread prematurely, it could lead to misunderstandings and unrest, especially among the educated youth. If they were filled with hope only to have it dashed, would they fall into despair or even act irrationally? She didn’t want to find out.

News didn’t just circulate among people like Lin Houpin. Working in a bookstore, Yu Xiang’an quickly noticed the spike in customers purchasing study guides. High school textbooks were soon sold out, with even supplementary materials running low.

Even Liu Hengbo seemed to have caught wind of something, subtly encouraging her to study harder and mentioning optimistic hints about the future, including the possible reinstatement of college entrance exams.

It was clear—the rumors were spreading.

Realizing this, Yu Xiang’an knew she had to intensify her preparations.

At home, the twins began to notice that their parents weren’t spending as much time with them. Previously, even if one parent was busy, the other would make time to play with them in the evenings. But now, their parents were always poring over books under the lamplight. Left to themselves, the twins doodled on paper with crayons, though they still preferred stacking blocks, playing cards, or racing toy cars.

Still, they were good kids. Seeing how hard their parents worked, they decided to entertain themselves for the time being.

A little over a month later, the rumors became widely known. Newspapers published speculative headlines about the possibility of reinstating the college entrance exams. Shortly afterward, an official announcement confirmed it: the exams were back.

The date? Late June.

Compared to their previous lives, it was happening six months earlier.

Once the news was official, their bookstore became a frenzy, with people scrambling to buy study materials. Every day, customers inquired about various guides and textbooks, depleting inventory rapidly. Seizing the moment, Yu Xiang’an resigned from her job.

Liu Hengbo didn’t stop her. He simply said, “If fate allows, we’ll meet again.”

At the time, she didn’t understand what he meant.

Soon after, Lin Chuanbai also resigned from his job.

Many people were signing up for the exams, but resigning from stable jobs to prepare? That was rare. Among their acquaintances, the couple quickly gained a reputation. Some admired their courage, while others mocked them as foolish dreamers.

After the official announcement, they registered without issue. Once the paperwork was complete, they received admission tickets for the exams, which they would need to bring on test day.

Everywhere Yu Xiang’an went, she heard people discussing the exams. Even families without candidates were abuzz.

For families with eligible children, it was a momentous opportunity to change their futures. For others, it symbolized a brighter path ahead for the next generation. The return of the college entrance exams was a cause for celebration.

Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai plunged into an intense routine, reminiscent of their high school days. They quizzed each other on difficult questions, exchanged challenging problem sets, and switched to foundational drills when needed. With both aiming for prestigious universities, their target scores couldn’t afford to be low—they had to push themselves to the limit.

It was just like being in the third year of high school again, with all their energy fully devoted to studying.

During this period, time seemed to crawl by, but the day of the college entrance exam finally arrived. Both Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai felt a wave of relief—it was finally here.

Once the exam was over, they wouldn’t have to carry the weight of uncertainty anymore.

The first subject in the morning was Chinese. When Yu Xiang’an received the test paper, she wrote her name first, then skimmed through the entire exam. She immediately felt more confident and let out a small sigh of relief.

As expected, the questions for the reinstated college entrance exam were relatively lenient. This was likely because many people during this period hadn’t had the opportunity or conditions to continue studying, so overly difficult questions would have left many candidates unable to answer. The test contained a lot of basic questions, and the differentiation would come down to the fewer, more challenging questions toward the end, though even these weren’t overly difficult or weighted too heavily. Overall, it was a considerate exam.

When she finished answering, she felt completely at ease.

She completed the exam well before time was up but carefully reviewed her answers twice to ensure everything was correct. Even so, she waited until the designated time to submit her paper—Yu Xiang’an didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention by being the first to finish.

Lin Chuanbai did the same. Though he had also finished early, he waited in the exam hall until the end.

After leaving the exam room, many examinees looked visibly disheartened. Even if they didn’t openly admit they had done poorly, their expressions said it all.

Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai, mindful of the atmosphere, kept neutral expressions. Smiling too much might invite hostility from other candidates overwhelmed with emotions.

Aside from Chinese, they also found the other subjects manageable.

When the exams were over, the two of them estimated their scores. The difference between their scores was minor, but some subjective questions, such as essays and political analysis, depended on how the graders evaluated them. Based on their estimates, their scores wouldn’t differ by more than 20 points.

Lin Chuanbai’s likelihood of admission was high. Even if his grades weren’t perfect, his chances were still significant. Why? Because certain professions, like doctors and teachers, were given priority due to shortages in those fields.

After finishing the exams and estimating their scores, the next step was filling out their college applications.

At this time, applications were completed before the scores were released. This caused a lot of anxiety—some feared underestimating themselves and applying to lower-tier schools, wasting their high scores, while others might overestimate their performance and apply to top universities only to fall short. To avoid such situations, many approached this step with extreme caution, choosing to underestimate their performance rather than overestimate.

Yu Xiang’an chose the liberal arts track, while Lin Chuanbai chose the science track. Aside from the mandatory subjects—politics, Chinese, and mathematics—Yu Xiang’an also took history and geography, while Lin Chuanbai took physics and chemistry.

Their career goals were clear. Beyond their first-choice universities, their subsequent preferences were all in the capital. If they couldn’t get into their top choice, the other schools would still be excellent options.

While Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai had clear targets, Yu Xiangqing and the others in Baishi County weren’t as certain.

After estimating their scores, they struggled to make decisions. How should they fill out their applications?

Yu Xiang’an provided them with a list of options, but the uncertainty remained. Some wanted to explore far-off places, while others preferred to stay close to home for convenience.

As for Yu Manwu, his decision was straightforward—he followed Ruan Chenxi’s lead and chose Shanghai. He applied for a specialized teacher-training program there, which had a higher chance of priority admission. Over the past few months, he had worked tirelessly, often burning the midnight oil. Whenever he encountered difficulties, he sought help from Ruan Chenxi, Yu Xiang’an, or Wen Ruzhen. His determination and intense studying gave him a solid foundation, allowing him to breeze through the basic questions.

However, he struggled with the more challenging ones.

His foundation was too weak; this limited time wasn’t enough to bring about a dramatic transformation.

When Yu Manwu calculated his scores, he knew they were borderline, but he wouldn’t give up. If he didn’t make it this year, he’d try again next year.

Yu Xiangyan, Wen Ruzhen, and Wen Yizhen all chose universities in the capital. As the political, economic, and cultural hub of the country, the capital had the best universities and was also closer to Nanxi Farm.

Yu Xiangqing and her husband chose universities within their province. Interestingly, Yu Xiangqing chose journalism as her major, which surprised many—she wanted to become a reporter.

No matter how much hesitation there was, all the application forms were eventually submitted. Now, it was a matter of waiting for the results—a nerve-wracking time for everyone.

For Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai, who had quit their jobs to focus on the exams, they now seemed idle to outsiders. In reality, they were far from idle—they were busy selling goods. They had stocked up on food items previously and now had time to sell them to trade for other goods. Knowing they would be relocating to the capital soon, they gathered local specialties to store in their space. With their storage’s incredible preservation abilities, they could enjoy these items whenever they wanted.

This waiting period, which should have been fraught with anxiety, turned into a whirlwind of business and stockpiling. Their initial nervousness faded quickly.

Back in their hometown, however, Yu Xiangqing and the others didn’t share the same calm mindset.

This year, the Yu family had a significant number of people sitting for the college entrance exam. There were Yu Xiangqing and her husband, Yu Xiangyan and his wife, Wen Yizhen, and Yu Manwu, plus Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai in Qin City—a total of eight people. With so many participants, surely one or two would pass, right?

Yu Qingshan had modest expectations. Whether it was a member of the Yu family or a son-in-law, as long as someone succeeded, he planned to set off firecrackers to celebrate.

During the tense waiting period, Yu Qingshan was the first to receive a telegram from Yu Xiang’an. The message was brief: two lines stating that she had been admitted to Qingmu University, and Lin Chuanbai had been accepted to the Capital Medical University. They would soon report to their respective schools.

They had already received their admission letters!

Yu Qingshan immediately took out the firecrackers he had prepared and set them off in a loud, celebratory display.

A prestigious university! In the capital!

His daughter had been admitted to Qingmu University!

Yu Qingshan shared the great news with everyone and allowed himself the indulgence of getting drunk for the first time in years. He was genuinely overjoyed.

He had worried about her future, but now her life seemed to be thriving. It was wonderful, truly wonderful.

While celebrating Yu Xiang’an’s success, Yu Xiangqing and the others couldn’t help but feel anxious about their own results.

The next day, Yu Xiangqing received her admission letter to a provincial university. However, her husband, Yan Peng, did not receive one. They had applied to the same university, but it appeared he hadn’t been accepted. This wasn’t entirely unexpected; when they had calculated their scores, it was clear that Yu Xiangqing’s results were stronger.

Yan Peng hadn’t taken the early rumors of the exam’s return seriously, so he hadn’t devoted much effort to studying initially. Now that one of them had been admitted while the other hadn’t, they had to confront the issue of being separated.

After discussing the matter, they decided that Yu Xiangqing would go to university while Yan Peng stayed behind to continue working and prepare for next year’s exam. By then, they could reunite, and Yu Xiangqing could use the year to familiarize herself with the environment and make arrangements to bring their child along.

Since Yu Xiangqing’s university was within the province, her admission letter arrived quickly. However, the others who had applied to schools further away still had to wait.

With Yu Xiang’an occasionally saying that the college entrance exam would eventually be reinstated, those who took her words to heart and prepared did quite well, such as Wen Ruzhen and Wen Yizhen.

For the two of them, Yu Xiang’an’s predictions were a beacon of hope. They longed to reclaim their reputations through education, and the idea of a brighter future motivated them deeply.

After the exams, they compared their scores, and their results were outstanding. Wen Yizhen, in particular, excelled even further than his sister. Being unburdened by family obligations, he devoted all his spare time outside work to studying. His performance was so remarkable that he became the top scorer in their city.

The local newspaper and education department leaders came to personally congratulate him and present awards.

Yu Shunwen felt as though a miracle had fallen into his lap.

The top scorer of the entire city was from Red Star Brigade—a member of their paper mill! What incredible fortune! This young man not only had good looks but also an exceptional mind, bringing immense pride to them all. Though Wen Yizhen wasn’t originally from the brigade, he was now officially a resident, and Yu Shunwen declared that anyone questioning this would have to answer to him.

Wen Yizhen received an admission letter from the prestigious People’s University of China in the capital. Shortly after, Wen Ruzhen’s letter arrived—she was accepted into Capital Normal University.

Then came Yu Xiangyan’s admission letter. He was accepted into a vocational college in the capital. Opting for a flexible major choice, he had initially applied for history but was reassigned to mathematics.

Seeing the letter, Yu Xiangyan felt a mix of joy and dread. He was thrilled not to have fallen behind; even a vocational college was still a university—a feat worthy of celebrating in the Yu family. But mathematics?

Rubbing his thick hair nervously, he muttered, “Will I go bald by the time I finish this program? No, no! That would be terrible. I need to figure something out!”

Yu Qingshan was overjoyed upon hearing the news. Feeling it was only right, he decided to pay homage to their ancestors. After all, the Yu family now had three university students—five, if including daughters-in-law and sons-in-law. This was nothing short of a family milestone.

Yu Changyou, however, was the most ecstatic, grinning from ear to ear at every encounter. Once the students graduated, the Yu family would be on a whole new level. To not call this a family of scholars would be an injustice to their achievements.

Meanwhile, the Red Star Brigade outperformed other brigades with its astonishing college acceptance rate. Of nearly 30 sent-down youth, 25 participated in the exams. The remaining few either deemed themselves too old or, having established families, couldn’t feasibly register for the exams.

Among the examinees, Ruan Chenxi achieved her dream and received an admission letter from Shanghai University of Posts and Telecommunications. Besides her, two others also received acceptance letters.

However, Yu Manwu did not pass.

His scores might have sufficed for a remote university in a critically-needed field, but he had applied exclusively to Shanghai schools. When no letter arrived, he drowned his disappointment in alcohol, drinking alone for three days. By the time he re-emerged, the despair on his face had vanished.

Approaching Ruan Chenxi, he asked, “I’ll take the exams again next year. Will you wait for me? Can I ask you not to find someone else in the meantime?”

Ruan Chenxi was taken aback. His straightforwardness caught her off guard, and for a moment, she was at a loss for words.

Ruan Chenxi found herself disappointed—disappointed that Yu Manwu hadn’t passed the exam.

The uncertainty weighed heavily. Could he truly succeed in a year? His foundation was too weak, and cramming last minute hadn’t been enough to fill the gaps in his knowledge.

“I will focus on my studies in university. For now, I won’t consider personal matters.” Her words were sincere.

To Yu Manwu, however, this was a glimmer of hope—he wasn’t out of the picture yet.

The telegrams from Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai didn’t elaborate, but their rankings were excellent: Lin Chuanbai placed third in the province for sciences, and Yu Xiang’an secured second place for humanities. They were at the top of their fields.

Once their admission letters arrived, they immediately began preparations. Lin Houpin was elated. Despite being the most skeptical earlier, he was now the most excited.

He quickly wrote to an old comrade in the capital: “We served together in the military, and now he’s a deputy director at the Public Security Bureau there. You can reach out to him. He knows the area well and can help you find a nanny or daycare for the children. If you need to rent a house, he can assist with that too.”

“Thanks, Dad. Can we buy a house there?” Lin Chuanbai asked casually, and Lin Houpin paused, surprised.

“…Are you planning to sell this house and settle there permanently?”

“No, we’re keeping this house for now—it might be useful later. When we enroll, our household registration will transfer to the university’s collective registry. But we’re thinking about the kids’ registration. It would be better to buy a small place, even if it’s old and remote, just to settle their registration there.”

Lin Houpin nodded in agreement. If the children were staying with them, it would be ideal to register them locally.

“So, you’re planning to build a future in the capital?”

“Yes.”

They both dreamt of owning a courtyard house in the second ring, but that was far beyond their current financial reach. For now, they decided to rent a place halfway between their two universities for the next four years.

“The opportunities there are indeed better than here,” Lin Duzhong remarked understandingly. When he was younger, he had also aspired to explore the outside world.

Lin Houpin sighed and nodded. “I’ll write to my comrade and ask him to look into it. He knows the area better than you do.”

“What does he like?” Lin Chuanbai asked. It wouldn’t do to show up empty-handed, even with an old friend.

“He likes drinking and eating meat.”

That preference was straightforward, practical, and easy to fulfill.

Before leaving, the couple prepared small commemorative gifts for their colleagues. Yu Xiang’an also took the opportunity to ask Liu Hengbo about the situation at Nanshui Farm. He reassured her that things had relaxed there and that life was manageable.

“Don’t worry about us,” he added with a mysterious smile. “We’ll meet again if fate allows.”

Yu Xiang’an was puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Liu Hengbo only chuckled and refused to elaborate.

They packed up and boarded the train to the capital. As the scenery outside the window receded, both felt a surge of excitement—they had reached this milestone at last.

The college entrance exam had been restored. Could economic reform and opening up be far behind?

🌱🌿 🫧🍃