Ch 98: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

The twins took the pair of blue-and-white porcelain bowls to be appraised, and the result came back: they were fake.

The bowls weren’t worth nearly as much as the price their father had paid back then — a few hundred yuan — and he had only bought them because Fatty’s mother needed the money.

Lin Yining said, “I’m going to tell the teacher that my dad’s friend really likes these bowls.”

Lin Yihong replied, “Mm, think about how to make it sound natural.” He was also one of the students the teacher paid special attention to — which could be a good thing in class sometimes, and a bad thing other times.

Back at school, Lin Yining found an opportunity while asking the teacher a question and said, “Over the weekend, I went with my dad to visit someone. Teacher, I saw the bowls my dad bought from Auntie back then — they looked like part of the same set as the ones my uncle already had, and my uncle really liked them.”

The homeroom teacher froze for a moment. “You saw them at your dad’s friend’s place?” But hadn’t that person said the bowls were just wholesale fakes?

Could it be that a genuine piece had been mixed in with the fakes? If the other party was someone who liked collecting this type of thing, they should be able to tell if it was real.

If it was genuine… the homeroom teacher felt a huge weight lift off his chest.

If it was real, he wouldn’t owe them a favor anymore, and he wouldn’t have to keep saving up money to pay them back.

Thinking this, he smiled. “If your uncle likes it, that’s good.”

Lin Yining nodded obediently. “Then, Teacher, I’ll go back to class.”

On her way back, she gave Lin Yihong an “OK” hand sign.

Lin Yihong nodded.

Fatty Chen Yi noticed. “Hey, what kind of secret code are you two using?”

Lin Yihong said, “Oh, she lost a bet and is going to wash my socks when we get home.”

Lin Yining: “As if!”

Who would wash his stinky socks!

After that, their homeroom teacher was no longer overly enthusiastic toward them, which was a relief for the twins.

…

Yu Xiang’an attended the opening ceremony of a chain hotel. The owner had started with chain hotels in Hong Kong and had now expanded the business to the Special Economic Zone.

The décor was quite lavish — gold and glitter everywhere — so much so that anyone with little money in their pocket might not even dare step inside.

The event was crowded; Yu Xiang’an had sent invitations to basically everyone notable in the area. She saw people like Keleite, Lu Anran, Yu Mansheng, and several other business associates. Many had come just to see something new.

Yu Xiang’an toured the dining area first, then went up to the guest rooms. The service was impeccable, and the facilities were top-notch — easily among the best at the time.

Yu Mansheng, who was also collaborating with her to build a hotel (still under construction), looked a bit shaken. “How much must this have cost?” Their own budget wasn’t anywhere near this level.

Yu Xiang’an said, “We’re going for a different type. Don’t compare with them.”

Different styles meant different target audiences.

Hotels earned part of their income from dining and part from lodging and services. In terms of dining, this one leaned heavily toward Western cuisine, with very little Chinese food — the opposite of their own plans.

Yu Mansheng nodded; that was true. And in terms of food, he believed their side had the advantage.

He was a typical Chinese-food person — Western food was fine occasionally, but three Western meals a day was impossible for him. These days, he mostly went to Western restaurants for appearances’ sake.

Chinese cuisine, on the other hand, was incredibly varied in types and flavors. Even domestically, there were the famous Eight Great Cuisines.

Talking about food made Yu Xiang’an think of the chefs she had hired. Although she was now the boss and often busy, she still occasionally sparred with them in the kitchen to keep her skills sharp.

Stagnation was dangerous.

By now, she had several excellent chefs on her team.

Keleite came over as well. “Yu, hotel investments aren’t bad.”

Hotels had an advantage: once they were built, most of the costs were fixed. As long as the location was good, the service acceptable, and the prices reasonable, they could simply sit back and collect money — a very steady investment.

Yu Xiang’an asked, “Keleite, what do you like to eat most?”

Keleite replied, “I’m an omnivore — I like anything tasty. Here, the desserts are quite good. I especially like their Black Forest cake. Have you tried it? I recommend you do.”

In this, they were indeed better than Yu Xiang’an.

She could make cakes, but compared with professional pastry chefs, she fell short. Against an average small shop, however, her cakes were better.

Similarly, the other side excelled at cakes, but when it came to Chinese dishes, they couldn’t compare to her.

Yu Xiang’an tried the cake and was won over by its soft texture. “Looks like you’ll be coming here often just for the cake.”

Keleite laughed. “Exactly. Don’t worry — when your hotel opens, I’ll be a regular there too. Just make sure to save me a discount card.”

“Of course…”

After leaving the hotel, Yu Xiang’an went back to the company’s R\&D department.

Most of their current products were still based on her own recipes accumulated over the years, but some came from flavors developed by the chefs she had hired.

When she arrived, the place was bustling.

She walked around and stopped by a man in his thirties who was working on sesame paste recipes. The big boss was standing nearby, and the man was visibly nervous, stammering a bit as he greeted her, “H-hello!”

Yu Xiang’an said, “Hello, everyone. Any difficulties?”

He shook his head. “No, everything’s going well. Any small issues will be solved quickly.”

Seeing how nervous he was, Yu Xiang’an nodded and didn’t say more, heading instead to the training department.

The training department was also a huge kitchen, but unlike the R\&D department, it wasn’t as secretive — there were far more people here. The senior chefs each had many apprentices.

These apprentices were the foundation of Wuwei Restaurant’s expansion.

To ensure the taste stayed consistent, training chefs was essential. Once the apprentices mastered the skills, they could be sent out to new branches, ensuring the flavor wouldn’t change much.

No matter where you went, you could taste the familiar Wuwei flavor.

Wang Xiaodong was eighteen this year and had been here for a year. He had hardly gone to school, only knowing how to write his name and count from one to twenty. But he knew a bit about cooking because his mother had died early, his father worked in the fields, and as the eldest, he had to help take care of his younger siblings — cooking for the family was his job.

In poor families, there was no strict division of labor between “men working outside” and “women keeping house” — whoever was needed had to step up. So, becoming an apprentice here was an easy transition for him.

He started out as a kitchen helper. That stage didn’t last long, and every month he got free food and lodging plus a small stipend of a few yuan.

It might not sound like much, but for his family, it was a big help.

If his younger brother weren’t still too young, he would have wanted to bring him here too.

Back home, he had also worked hard, but there was never enough to eat, never warm clothes, and never any money.

After three months of assisting, he gradually began learning how to handle ingredients and season dishes. The timeline wasn’t fixed — progress depended on each person’s ability. Those who learned faster could move on to cooking sooner.

Wang Xiaodong’s talent was average, but diligence made up for it, and he was now close to being able to handle a station on his own.

When he is sent to work at another location, his salary will no longer be the same as it is now.

Once he graduates from training, the pay scale depends on the branch he’s assigned to. The starting salary for a newly assigned chef is the lowest in the kitchen, but it still comes with a basic monthly wage of forty-five yuan, plus a performance bonus based on the net profit of the branch. If the net profit is high, the performance pay can be very generous.

One of his fellow villagers, who had arrived earlier and had talent, was assigned to a branch after just over six months of training — in Guangzhou. His base pay was forty-five yuan, and with a performance bonus of more than seventy yuan, he earned over a hundred yuan a month.

It made others green with envy.

In the past, he wouldn’t have even dared to dream about such a thing, but now he could. Even if he didn’t make over a hundred yuan a month, he figured he could still earn sixty, seventy, maybe eighty yuan. With that income, his father wouldn’t have to work so hard in the fields, and his younger siblings could go to school without having to wake up before dawn and toil away to help with the farm work.

Once the family’s circumstances improved, he planned to save up to buy a small house, marry a wife, and have children. Then life would be complete.

As Wang Xiaodong was daydreaming about his future, he looked up and saw his master talking to a woman. A closer look — wasn’t that their boss?

Then he saw the boss roll up her sleeves and start cooking alongside his master, moving with expert skill.

It was a remarkable sight.

He’d heard his master say before that she wasn’t a trained chef at all. She was a university student from the first batch after the reinstatement of the college entrance exam, and before that, she had been a factory worker. Yet somehow she had acquired culinary skills better than those of people who had been cooking since childhood — so good that no one even knew what to say.

He also understood that people like him, trained for only a year or so, were different from those who had learned from a young age.

They could master the restaurant’s set menu and execute it well, but their repertoire was fixed, and making further progress wouldn’t be easy.

Masters like his, on the other hand, had their own specialty dishes.

Yu Xiangan and the master each made a plate of Kung Pao chicken.

After finishing the dish, Yu Xiangan felt much better, then clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Is there any chef here who has experience with pastries, whether Chinese or Western? If so, please go to my assistant and fill out a form. If you have friends or acquaintances with such skills, we welcome recommendations. We are sincerely hiring, and you all know our pay — it won’t disappoint.”

Pastry was a weak spot in their offerings, and Yu Xiangan wanted to strengthen it.

…

Yu Xiangan’s business was expanding rapidly, visible to the naked eye. Lin Chuanbai was just as successful, though more low-key.

Few people knew the extent of it.

He had received another commendation.

Although young for a researcher, his age didn’t reflect his achievements. The projects he handled weren’t particularly difficult, but his speed was remarkable, and he had the good fortune to avoid many dead ends, quickly identifying the most promising lead.

That was talent.

What they didn’t know was that Lin Chuanbai often used Yu Xiangan’s golden-finger processing workshop to test experiments. Many were already complete products in that environment, which he then reverse-engineered into reality.

That, of course, made his success rate higher — he already knew which paths led to failure, so he never had to start completely from scratch.

His university advisor had even given him a gift: a notebook filled with notes from previous experiments, including ideas, thought processes, and later doubts during testing — a source of inspiration that benefited Lin Chuanbai greatly.

For now, Lin Chuanbai had no intention of starting his own business. Entering the pharmaceutical industry came with many restrictions, and he was looking for a struggling pharmaceutical factory in need of outside investment. That would make things easier.

A pharmaceutical plant wouldn’t come cheap, and most of his money currently came from Yu Xiangan’s earnings. His skincare products sold well, but only “well.” When people don’t yet have enough to eat and wear, beauty is always lower on the list of priorities.

He would have to wait a bit longer.

In the blink of an eye, winter break arrived.

Yu Qingshan had been looking forward to the children’s vacation.

Wen Ruzhen, a university teacher, also had winter break and brought her three children to visit.

Yu Xiangqing taught high school, so she didn’t stay long — she had to return to give extra lessons to her students. She dropped off her children for one night before leaving.

Soon after, Yu Xianghai’s twins arrived as well.

In their generation, Yu Mingjie was the oldest — already a university graduate with a fiancée, and soon to become a father. Next were his younger brother and sister, Yu Mingfeng and Yu Mingyao, a set of boy-girl twins nearly in high school.

After them came Yu Xiangyan’s eldest daughter, Yu Xiyi.

Among the four siblings who were already married with children, Yu Xiangqing’s son Yan Ming was the youngest, but even he was already twelve.

None of them were little kids anymore.

Everyone trusted leaving them with Yu Qingshan.

Before, they had just stayed in rooms as they were. But now that everyone was together, Yu Qingshan asked, “Do you feel the rooms are too plain? How would you like to decorate your own rooms? Would that make you happy?”

The house had tiled floors, plain white walls, and not much decoration. The beds and wardrobes were all custom-made in matching styles, not identical but from the same series.

It had been Yu Xiangan’s idea from the start — to keep things simple at first, then, once everyone was together, let the kids take charge and decorate their own rooms. That way they’d have something to talk about and bond over.

Yu Qingshan agreed. Seeing their faces light up with excitement, he smiled. “See those three big boxes? They’re full of things you might use. Open them up. If you think of anything else you want, write it down in the notebook on top.”

The half-grown boys and girls were thrilled, including Lin Yihong and Lin Yining.

They hadn’t expected their parents to let them decorate however they liked. Now, everyone was happily opening boxes to see what was inside.

“How are you going to arrange your bed?”

“I like the pattern on this duvet cover.”

“This little chest is great — so many uses.”

“These pillows are so cute, I want them.”

Any awkwardness quickly faded amid this chatter.

The adults could also see hints of each child’s personality in their decorating choices.

The twins were least familiar with Yan Ming. They were only a year apart in age, but when they were little, they couldn’t remember much. Once they could, each had followed their parents away to university, returning only occasionally. When they did meet, there were so many people around that they barely had time to play before parting again.

Yan Ming wasn’t particularly shy, and decorating alongside boys his own age, he quickly warmed up to them.

When they were done, Yu Xiangan came to take a look.

Yu Mingfeng’s room was mostly blue, with a sports star’s poster and a basketball on the desk — he loved basketball.

Yu Mingyao’s room was fresh green, surrounded by the color. She had arranged a row of plush toys at the head of her bed and placed a cloth doll beside her pillow.

Yu Xiyi’s room was filled with plants — pothos, winter jasmine, cacti, and potted oranges. She’d also hung a piece of calligraphy on the wall. She’d been practicing calligraphy for years and loved it.

Her younger brother, Yu Xiling, had made his room black-themed.

The wallpaper on the wall was a black-and-white checkerboard pattern, and on his desk sat a figurine of a soaring eagle.

Next was Yu Xiyi’s little sister, Yu Xiyuan. Her room was a soft pink, filled with many pink-toned little rabbits.

One glance was enough to see just how much the room’s owner loved rabbits.

Then came Lin Yihong’s room—blue like the ocean, with a poster of a whale.

Lin Yining’s room was plastered with photos of celebrities, both male and female, all sharing the common trait of being very good-looking.

Lastly, Yan Ming’s room had very few changes, except for an added hanging rack where he placed his favorite wind chime.

Seeing this, Yu Xiang’an understood and handed them a class schedule to choose from.

The classes were very relaxed since they were interest-based, with no strict requirements. In the mornings, they would spend an hour or two listening to teachers share stories of strange happenings around the world or offer interest expansion classes like music or painting. Afternoons were for physical education—teachers would lead them in basketball or soccer.

The rest of the time was free, and since the space was large, the basketball court could be made simply by leveling the flat ground in front. Few boys could resist the charm of basketball.

Aside from basketball class, a lot of their free time also went into playing basketball. The girls’ hobbies were different from the boys’, so Yu Xiang’an bought them an entire set of dolls, and they became obsessed with making clothes for them.

Yu Xiyi had an exceptional talent—her handmade doll clothes were the most beautiful.

Lin Yining wasn’t as skilled—her clothes came out crooked—but she enjoyed herself nonetheless.

Wen Ruzhen also spent her time there happily. She stayed in the same place, liked going out to see how the area was changing, visiting the university in Yangcheng, and seeing her father. Her days were full.

Yu Xiangyan, returning to an empty home after a busy day, thought: “…”

This was far too lonely!

With these children around, it felt like time just slipped away if you didn’t pay attention.

Yan Ming felt like he had experienced so much.

When his mother sent him to his grandfather’s, he had been nervous—worried that if he stayed too long, his grandfather might dislike him, or that he wouldn’t adapt. But it turned out he had overthought it.

He had no trouble adapting at all. He had brought clothes with him, but when he opened the wardrobe, it was already filled with clothes in his size.

He got to decorate his room however he wanted, with complete freedom, and no one came to interfere.

For three meals a day, his grandfather would take them out for breakfast, offering a huge variety: congee, rice noodles, wheat noodles, steamed buns, dumplings, pancakes, soy milk, fried dough sticks, and milk. They could have whatever they wanted.

Lunch was delivered to them. They didn’t need to order, but they also didn’t have to worry about not liking the food because the variety was huge, with small portions so they could taste everything—this a little, that a little—until they were full. He got to try many foods he’d never eaten before.

At home, his parents both worked. Their family wasn’t large, and while their income was decent, his parents weren’t particular about food—having meat and rice was already good enough. But here, the variety was far richer.

They had dishes made from things that flew in the sky, swam in the water, and ran on land—each could be cooked into eighteen different styles, dazzling to the eye. Being near the sea meant he also got to eat lots of seafood.

What surprised him most was one time when he was served an enormous crab—so big it was the size of his face!

Though the meat inside wasn’t much, it was still astonishing.

The taste wasn’t the main point, nor was the portion—the key was that he had eaten such a huge crab!

Yan Ming was already thinking about how he’d tell his friends back home about his experiences here.

He had played basketball before, but back then, courts were scarce, and they were too young to compete with older kids. Here, there was no competition—they had their own basketball court, plus a teacher to coach them, so Yan Ming felt his skills had greatly improved.

And being with so many cousins meant he always had company—never lonely.

He also took up painting, and the teacher told him the eagle he drew had spirit. He was thrilled—he loved eagles the most.

As the New Year approached, he called his mother. She asked, “It’s almost New Year’s. How about I come get you and bring you home?”

Yan Ming hesitated. “…Mom, didn’t we say I’d spend New Year here at Grandpa’s?” He didn’t want to leave at all. If he missed his parents, he could call and hear their voices. Life here was more exciting, and he’d see his parents after the school term started anyway—he wanted to stay.

On the other end, Yu Xiangqing, who had only been joking about picking him up, was left speechless by her son’s polite refusal.

This kid had switched sides way too fast! Before leaving, he’d reminded her to come get him early—now he didn’t even want to go home.

“Alright then. Sounds like you’re having a great time. Dad and I plan to leave tomorrow so we can spend New Year at your grandpa’s.”

“That’s great!” Yan Ming cheered.

Then he remembered, “Will Grandpa and Grandma agree?”

“They will,” Yu Xiangqing said. “Dad and I rarely spend New Year at your grandpa’s. It’s a rare trip—why wouldn’t they agree?”

That was a relief.

“Mom, come early. Auntie said that once everyone’s here, we’ll take a family portrait at the beach. The photos turn out great! I saw the ones Yihong took before—he wore a knight costume. I want to wear one too…”

Yu Xiang’an happened to walk in and caught the tail end of this. She waved her hand, “A knight costume? Do it! And not just that—we’ll also get you a prince costume. Want to take some photos in that too?”

On the other end, Yu Xiangqing was silent.

This aunt really spoiled kids—anything they wanted, they got.

Yu Xiang’an took the phone. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it reasonable. Be careful on your way here. I’ll have someone pick you up. It’s rare to have everyone together this year.”

“When is Second Brother coming back?” Yu Xiangqing asked.

“He’s already on the way,” Yu Xiang’an said.

“And our youngest brother?”

“His ticket is for two days after yours…”

Meanwhile, back in Baishi County, Zhao Qiaoniang and Ding Minxiu had returned.

They had been waiting for a long time, but as the New Year approached, not only did Yu Xiangju not return, no one from the Yu family came back either.

Ding Minxiu’s expression darkened.

Where had they all gone?

After asking around, they finally learned the whole family was spending New Year in the Special Economic Zone this year and wouldn’t be coming back.

Ding Minxiu frowned deeply.

The Special Economic Zone was huge—how could they possibly find them there?

Her grandson had been born, but because her daughter-in-law had too many issues during pregnancy, the baby wasn’t born healthy. The family’s newly saved money had mostly gone to hospital bills.

This year, Zhao Qiaoniang had fallen ill twice, and the money she earned went toward medical expenses. When she privately asked the doctor, he told her that her health had been too weak for years—at her age, this was normal, but she needed to take good care of herself.

Otherwise, such illnesses would keep happening.

At that moment, Ding Minxiu decided she had to track down Yu Xiangju.

After all, she had raised him—shouldn’t he be responsible for covering part of the medical costs?

Even if she was born to Zhao Qiaoniang, she was a daughter. Support for the elderly was the son’s responsibility.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃