Ch 73: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Yu Xiang’an paused for a second after hearing Ke Manyun’s words, then maintained her smile. “Thank you for your concern. I’ve already thought about how to handle summer; you’ll see for yourself when the time comes. As for my safety going south, you don’t need to worry about that. The way you’re speaking, anyone who doesn’t know might think I’m going to do something shady. If that’s the case, you’d better not come, lest you get implicated.”

Ke Manyun’s eyes turned red, her voice choked. “I didn’t mean that. You misunderstood me.”

Yu Xiang’an nodded. “Mhm, if you say so, then it must be true. You just speak without thinking.” Her expression seemed to say, Do you really think I’ll believe you?

Liu Mingyue, not wanting the atmosphere to turn sour, coughed lightly and interjected, “Alright, the soup is boiling. Let’s put in a few slices of potato first. I feel like eating potatoes.”

She sighed inwardly, resolving to keep her distance from Ke Manyun in the future.

Although she already maintained some distance, Ke Manyun clearly didn’t realize it. Whether her careless words were intentional or not, dealing with someone like her was exhausting. Liu Mingyue’s work was busy enough—she didn’t need to “mentor” someone like her. Even Wang Meng, who was truly younger, wasn’t this tactless.

Wang Meng, meanwhile, suddenly understood why Yu Xiang’an hadn’t invited Ke Manyun to her restaurant opening. So that’s why. If it were her, she wouldn’t bother with someone like this either. Yu Xiang’an could even smile through it—her composure was impressive. As expected of the vice class leader. Wang Meng realized she still had a lot to learn.

Not wanting the situation to become more awkward, Wang Meng jumped in. “I want some of that too! Let’s add some fried dough sticks. I love putting them in at this stage.”

Having tasted Yu Xiang’an’s cooking many times during their university days, Wang Meng was soon too busy savoring the food to talk.

This is so good!
And this is amazing too!
Everything is delicious!

Liu Mingyue and Wang Meng ate to their hearts’ content, but Ke Manyun found no joy in the meal. She kept wondering why Yu Xiang’an would think she meant harm when she was just trying to help.

Seeing her friends enjoying themselves, Yu Xiang’an’s frustration subsided. Why bother arguing with someone so clueless? She smiled. “If you’re enjoying the food, eat more. I have to step out to take care of something but will check on you later.”

Liu Mingyue waved her off. “Go ahead. Don’t worry about us. We’re all friends here.”

Yu Xiang’an left the room.

Once she was gone, Ke Manyun turned to Liu Mingyue and Wang Meng, her voice uncertain. “Did I upset her just now? I meant what I said—she’s a beautiful woman going to such a distant place. It’s dangerous. I didn’t mean anything else.”

Liu Mingyue raised her hand to pause the conversation. “I don’t know why you said what you did, but she clearly has a plan. There’s no need for you to meddle, and I don’t want to hear it anymore. We came here to eat, so let’s focus on that, okay?”

She regretted coming with Ke Manyun. Wang Meng felt the same. Why did I even tell her?

In the future, it would be better to avoid talking to her altogether. Every casual remark seemed to stir up trouble.

When it was time to settle the bill, another small disagreement arose. At this hotpot place, the cost was straightforward: each plate and skewer had a set price, and the soup bases were fixed as well.

Wei Funi said while tallying the bill, “The boss said you’re friends, so you get a 20% discount.”

Ke Manyun muttered, “Isn’t she the one treating us?”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it wasn’t soft either, and everyone heard her. Liu Mingyue silently pulled out money as if she hadn’t heard a thing. She used to think Ke Manyun was just a little naive, but today she realized just how oblivious she truly was. That’s enough. This kind of person is not worth associating with.

Wang Meng was initially surprised but then became thoughtful. She wasn’t like this before. Did something happen? Is it jealousy?

The more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

Wang Meng shook her head. If she’s envious, she can always start her own business. But does she have the courage?

Even if people knew how profitable it could be, that didn’t mean they had the resolve to take the plunge. It was too unstable. Unless someone could earn enough for a lifetime in a short period, most wouldn’t dare to risk it.

After hearing what Ke Manyun said, Wei Funi wasted no time in informing Yu Xiang’an. She cautioned, “That classmate of yours seems like the type to say one thing to your face and another behind your back.” Not exactly a trustworthy person.

Yu Xiang’an nodded. “I understand. We’re just ordinary classmates anyway. Also, if she comes again or brings friends, charge full price—no discounts.”

Seeing that Yu Xiang’an was aware, Wei Funi felt relieved. “As long as you know. Some people may look shy and reserved, but they’re really like venomous snakes, waiting for the right moment to bite you. You never know when it’ll happen.” She shook her head, her expression suggesting she was recalling a story of her own.

Before they knew it, the year-end of 1982 arrived, and with it came the Lunar New Year. Business at Yu Xiang’an’s shop only got better.

The New Year was the most important holiday of the year. Even the most frugal people were willing to spend a little extra to improve their family’s meals or buy a couple of new outfits.

At Yu Xiang’an’s shop, whether a customer had a tight budget or deep pockets, everyone could satisfy their cravings.

Even the employees, who were typically very thrifty, packed up some items to take home. They were the type to save their work meals to bring home to their families. But for the New Year, with a little more money in their pockets, they allowed themselves to splurge for once.

Despite the booming business, Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai planned to return to Qin City to celebrate the New Year with their family.

Naturally, the shop would close for a few days, as everyone needed a break to enjoy the holiday.

A notice was posted with the closure dates, prompting another surge in business, especially from customers stocking up on braised food in bulk to prepare for the festivities.

Yu Xiang’an prepared New Year gifts strategically to “silence” Lin Duzhong and Lin Houpin, ensuring they wouldn’t pester her about returning to the “right path.” The gifts needed to be valuable and reflect their prosperous life so that her family wouldn’t worry.

Since Lin Houpin had already purchased a television, and the household already owned radios, sewing machines, watches, and bicycles, Yu Xiang’an decided to buy an air conditioner for them.

Air conditioners were in short supply, so Yu Xiang’an took one of the two units she had reserved for her hotpot shop’s summer installation, planning to replace it before the season arrived.

Although they hadn’t installed air conditioning in their own home yet, there was still plenty of time before summer, so there was no rush.

Meanwhile, Lin Yihong and Lin Yining, now in second grade, were enjoying their school life. At their age, friendships were formed more on a whim than with much thought.

The twins’ outstanding looks helped them make friends easily. Regardless of gender, classmates couldn’t resist their charm and friendliness. Sometimes, when Yu Xiang’an made delicious treats, the twins would bring some to school to share, further endearing them to their peers. They were little stars in their class.

Now, with the New Year approaching, the twins were excited to return to their grandparents’ house and say goodbye to their school friends for the holiday. They also prepared small gifts for their friends back home.

The family housing compound had many children, and every time the twins visited, they were thrilled to play and reconnect.

Watching the children grow was a constant reminder of how quickly time passed. Seeing how much they had grown taller over the year brought a sense of time’s progression to Yu Xiang’an.

These two kids sure knew how to eat well and grow strong.

Loaded with gifts, they arrived at the family housing compound of the Qin City Machinery Factory. When Lin Duzhong saw his great-grandchildren, he beamed with joy. “Kids, come here! Let me take a look at you—ohhh you’re taller again!”

He was living an increasingly relaxed life. On most days, he either chatted with friends or studied medical cases, occasionally prescribing remedies for people.

If he had one regret, it was that the house sometimes felt too quiet.

Zhang Ying had joined the military, and little grandson Tiandong wasn’t the type to make a lot of noise. But now that the twins were here, the house was filled with laughter and cheer.

Lin Tiandong liked the twins, especially his niece. She was sweet-talking, affectionate, and loved clinging to him. The only nuisance came when introducing the kids to others—people often asked why their names didn’t follow traditional conventions.

After all, names like Duzhong, Houpin, Guangbai, Yunling, Chuanbai, and Tiandong were all derived from medicinal herbs, chosen by Lin Duzhong. But for the next generation, including Guangbai’s children and Chuanbai’s twins, naming was left to the younger couples.

Why didn’t they stick to herb names? Simple—the ones choosing names had changed.

When Lin Tiandong had free time, he loved playing soccer on the open field with others. Today, he had an appointment and someone came to call him, “Tiandong, let’s go play!”

As soon as Lin Yihong and Lin Yining heard this, they couldn’t sit still. Lin Duzhong waved his hand. “Go with your uncle and have some fun.”

Lin Tiandong’s status in the housing compound was clear—he was the factory director’s son. Those who knew his identity tended to tread carefully around him. Now, with Lin Yihong and Lin Yining joining him, the twins easily became the center of attention too.

On the soccer field, Lin Tiandong was dazzling.

Lin Yining watched her uncle with eyes sparkling in admiration.

After playing a match, Lin Tiandong waved to the twins from the field, then walked over, wiping sweat from his brow. Lin Yining immediately handed him a thermos filled with hot water.

Lin Yihong, on the other hand, was eager to join in.

Lin Tiandong chuckled. “Think you can handle it? Want to play a game?”

Lin Yihong showed no fear. “Sure, I’m in!”

Among the group of young men, Lin Yihong was the youngest.

Typically, older kids didn’t like playing with someone younger, but Lin Yihong’s enthusiasm didn’t meet much resistance.

Everyone was bundled up in thick clothing, but after running around, they began shedding layers as they broke a sweat.

After a few matches, Lin Yihong had already bonded with the group.

Noticing the time, Lin Tiandong raised his wrist to check his watch. It was a prized possession—a gift from Lin Houpin when Tiandong went for military training, to remind him of punctuality. He cherished it so much that it still looked brand new.

“We should head back. You’ve all worked up a sweat—go home and change into dry clothes.”

Wet clothes clinging to the body could easily lead to catching a cold.

Lin Yining giggled and tugged on his hand. “Uncle, you’re amazing at soccer!”

Her brother, however, hadn’t fared as well. His age and height were clear disadvantages, though she could tell her uncle had gone easy on him—otherwise, there wouldn’t have been such an evenly matched game.

Lin Yihong rolled his eyes. “If you played, you wouldn’t last half a match.”

Lin Yining grinned. “I know I’m not good at it. But you’re not good and you don’t even realize it.”

Watching the siblings bicker back and forth, Lin Tiandong smiled. Their bond seemed to grow stronger through these playful arguments.

When they returned, Yu Xiang’an had already tidied up and, seeing them back, instructed Lin Yihong to change into dry clothes.

Having just arrived and taken a long train ride, they were understandably tired. But kids were different—still full of energy, they’d gone out to play and returned drenched in sweat.

Lin Yining, who hadn’t broken a sweat, clung to Yu Xiang’an’s arm. “Mom, what’s for dinner?”

“Your grandpa bought lamb. We’re having lamb stew tonight. Want me to make some meat-filled flatbreads too?”

Without hesitation, Lin Yining exclaimed, “Yes please!” Only a fool would say no.

After dinner, the children went off to bed while Lin Houpin called Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai over for a talk. Both of them knew what was coming.

Without any small talk, Lin Houpin got straight to the point. “So, about you resigning to go into business—how’s that going?”

Yu Xiang’an replied confidently, “Very well.”

Lin Houpin sighed. From the gifts they had brought, he already had a sense of how things were going, but he still wanted verbal confirmation. “Are you really giving up the iron rice bowl? You know private business isn’t stable. These good times might only last a couple of years.”

Yu Xiang’an smiled. “If that happens, I’ll just find another way.”

Lin Houpin relented. “Fine, have it your way.” Then he turned to Lin Chuanbai for a private conversation. “And you? You’re just letting your wife do as she pleases?”

Lin Chuanbai replied calmly, “She can do whatever makes her happy.”

Lin Houpin’s eyes widened. “You’ve lost all control as a husband!”

“If it were my wife, this wouldn’t happen,” Lin Houpin grumbled.

Lin Chuanbai chuckled. “That’s mutual respect. She’s running a legitimate business. What’s wrong with that? You’ll see—your daughter-in-law is going to achieve great things.”

Lin Houpin shook his head. “Fine, we’ll see. And what about you? What are your plans?”

“I’ll continue working with my mentor on experiments after graduation and see where that leads. Maybe one day, I’ll have my own lab. That would be ideal.”

Lin Houpin sighed deeply. “So, you have no intention of taking over my position.”

Lin Chuanbai replied matter-of-factly, “I’m here to make my own way. It’s not like I can just step into your role.”

“But with me here, your path would be much smoother. You think I got to where I am now without struggles? It took years of navigating bullets and hardships. Without achievements and connections, it’s tough.”

Lin Chuanbai understood his father’s regrets. “What about my little brother?”

“Your little brother?” Lin Houpin’s expression shifted slightly.

Lin Chuanbai clarified, “I won’t compete with a kid. Everyone has their path. If he wants to follow yours, you can guide him along.”

Lin Houpin fell silent.

Not competing with a kid—did that mean he still had unresolved grievances with the adults?

Lin Houpin felt conflicted, unsure whether to admire his son’s independence or criticize his pride. His emotions were a jumbled mess.

“All of you are my children. To me, you’re all the same,” he said.

Lin Chuanbai didn’t respond.

The words sounded fair, but in reality, those raised close to him and those raised elsewhere couldn’t possibly be treated the same, just like fingers of differing lengths.

After their private talk, they rejoined the festivities as if nothing had happened, celebrating the New Year with smiles. Life was getting better for everyone.

With the lifting of restrictions on private trade, buying items like pork or poultry became much more convenient, making this year’s New Year feast the most abundant yet.

After the holiday, they returned to the capital. The hotpot and braised food shops reopened, and Yu Xiang’an ramped up her braised food wholesale business, earning even more.

As her savings grew, Yu Xiang’an began preparing to head to the southern special economic zone. But before she could leave, devastating news arrived—her grandfather, Yu Changyou, had passed away.

Hurriedly, she packed her belongings and, together with Yu Xiangyan, Lin Chuanbai, and the children, bought tickets to return home.

---

Yu Mansheng, who had just enjoyed a pride-filled New Year and returned to the special economic zone, also received the terrible news shortly after. He quickly handed over his stall to others to manage and bought a ticket to head home immediately.

Since he was nearby, he could return quickly.

He never expected his grandfather to pass so suddenly.

Before he left, his grandfather had stood at the doorway, watching him leave, reminding him to come home more often. How had it all changed in the blink of an eye?

Just last year, he had started making progress, and this year, he was planning to go all out. But now his grandfather was gone and wouldn’t be there to witness it.

This year, over fifty young men had followed him to venture out, some from their Red Star Brigade, some from neighboring brigades, and even a few from his uncles’ remote mountain village.

He had become a leader.

Yu Mansheng recalled how, when he first arrived in the special economic zone, he was just an inexperienced country bumpkin.

He had some money, though not much. To cover expenses, he did various jobs—washing dishes, carrying goods, running errands. Later, he worked at construction sites, helping to build houses. It was work he already knew how to do, and by observing those around him, he picked up even more skills.

Eventually, he began organizing villagers and formed a construction team, taking on projects himself.

Having worked at a brick factory before, he knew the ins and outs of building houses. While he couldn’t take on large projects, small and medium-sized ones were manageable. And with the young men from Red Star Brigade, many of whom were familiar with construction, they managed to get by.

At first, business was tough. Without a reputation, they could only take on minor jobs. But as demand for housing grew and manpower became scarce, they began landing bigger projects.

Once opportunities started coming, more followed.

They sent wages, letters, and packages home regularly, which gradually eased their families’ worries and opposition.

The saying strength in numbers was true—just from their Red Star Brigade, they had over ten young men. Including others who joined them, their group was large enough to instill confidence.

Later, his cousins joined as well, and even his mother felt reassured.

Yu Mansheng thought of his maternal uncles—seven of them in total!

Unlike their area, which had a paper mill and a brick kiln, his uncles’ region had little arable land. People there relied on the mountains to survive, often substituting mountain produce for staple grains. Life was tough.

But his uncles and cousins were tall, strong men who excelled at hunting and were also hard workers. With so many able-bodied men banding together, who could dare bully them?

Yu Mansheng had been thriving in the special economic zone.

When they all returned home for the New Year, it caused quite a stir.

To show off their success and because they had earned money, they spent lavishly on purchases.

Yu Mansheng brought home a television.

Others bought radios or watches, while those with less savings bought new clothes and shoes.

The fanfare made for an eventful New Year, with many people coming to ask about life outside or expressing their desire to leave their hometown and join the group.

Looking back, Yu Mansheng remembered how proud he had felt.

As long as someone had good character, he welcomed them with open arms.

The more people they had, the faster they could complete projects, settle payments, and take on more work—earning even more money.

He had three brothers: the eldest was skilled at brickmaking, the second had been admitted to college, and there was no way he would let himself be the only one left behind.

Was he proud?

Absolutely.

But now, thinking back, Yu Mansheng was filled with regret.

That New Year, he had barely spent any time with his grandparents. Most of his time had been spent talking to others, basking in his own success.

As he thought about it, sitting on the train, tears streamed down his face. Suddenly, he broke into loud sobs.

Hearing him cry and calling out for his grandfather, those around him seemed to understand. They sighed, one after another, feeling his sorrow.

The moon waxes and wanes; people experience birth, aging, illness, and death.

Grief is all they can manage.

It was Zhang Juhua who first discovered Yu Changyou had passed, though even then it was belated.

As people age, they tend to sleep less. Zhang Juhua usually rose early, and that day was no exception. She got up, went to the kitchen to start the fire, and her daughter-in-law joined her. Together, they prepared breakfast. When it was time to eat, her husband still hadn’t come out. Thinking he was enjoying a rare lie-in, she called for him. But no matter how loudly she called, there was no response.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she rushed into the bedroom to find his body already cold, devoid of life.

He had passed away in his sleep.

Her husband had spent the first half of his life struggling through hardship. Later, when their second son became successful, their days had improved, and when the grandchildren grew up to achieve even more, they finally began to enjoy a life of comfort. But why couldn’t he have enjoyed it a little longer?

Why couldn’t these good days have lasted a few more years?

Given his age, Yu Changyou’s death was considered a peaceful one. He was in his seventies, and his family spanned four generations, with children and grandchildren who were accomplished: workers, officials, and teachers. In Red Star Brigade, anyone who spoke of him did so with admiration, envying the happy life he had built.

As news of his passing spread, capable and willing neighbors arrived to help. Notifications were sent, preparations were made, and everything was arranged with care.

Unlike in the past, people now paid more attention to appearances. With the Yu family living a prosperous life, any lack of effort in honoring the funeral might spark gossip about unfilial descendants. Therefore, everything was meticulously organized in accordance with tradition. Even the half-grown pig Zhang Juhua had been raising, originally reserved for the busy farming season, was slaughtered for the funeral.

The cold weather allowed them to keep the body for a few days, so by the time Yu Xiang’an and Yu Xiangyan arrived, the funeral had not yet taken place.

Stepping off the train, both the adults and children looked visibly drained.

At their age, the twins were old enough to understand some things. This was their first encounter with the death of a loved one.

Death meant never seeing or hearing from him again.

In addition to Yu Xiang’an and Yu Xiangyan, Yu Manwu had also rushed back from Shanghai—alone.

For years, his situation with Ruan Chenxi had remained unresolved. Judging by her absence, it seemed they had not taken the final step.

Yu Qingshan, usually a composed and reserved man, could no longer hold back his emotions. At the funeral, he and Yu Qingbao wept openly, joined by children, siblings, relatives, and younger generations. The entire house echoed with wailing.

Yu Changyou had lived through many challenges, surviving as the eldest of four brothers and two sisters.

• The second brother, Yu Changcun, had a son, Yu Shunwen, who now served as brigade leader.
• The third brother went missing as a teenager.
• The fourth brother passed away in his prime, leaving behind a son who lived a steady life in Red Star Brigade.
• The eldest sister married into a neighboring brigade but tragically passed away before her wedding.
• The youngest sister, unable to survive at home, was sent away as a child bride before the age of ten. Her family lost contact with her after the household she married into moved away.

Aside from the third brother and youngest sister, the rest had children, and those children had their own descendants.

Yu Changyou himself had two sons, Yu Qingshan and Yu Qingbao, both of whom had large families.

• Yu Qingbao had two daughters and three sons. Except for the youngest two, all were married with children, each with at least two kids.
• Yu Qingshan had three sons and two daughters, all of whom had at least two children, except for the youngest, Yu Xiangju.

All together, the family could fill an entire house.

By the time Yu Xiang’an and the others returned, the family was complete. When they held the funeral procession to the mountains, onlookers marveled at the sheer size of the group, secretly envious of the large, prosperous family.

It was hard to believe now, but some of the older residents still remembered when the family was on the brink of collapse. After the death of the adults, the young Yu Changyou, barely in his teens, had been left to care for his siblings. Forced to leave the village to survive, many thought the siblings would never return.

Who would have thought that out of the four brothers, three would return, all married with children, and in the blink of an eye, their family would flourish into what it is today?

Thirty years the river flows east, thirty years it flows west.

Back then, those who lived comfortably have now fallen into decline.

Yu Xiang’an was deeply worried about Zhang Juhua. Unlike the others who cried and vented their grief, her grandmother didn’t shed a single tear. Instead, she even managed to force a smile.

She was likely trying to reassure everyone not to worry, but no one wanted her to force herself to smile. They would rather she cry and let it all out.

With others around, she held it together, but when left alone, her vacant, dazed expressions were concerning. She wasn’t young anymore, and if she struggled to move on…

Yu Xiang’an wanted to evoke memories that would keep her grandmother grounded, something to hold onto. She didn’t want her to feel that her life was already complete and lose her will to keep going. So, she took the initiative to bring up stories from the past.

Seeing so many relatives, some of whom they rarely interacted with, Yu Xiang’an, who grew up in the county town, wasn’t familiar with many of them. She encouraged her grandmother to share who these people were, how they were related, and what to call them.

Zhang Juhua was happy to talk about such things. Older people often enjoyed sharing these stories.

As she spoke, her thoughts turned to Yu Changyou’s regrets.

“Your grandfather had a fulfilling life,” she said. “In his later years, he never worried about food or clothing, and he lived comfortably at home. Back in the day, only the old masters of landlords lived like this. He told me many times that he felt his life was complete.”

Hearing her grandmother bring up her grandfather on her own, Yu Xiang’an carefully asked, “But did he have anything he regretted?”

Zhang Juhua paused for a moment. “If he had regrets, there were a few. You wouldn’t know this since you grew up in the county. Your father’s generation had several siblings. There was a third brother who went missing as a teenager, and a younger sister who was sent away as a child bride.

“The third brother disappeared at fifteen or sixteen, and the younger sister was given away at eight or nine years old. It wasn’t for greed—just for a bowl of food to survive and grow up. It’s been so many years, and your grandfather always waited for news of them.

“He told me if he passed away before hearing anything, I should carry on waiting. If I ever found out where they went, whether they were alive or dead, I should tell him.

“If they died far from home and were wandering as lonely spirits, I should bring them back to be buried beside their parents. But if they were living well elsewhere, then that would be enough.”

This was the first time Yu Xiang’an had heard this story.

Zhang Juhua sighed. “When I first married him, he used to talk about it a lot. Over the years, as time passed and you children were born, he mentioned it less and less. But after so long, finding someone would be like searching for a needle in a haystack.”

Seeing her grandmother was still deeply concerned about this, Yu Xiang’an quickly asked, “What were their names? If I get lucky, maybe I can find them. Even if I don’t, I can put out an ad in the newspaper. If they see it, they might contact us, and we can reconnect.”

Zhang Juhua was taken aback. “An ad in the newspaper? Is that even possible?”

“Yes! It’s called a missing persons notice, Grandma. Just tell me their names and the names of Grandpa’s parents. I’ll write everything down, include our address and phone number, and if they happen to see it, they’ll know we’re looking for them.”

Zhang Juhua’s face lit up with excitement. “Good! I remember their names. Your grandfather repeated them so many times I couldn’t forget if I tried. If we can find them, that would be wonderful. When I pass on and see him, I can bring him the news.

“Your grandfather was so stubborn—eldest brother as father, eldest brother as father, he always said. Even when he stopped talking about it, it was always on his mind. If he knew they were found, he’d probably wait for me at the Bridge of Forgetfulness…”

🌱🌿 🫧🍃