Author Archives: Thingyan

Ch 100: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Ye Qijia had been feeling a bit smug, since she had made a lot of money selling clothes and working as an agent, but now she was back down to earth.

Her son’s wedding was held once in Baishi County, inviting all the childhood friends and relatives they were close to. They also held another wedding banquet in Yangcheng, mainly for the bride’s relatives. The bride’s side didn’t have that many people, and the scale wasn’t as big as in their hometown, but it was held in a prestigious restaurant there, so it was still quite good. She even furnished the couple’s new home with a complete set of appliances—television, refrigerator, electric fan, washing machine, tape recorder, and so on—buying all that was no strain on her finances. Most families would be anxious about such a big occasion.

She wasn’t.

But recently, a new commercial housing development had opened in Yangcheng, and her brother-in-law Lin Chuanbai bought an apartment there.

The first and second floors were connected, with plenty of rooms, a spacious layout, a small garden, and it was already renovated. At 1,800 yuan per square meter, it cost more than 200,000 yuan in total!

The self-satisfied Ye Qijia suddenly became very grounded, realizing she was still just an ordinary person. She went to look at the 130-plus square meter apartment and indeed found it very nice—she was tempted.

The location was close to several famous schools and not far from a hospital. She thought it would be perfect—when her grandchildren were born, it would be very convenient for them to attend school here.

Not long after buying it, Lin Chuanbai moved in. Their old place was fine for just themselves, but cramped when guests visited. The new place felt spacious.

Yu Xianghai knew Ye Qijia was tempted to buy a place there, and when he asked about the price, he fell silent. It was no small sum. In Baishi County, they could buy land and build a house for far less, but the schools there… were indeed enticing.

During winter break, Mingfeng and Mingyao had gone to their aunt’s place for a whole winter’s worth of extracurricular classes. When the two of them talked now, they sometimes used words their parents couldn’t understand. These were rare experiences in their small county—exposure that only came from a broader, more developed environment.

Yu Xianghai thought it over and finally gritted his teeth in agreement.

But they would have to wait until the current batch of treasury bonds was sold off. Right now, he was buying bonds from the factory and selling them in higher-priced areas. Once this wave was finished, they’d have more cash on hand.

When the bonds were sold, Yu Xianghai and Ye Qijia bought two adjoining units—one for each of their sons in the future.

Meng Yuhong was shocked when she saw the place.

Was her husband’s family really this wealthy? They could afford such an expensive apartment—and bought two at once!

She and her husband together made less than 200 yuan a month. At 1,800 yuan per square meter, it would take them who knows how many years to buy one.

Meanwhile, Yu Xiangqing and her husband were secretly borrowing money from relatives and friends to flip for a profit.

They kept it quiet. They claimed they were just doing someone a favor when buying. Yu Xiangqing didn’t borrow from her own siblings, and Yan Peng didn’t borrow from his parents or brothers—if they borrowed from everyone and something went wrong, they wouldn’t be able to survive.

Even so, they had borrowed quite a bit, but just enough to keep under control.

The more they earned, the stronger their capital became, and the greater the profits they could make.

For the sake of this lucrative business, Yan Peng threw himself into his work with renewed energy. He loved going on business trips—if someone didn’t want to go, he’d volunteer.

Yu Xiangan also bought at low prices. She had plenty of cash, and when her subordinates went to exchange bonds at the bank, the manager would personally come out to handle it. Even though the transactions were split into smaller lots of several tens of thousands, in that economic climate the amounts were still eye-catching.

The profit came from the timing gap, and it was time-limited. Once prices evened out, there’d be no money to make.

But as long as they acted in time, the profits were substantial.

Yu Xiangan had large cash inflows not just from sales but also from her expanding Five Flavors Restaurant, which alone brought her tens of thousands in income every day.

After Lin Yining was given her red envelope money to manage herself, her spending grew. She happily bought things she liked—celebrity posters, merchandise, pretty clothes, and jewelry. None of it was very expensive individually, but she bought so much that she lost track. Within a few months, all the money was gone.

Lin Yihong was the opposite—he didn’t want much, so he saved his money and spent just as before.

When Lin Yining realized she was out of money, she noticed her parents hadn’t given her pocket money. She went to Lin Chuanbai, who was surprised. “I already gave you your pocket money.”

“When?” she asked, puzzled. “I never got it.”

“Your New Year’s money is your pocket money for the year—I gave it to you all at once,” he said.

She was dumbfounded. “Dad, you never said that before!”

Looking innocent, Lin Chuanbai replied, “I didn’t tell you? Maybe I forgot. But think about it—if we gave you more on top of that, imagine how much you’d be spending.”

This was intentional. They wanted to teach their children financial management. In primary school, they’d given very little and kept a tight rein. Now that the kids were older in middle school, they should start learning to budget—so they tried this approach.

Their son was unchanged, with little desire to spend. Their daughter, however, had burned through almost a thousand yuan in just a few months—a sum equal to more than a year’s wages for an ordinary worker.

“Where did it all go?” Lin Chuanbai asked.

Thinking of the many new things in her room, she was speechless. Finally, she frowned miserably. “So what do I do now?”

“How did you get by before when your pocket money ran out?” he asked.

How? By waiting until the next month’s allowance.

But now she’d have to wait more than half a year!

She pouted pitifully. “Dad, I just want to buy some stickers—they’re only a few cents.”

“But your pocket money is already gone,” he said.

“Dad~” she whined, dragging out the word.

He picked up the newspaper and focused on reading. “Not having pocket money won’t affect your daily life. If you really want something, think of another way.”

Their school meals were prepaid, clothes were taken care of, and notebooks and pens were stocked at home. Many families couldn’t afford to give pocket money at all, and life still went on.

No matter how much she pleaded, Lin Chuanbai didn’t budge. Lin Yining gave up and went to find Lin Yihong.

He laughed heartily. “Ha! That’s what you get for spending so happily.”

She scowled. “I’ll definitely save some next time.”

The feeling of having not a single coin wasn’t something she wanted to experience again.

“Good,” he said smugly.

“Brother… I don’t have money now. You still have some, right?” she asked.

He pulled out a five-yuan note. “Going completely broke isn’t good. I’ll lend you this—you pay me back next year.”

Having even a little was better than nothing—if someone treated her, she wouldn’t look bad. And five yuan could last quite a while.

Lin Yihong emphasized, “Don’t keep borrowing money from me. My money doesn’t grow on trees.” He intended to save it for a purpose.

Lin Yining quietly accepted the five yuan.

Five yuan was indeed a lot; just one cent could buy a popsicle. But having once had so much money to spend freely, and now having none, she clutched her chest and felt regret all over again.

Why hadn’t she thought about the future when she was spending before?

Seeing his sister looking so dejected, Lin Yihong didn’t say more and went to find Lin Chuanbai. “Dad, are you really not going to give my sister some pocket money?”

Lin Chuanbai said, “You know how she’s been spending without restraint lately. She needs to reflect. Don’t help her — you can help for a while, but you can’t help her for a lifetime.”
He had been paying attention to Lin Yining’s spending. He knew roughly how much she had gone through but hadn’t stepped in to interfere. After all, while this money would be a lot for an average family, it wasn’t much for theirs.
If it could teach her to think and learn financial management, then so be it.

Lin Chuanbai looked at Lin Yihong. “Aren’t you planning to do something with your money?”

Lin Yihong shook his head. “I’ll just save for now.”
For a student, it was a sizable sum, but in reality, it wasn’t enough to buy anything particularly expensive.

Altogether, he had already saved up one thousand yuan — a fortune among students. But for adults, it wouldn’t be too hard for a household to put that together.

Lin Yihong thought aloud, “Dad, if I wanted to make money, what could I do with this amount?”

Lin Chuanbai straightened up. “You want to make money? Why?”

He put down his newspaper. “Have you thought about what you want to do in the future? Making money — I don’t object. If you can earn, it means you at least have the basic means to support yourself. But at your age, studying is the most important thing.”

Lin Yihong looked at him seriously. “Dad, can I do anything I want in the future?”

Lin Chuanbai replied, “As long as it’s not immoral or harmful, I won’t interfere. Your mother and I have built up enough for you both to have the capital for freedom. But you also need to understand that even if we earned a fortune, if you don’t have the ability to keep it, by the next generation it might be gone.”

Lin Yihong still hadn’t decided what he wanted to do, so he stayed silent.

Lin Chuanbai continued, “As long as the industry you choose is legitimate, and you don’t just laze around at home, anything else is fine. If you haven’t decided yet, don’t rush — you’re still in junior high. You can decide by the time you take the college entrance exam. Of course, if you decide earlier, you can prepare ahead of time and avoid detours.”

He had considered what paths his two children might take. They both spent summers training with the army; their performance wasn’t outstanding, but it wasn’t bad either. In terms of both physical fitness and academics, the twins were above average. As long as they didn’t go astray, he wasn’t worried.

“Do you want to join the army?” Lin Chuanbai asked.

Lin Yihong took a deep breath. “I don’t mind the army, but I don’t like being in that kind of environment all the time.”

“How about joining the civil service like your grandfather and uncle, going into business like your mother, or doing research at a school like me? You have plenty of time to think.”

Lin Yihong nodded. “I’ll think about it carefully, Dad.”

Lin Chuanbai smiled. “Alright, go on.”

Between the twins, Lin Yining was the more lively and outgoing, but when it came to maturity and thoughtfulness, it was her brother.

After learning her lesson, Lin Yining spent her five yuan much more carefully. She even exchanged it for smaller change, setting a limit on how much she could spend in a month, trying her best to stretch it as long as possible.

The feeling of having no money — restricted and uncomfortable — meant that when she went with classmates to buy drinks or ice cream, she now calculated her spending.

After comparing options, she thought of a good way to save money: acting cute with her mother to get her to make homemade ice cream.

Her mother’s ice cream tasted even better than store-bought and cost nothing.

That way, she could save a little.

Yu Qingshan later found out about this, but because of Yu Xiang’an’s words, he didn’t give Lin Yining any more pocket money either. He agreed that Lin Yining was careless with money and needed to be taught.

In the past, her monthly allowance wasn’t much, so spending it all wasn’t a big deal. But now, she had gone through a large sum — thankfully without wasting it on anything improper.

Lin Houpǔ called Lin Chuanbai’s office, asking him to go check on someone. An old subordinate had come to see him, and in the course of reminiscing, he learned that one of his former soldiers had been living badly since leaving the service.

After returning home, the man farmed in his hometown. Now, because of issues with his son’s bride price and housing, he had approached that old subordinate for help. Lin Houpǔ remembered this soldier well — he had never once asked for help in all these years — so he was a bit angry and asked Lin Chuanbai to check on him.

If there was any way to help, he should.

After getting the call, Lin Chuanbai followed the address given.

It wasn’t far away, and when the twins heard where he was going, they both tagged along. Lin Chuanbai drove — about two hours’ trip.

Shangliu Village.

At the Tian family home, Tian Mao’s mother, Sun Guihua, was crying loudly in the yard, smacking her second son on the back. “You’re drinking our blood and eating our flesh, just to marry a wife!”

Her second son, Tian Mao, just let her hit him. He squatted there holding his head, staying silent no matter how much she hit or scolded him, his eyes full of confusion.

His newly married sister-in-law leaned against the doorway, watching the drama with relish.

Tian Mao closed his eyes in pain. Had he done something wrong?

He just wanted to marry Li Liu-jin, no one else.

Sun Guihua hit harder. “Why won’t you say anything? Speak! Do you want to drive me to my grave?”

Tian Mao couldn’t help asking, “Why could big brother spend so much to marry sister-in-law, but I can’t?”

Sun Guihua froze for a moment, then wailed even louder.

His sister-in-law gave a mocking laugh. “That’s simple. Your brother’s the eldest son. If the elder brother doesn’t get married, how can the younger marry first? And the parents will live with us in the future. Given your brother’s situation, only I was willing to take him, and my family’s conditions are decent. Most of the bride price your family gave, I brought back. But that Liu-jin you like is different — her family had six daughters before a son. Her older sisters all want to marry well, as if each were a gold mine. If you give her family this money, you won’t get it back.”

Sun Guihua pleaded, “Son, give up on this. There are plenty of girls your age. Why insist on her? The family really can’t afford it. Besides you, there are two younger brothers — your father and I don’t have that much money…”

The noise drew the neighbors, who clustered at the gate to watch.

Seeing Sun Guihua so distressed, they began to chime in. “Tian Mao, you’re not young. Be considerate to your parents. That girl’s asking for three hundred yuan in bride price, plus a bicycle and a television. Even city folks can’t always manage that. And clearly, that’s her family preparing for her brother’s marriage — you won’t get it back. What’s the point? That’s over a thousand yuan in total.”

Who could afford that?

Tian Mao just stayed squatting, saying nothing, stubborn and unwilling to change his mind.

Someone kept trying to persuade him. “Your family just married your elder sister-in-law and built houses for you brothers. Where would you get so much money? With a new house like that, you’re not going to have trouble finding a good match. You’re putting pressure on your parents—you really can’t be so thoughtless.”

Tian Mao still said nothing, so someone changed tack. “Tian’s wife, why not bring out the bicycle you prepared for your eldest? Then you’d only have to get a television, and you could negotiate the bride price later.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a bicycle at home.”

But his sister-in-law wasn’t having it. She put her hands on her hips. “Hey, that’s mine! Who takes something from a sister-in-law’s dowry to marry off a younger brother-in-law? Have you no shame?”

One neighbor shot back, “That bicycle came out of the Tian family’s pocket.”

The sister-in-law snorted. “Do you know what a bride price is? The bride price is for the bride’s side of the family—how could you take it back? And don’t think just because I’ve married in that you can dispose of my things at will. I’m telling you, if you really try that, you can find yourselves another wife for him!” She flung the door shut.

Seeing that reaction, Sun Guihua let out another wail. “Why is my life so bitter?”

Voices rose around her. “Isn’t Second Tian a soldier? Doesn’t he have comrades? This house and that bicycle you have now came from a comrade’s help—have him ask again.”

Someone else argued back. “A second time? There are two younger sons yet—do you expect him to ask his comrades every time? Their money doesn’t grow on trees.”

“That’s right, a comrade doesn’t owe him anything. You can only eat from as big a bowl as you can hold. The Li family’s ‘golden flower’ isn’t so easy to marry.”

“The sixth golden flower is prettier than her sisters and closest in age to her younger brother. Her father isn’t about to give her up without squeezing for everything.”

“She’s good-looking and capable—just wasn’t born to a good father.”

“What a pity.”

No matter what was said or how loud the fuss got in the courtyard, the burly man sitting by the window inside sat like a carved stone, motionless.

He knew they wanted him to come out and take responsibility, but what could he do? Go ask a comrade again? He didn’t have the face for that.

If the second insisted on marrying her, there was nothing for it—the Tian family couldn’t afford Li Liu-jin. If he wanted to stay single, then so be it.

Just then there was a cry of surprise outside. The sound was different, and he went out to see. People had surged toward the gate. At the gate was a crowd—adults and children—and more and more were gathering.

Because there was a four-wheeled automobile.

Who in the village knew such a big shot who drove a car? Around here, cars were rare, only occasionally passing through.

Now one was stopped right here. Who had it come for? Second Tian?

The children were curious, but none dared touch it. The adults had warned them—this was worth more than they could ever repay, even if they sold themselves.

Then the car door opened. There were people in the driver’s seat and the back—three in all: a young man driving, and in back a boy and a girl in their early teens.

The young man smiled at the gathered crowd. “Uncles, aunties—this is the home of Tian Erzhuang, right?”

Sun Guihua wiped her face and nodded quickly. “Yes, yes, this is Tian Erzhuang’s home, you are…?”

Just then Tian Erzhuang came out. “I’m Tian Erzhuang.”

Lin Chuanbai extended his hand. “Uncle Tian, hello. My father also came out of the army. He heard something about you, and since I’m not far from here, I’ve taken the liberty of calling unannounced. I hope I’m not intruding.”

Sun Guihua was flustered. “N-no, not at all.”

“Come in, come in,” Tian Erzhuang said.

Lin Chuanbai opened the trunk and took things out. Lin Yihong and Lin Yining followed to help.

Seeing that, Tian Erzhuang waved his hands. “No, no, take those back.”

Lin Chuanbai smiled. “One doesn’t come empty-handed. It’s just some fruit.”

Sun Guihua’s face lifted into an involuntary smile at the sight.

Plenty of onlookers wanted to know who this was and what their relationship to Tian Erzhuang was, but the car cowed them, and they didn’t have the nerve to follow in.

So Tian Erzhuang shut the gate.

Inside, Lin Chuanbai took in the courtyard—big, fenced in with their vegetable plots. The house was a single-story with four or five rooms, not big but plenty.

It was new, and remembering Lin Houpu’s words, it was likely the house had been built with borrowed money as a wedding house for his son.

He wouldn’t have had to borrow from a comrade, but first his parents fell seriously ill, then his elder son fell from a mountain while collecting herbs, leaving him with a limp. The bride’s family had agreed not to break off the match, but had raised the bride price. Under those circumstances, Tian Erzhuang had no choice but to go to his comrades.

Inside, the house was new, but sparsely furnished. What was there was old and mismatched.

The central room doubled as living and dining room. Hearing movement, everyone at home came out: the elder son and daughter-in-law, the second son coming in from the yard, the two younger sons who’d been hiding in their room, and the youngest daughter. All of them stared curiously at these three visitors who were obviously not from around here.

Sun Guihua poured tea, a bit ill at ease. “This is flower tea I dried myself last year—it’s quite nice, try it.” They didn’t buy tea leaves if they could help it.

All three accepted the cups with both hands and took a sip.

Only then did Tian Erzhuang ask, “Your father is…?”

“My father is Lin Houpu.”

Tian Erzhuang almost blurted out “Old—” before catching himself. He swallowed. “How did your father know? Was it Old Qi?”

Lin Chuanbai nodded. “My father was a bit angry—if Uncle Qi hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t have known. He asked why you never told him. He said he still remembers what he told you when you retired from the army. He asked me to pass on a message: have you forgotten him?”

Tian Erzhuang gave a wry smile. “How could I? Is your father well?”

“He’s well. Uncle Qi came by, and since I’m closer, he asked me to come see how you’re doing. My father also said if you need help, don’t stand on ceremony.”

Tian Erzhuang smiled at once. “I’m fine. Everything at home is fine.”

Sun Guihua tugged at his sleeve. Fine? In debt and unable to marry off their second son?

Tian Erzhuang shot her a warning look. She stopped fidgeting.

Lin Chuanbai noticed. “Uncle Tian, are you farming the land you were allocated?”

“That’s right.”

“I heard from my father that back in the army you were very brave—the first to rush forward in any difficulty.”

Tian Erzhuang gave a modest smile. “I’ve only got strength in my arms.”

As he reminisced about life in the army, he smiled more and more, his eyes almost glowing. Now he looked like any other farmer, but the straight line of his back still bore the stamp of his service.

Lin Chuanbai sighed inwardly. What Tian Erzhuang needed now was a job that brought in cash. Working the fields kept food on the table and clothes on their backs, but it didn’t make it easy to reach for more.

It wasn’t that one couldn’t make a living from the fields, but those ventures also required investment and time.

Lin Chuanbai felt a twinge of regret. The fact that Lin Houpu still remembered this man meant that his performance back then must have been outstanding. But after being discharged, the skills he had learned had no place to be put to use, and now he simply toiled in the fields, facing the dirt with his back to the sky.

What a pity.

“Uncle Tian, would it be convenient for the two of us to talk in private?”

Tian Erzhuang led him to the back of the house.

Lin Chuanbai said, “Uncle Tian, my father says he still remembers what you told him when you were discharged—that if you had any difficulties, you should reach out to everyone. You spoke with Uncle Qi and the others before, so why suddenly forget him? You all went through life-and-death together. If you hit a rough patch but didn’t contact him, is it because he did something wrong?”

Tian Erzhuang lowered his head in dejection. “It’s not that. I just felt embarrassed to trouble the old regimental commander over such small matters at home. It’s my own uselessness—I can’t even manage the affairs of my own family properly.”

Lin Chuanbai sighed inwardly. “Uncle Tian, I wonder if you’d be willing to help me with something.”

Tian Erzhuang’s eyes lit up. “What is it?” If it was within his ability, he would definitely help.

Lin Chuanbai said, “I have a shipment I plan to send to Hong Kong, but things over there aren’t very stable. From time to time there are people blocking roads and robbing travelers. My father told me you once won second place in a hand-to-hand combat competition. I’d like to ask you to help keep things under control.”

In other words, security. Lin Chuanbai had already discussed it with Yu Xiangan—they thought they could set up a company like this staffed by professional veterans. If there wasn’t enough start-up capital, they could invest themselves. That way, there would be another way for these veterans to make a living, and clients in need of such services would have a reliable choice.

For example, their own “Meiyan” business did well in Hong Kong, but since the region hadn’t yet returned, while it was certainly prosperous, many areas still hid much darkness. A moment’s carelessness could lead to heavy losses.

Tian Erzhuang’s expression eased, and he smiled with confidence. “That’s no problem. I haven’t had a proper fight in years, but my skills haven’t deteriorated much. Dealing with a few petty thugs won’t be an issue.”

Lin Chuanbai looked relieved and grateful. “That’s wonderful. The people I’d found before were too busy, and we were short-staffed. If you’re willing to make the trip for me, it would be a great help. I’ll cover all food, lodging, and travel expenses, and you’ll be paid the same as the others. Uncle Tian, don’t be in a hurry to refuse—this is the going rate. If you turn it down, I’ll have to ask someone else, and I might not be able to trust them as much. The last people I hired were actually colluding with local gangs over there, and we almost lost the shipment.”

At that, Tian Erzhuang could no longer refuse.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃

Ch 99: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Zhao Qiaoniang had no idea what Ding Minxiu was currently thinking. She, too, had been keeping track of Yu Xiangju’s movements, intending to ask him for some money to make her own life a little easier.

This New Year, she didn’t even have the money to give her grandchildren red envelopes.

Since she hadn’t been able to find him, there was nothing she could do for now. As for her daughter’s suggestion to go to the Special Zone to look for him later, Zhao Qiaoniang felt it was not feasible. Even putting aside how big the Special Zone was, even if they did happen to find him there once, it didn’t mean they could always find him there in the future.

One thing was certain: Yu Xiangju was not working in the Special Zone anymore. He had been transferred — to another province.

And even if they went, it wouldn’t just be to see Yu Xiangju. The entire Yu family was there. Looking for Yu Xiangju alone was one thing, but with so many people, the two of them would definitely get nothing good out of it.

Zhao Qiaoniang didn’t know what Ding Minxiu was really planning, and Yu Xiangju was even less aware.

After his transfer, those troublesome matters disappeared. The oppressive weight he had been under was gone, and all he needed to do now was focus on his work.

With more work experience, he had grown noticeably more steady.

When Yu Xiangyan saw him, he patted him on the shoulder. “Looks like you’ve grown up. Do you have a girl you like? If you do, you should seize the opportunity.”

Yu Xiangju looked a little embarrassed. “Not yet.” He wasn’t in a hurry. His colleagues, on the other hand, were quite enthusiastic about this. For someone like him, a fresh university graduate and highly sought after, there were plenty of people in the workplace eager to introduce their daughters, nieces, or cousins to him.

But he wasn’t ready to start a family yet. He wanted to adapt for another year or two and then think about it.

He didn’t feel mature enough. He hadn’t even resolved matters with Zhao Qiaoniang yet — once in a relationship, and especially with children, the responsibilities would be heavier. He wasn’t confident he could manage it all.

Yu Xiangyan asked, “Any difficulties at work? If you run into any problems, don’t hide them. We may not have perfect solutions, but three heads are better than one. We might give you some ideas.”

Yu Xianghai nodded in agreement. “Right. We’re older than you and started working earlier. If you run into trouble, don’t shoulder it alone.”

Yu Xiangju smiled, eyes crinkling. “I know. Everyone at work has been great to me.” His eyes had the warmth of sincerity — it didn’t look like an act.

Ye Qijia chimed in, “If you haven’t run into problems yet, you should still start looking for someone soon. Don’t wait too long. The years slip by, and youth doesn’t last forever.”

Yu Xiangju felt a bit awkward — it sounded like something people said to unmarried women.

Yu Xianghai asked, “Any chance you could transfer closer to home?”

Yu Xiangqing perked up at that; she was more concerned about it than anything else. Her youngest brother was alone out there without any relatives nearby — too lonely.

Yu Xiangju shook his head. “I haven’t been there long. It won’t happen so soon.”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be closer to home, but proximity would bring trouble. If Zhao Qiaoniang and Ding Minxiu came to cause a scene, he’d be at a disadvantage. They could be shameless without consequence, but as a public servant, such disturbances were risky.

If he didn’t handle it properly, it would hurt his reputation — and not just his, but potentially others’ as well.

He didn’t want to drag anyone down.

When his father and Zhao Qiaoniang separated, he was old enough to remember. Back then, Zhao Qiaoniang had genuinely treated him well — giving him the best food, sneaking him bites of meat when she cooked. If he fell ill, she stayed by his side.

Later, that affection faded, but it had once existed, and he couldn’t erase it completely.

He knew she’d hoped to rely on him for her old age, but at least she had never harmed him.

The Yu family owed her nothing — in fact, she owed them, especially his fifth sister — but personally, he had been cared for by her.

If Ding Minxiu refused to support her in the future, he couldn’t just stand by. His conscience wouldn’t allow it.

From what he knew of Ding Minxiu, if Zhao Qiaoniang lost the ability to work, it was unlikely she’d be properly cared for. Some heartless people even abandoned their elderly relatives to beg on the streets — he suspected the reality might not be much better.

Ding Minxiu was selfish — her affair with Zhou Boyang had already proven her shamelessness. She was also smooth-tongued, which was why Zhao Qiaoniang’s heart had gradually shifted to her, even taking things from Fifth Sister to give to her grandson.

Of course, Zhao Qiaoniang herself was to blame as well.

Perhaps it was because that grandson was male — she had a fixation on sons. She had no son of her own, but her daughter did.

Over time, her affection shifted to him.

Now, as she grew older and approached the loss of her earning ability, Yu Xiangju felt certain Ding Minxiu would try to make him bear some responsibility.

He couldn’t return home.

If he did, the gossip would start again, and he didn’t want to drag his family — especially his fifth sister, who had suffered the most — into it.

Staying far away, where they couldn’t find him, was best. If necessary, he could just send some money.

Yu Xiangan had nearly forgotten about those two people. When Yu Xiangqing brought it up, she remembered why Yu Xiangju had gone elsewhere in the first place. She frowned; she had no desire to get involved. Yu Xiangju might be soft-hearted, but he still had his boundaries. She changed the subject. “When is Mingjie’s wedding going to be set?”

At that, Yu Xianghai and Ye Qijia perked up. “I had someone check the calendar — the sixteenth day of the first lunar month is a good date. It’s a bit rushed, though. The next options are in March or June. We’re leaning toward the first lunar month, since preparations are basically done.”

Yu Mingjie disagreed. “That’s too soon — we didn’t agree on that beforehand.” Less than a month away felt too close.

Ye Qijia wasn’t discouraged. “Then pick a date and we’ll have both families meet. We can’t delay this too long.” She was leaning toward the March date.

“Both families meeting? Sure. I’ll ask Yuhong and set it up.” Yu Mingjie was eager to move forward, so he quickly made the call and came back with, “How about the sixth day of the first month? We can meet in Yangcheng, have a meal, and talk through the details.” He grinned.

Yu Xianghai laughed. “Sixth day it is! We’ll be there.”

Yu Qingshan smiled too. The younger generation was starting families, and soon there would be another generation — great-grandchildren — making them four generations under one roof. If he lived long enough, maybe even five.

Yu Xiangan, also in good spirits, asked, “Has the bride’s family made any requests? Bride price, dowry, anything like that?”

Yu Mingjie looked a bit shy. “The power plant has already allocated us a place to live. When we combine resources, we can trade up for a three-bedroom. As for buying furniture, my salary will be enough.”

Hearing this, Ye Qijia waved her hand grandly. “Don’t worry about other things like televisions or tape recorders — you’ve got me and your father.” She felt well-off and confident; these were no problem at all.

Everything that should be there would naturally be there. With money in hand now, their son’s wedding was a big event that needed to be done perfectly.

Yu Xiangqing asked, “Mingjie, you’ve met Yuhong’s parents — what are they like? Are they easy to get along with?”

Scratching the back of his head and grinning widely, Yu Mingjie replied, “Auntie, they’re easy to get along with. They didn’t make any demands, just told me to treat her well in the future.”

“That’s as it should be,” Ye Qijia said. “If you do anything wrong, never mind your in-laws — even we won’t sit back and ignore it.”

…

On New Year’s Eve, they didn’t eat out or hire help. Everyone cooked together.

One person made one or two signature dishes, another did the same, and even the half-grown kids weren’t idle — they all helped wrap dumplings.

There wasn’t a custom of eating dumplings here for the New Year, but if the children wanted them, they made them.

They used fine white flour for everything. Because there were so many people, the amount of flour they went through was no small figure.

Looking at the pile of white flour, Yu Qingshan felt a little dazed.

Now they had white flour and polished rice at every meal — no mixed-grain flour, no coarse grain porridge.

In the past, they couldn’t even eat their fill. Now they could eat until they were stuffed, and having meat and fish wasn’t a dream.

If someone had told him ten years ago that he would live like this, he would have thought they were joking, just trying to humor him. Who would have thought it would become reality?

Everyone’s standard of living was getting better. Many things no longer needed ration coupons to buy. Grain and meat were regulated by the market.

Prices were higher than before, but there was no longer the problem of not being able to buy them, nor the sight of people lining up at night outside the food stores.

This was the power of reform. It was good policy — people now had hope and motivation to work.

The twins were also making dumplings. Lin Yihong worked quickly, wrapping them without tearing the skins or making uneven sizes. Lin Yining was the opposite — her dumplings looked fine at first, but once boiled, they easily split open.

Yu Xiyi couldn’t bear to watch and told her to roll dumpling skins instead. Lin Yining obediently switched, knowing her dumplings weren’t much to look at.

Glancing between the twins, Yu Xiyi thought: they were both twins, with Lin Yihong as the older brother, yet the girl wasn’t better in the kitchen than her brother. Usually, girls had the advantage in cooking — especially with an aunt so skilled in the kitchen — but both of them were just average, with no inherited knack for it.

“Hurry up,” Lin Yihong urged. “After these, there’s still a tray of beef filling to wrap.”

Yu Xiangqing came out of the kitchen with a plate of fish filling. “Besides beef, there’s this fish filling too. Don’t slack off — pick up the pace.”

With so many young people helping, they’d have everything wrapped quickly.

As evening fell and the dishes were done, the kids all took turns bathing and changing into new clothes. Then it was time to eat.

There were so many people that they split into two tables.

Once seated, Yu Xiangqing looked over the dishes and was taken aback. Helping in the kitchen, she hadn’t realized how much there was. Now that it was all laid out, it was hard not to marvel.

Besides the dumplings, there were lobster, squid, beef, lamb, and even rare treats like donkey meat and venison.

Yu Qingshan placed slices of braised pork in front of the children — some fatty, some lean — but one after another, they asked for the lean cuts instead.

Yu Xianghai shook his head. “This is what happens when times get good — you get picky. Back then, having meat at all was a blessing. Fatty meat was the best, full of oil. Lean meat was what you bought only if nothing else was left. You had to get up early or know the butcher to get fatty meat. Things have really changed.”

Ye Qijia agreed. “True. Now I see fatty meat at the market all the time. Back then, it was the first thing to sell out.”

Yu Mingjie, having known hardship, remembered how much he’d craved meat — any meat, fatty or lean. The younger ones hadn’t suffered like that.

Yu Xiangyan said, “It’s because life in our country keeps getting better that the kids can afford to be picky. We should be glad.”

Yes, glad indeed.

Yu Xiangqing ruffled Yan Ming’s hair — he also preferred lean meat for its flavor.

The hardships they had endured, their children wouldn’t have to face. And with the one-child policy, every child was the family’s treasure. With only one, they got the best of everything.

Yu Qingshan poured himself some rice wine. It was mild and sweet — even those who couldn’t drink could have it.

Looking at the crowded house, he felt a wave of nostalgia. When was the last time they had a full family gathering?

Aside from funerals, it had been a long time — back to their days as educated youth.

Since riding the wave of the reinstated college entrance exams and getting into university, it had been hard to gather everyone. These moments would remain rare — the younger daughter was still nearby, but the second son lived far away in the capital and would return on the second day of the New Year.

The third daughter’s in-laws were also not nearby. And the youngest son had work — he’d leave just a day after the second son.

By the end of the meal, everyone was stuffed.

Afterward, Yu Xiang’an said, “Tomorrow morning, we’re going to the photo studio to take a family portrait.”

They had specially asked the photographer to work on the first day of the New Year, so a generous red envelope was expected.

The kids were excited, thinking about what they would wear.

Then came their favorite part — getting New Year’s money.

As the eldest, Yu Qingshan went into the room and returned with a thick stack of red envelopes.

At the sight, the children swarmed forward.

“Grandpa, Happy New Year! Stay forever young!”
“May we have this day every year, and this moment every age.”
“Wishing you abundance year after year, a happy New Year, and good health!”
“Happy New Spring, always smiling, and all the best!”

One blessing after another, no repeats.

Watching this, Yu Xianghai leaned toward Yu Xiang’an. “No wonder we send kids to school. In our time, we couldn’t come up with so many different greetings.”

Yu Qingshan beamed. “And I wish you all progress in your studies, good health, and success at work!”

That last one was clearly meant for Yu Mingjie — he was the only grandchild already working.

With better incomes now, Yu Qingshan was more generous, giving each grandchild ten yuan, boys and girls alike.

Ten yuan was already quite a lot — many people with an iron rice bowl job only made a few dozen yuan a month. The twins were very happy to get their New Year’s money. Starting this year, since they were now in junior high, their parents no longer took their money away, but they still had to show it to them first, because giving New Year’s money also meant giving it back to other people’s children. Their parents also made it clear they weren’t allowed to spend recklessly. If they did, the money would still be confiscated and they’d have no say in it. For big expenses, they had to report it first.

Reporting wasn’t a problem at all.

After Yu Qingshan gave each child their New Year’s money, Yu Xianghai also gave each one ten yuan. Money wasn’t tight for them now. These kids together got ninety yuan. Even Yu Xiangju, who wasn’t married, gave New Year’s money, making it ten recipients total — one hundred yuan in all. That was a sum most people could still manage.

Yu Xiangyan also gave each one ten yuan. Children weren’t allowed to open their red envelopes on the spot to check the amount, but they were delighted all the same — no matter what was inside, it was pure gain.

When it came to Yu Xiangqing, she complained she was at a loss. “You all either have three or two kids, but I got the short end of the stick — only one. Ah, I should have had another back then.”

Since she gave the same amount per child, with only one child she really did lose out. Yu Xianghai laughed at her. “Then you’d better have had them earlier. In a couple of years, you’ll be giving red envelopes to your nephews’ kids too. By the time your Yan Ming has a child to receive them, I’ll have been raking them in for years.”

Yu Xiangqing clutched her chest. “Eldest brother, why would you remind me of that? If you didn’t, I wouldn’t even have thought of it.”

Yu Xiangan laughed and pulled out a red envelope. “Then I’ll give you double to make up for it.”

Everyone knew Yu Xiangan was well-off, so naturally his red envelopes were bigger — fifty yuan each.

The children went back to their rooms to open their envelopes, laughing with delight, only to have them promptly confiscated by the adults, always with the same excuses:

“Mom will hold onto it for you so you don’t lose it.”

“Come ask me for it when you need it.”

But when the time came, it rarely made its way back to them.

“Your school fees, food, and notebooks already cost plenty. Want money? Go, go.”

This year Lin Yihong and Lin Yining were allowed to keep their own red envelopes, instantly making them the wealthy ones.

Yu Xiyi was envious — she was older, yet her parents still tightly controlled her spending. They never gave her any sign they fully trusted her. Lin Yining said she understood. “Xiyi-jie, you’re so pretty, of course Uncle and Auntie are afraid some bad boy will lead you astray.”

Yu Mingyao snorted with laughter. Yu Xiyi blushed and reached over to tickle Lin Yining. “What are you talking about? Don’t spout nonsense.”

Lin Yining dodged behind someone. “But it’s true. If I were as pretty as you, I wouldn’t trust myself either.”

Yu Xiyi was looking more and more like her uncle Wen Yizhen, and her looks even surpassed Wen Ruzhen’s.

It was only natural Wen Ruzhen and her husband didn’t feel at ease.

Lin Yining sighed. “If I were a boy, when I looked for a wife in the future, I’d want someone just like you.”

Yu Xiyi blushed even more. “Alright, are you ever going to stop?”

Lin Yihong nodded in agreement. “I think Xiyi-jie is great too.”

Lin Yining’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You don’t mean that I’m not, right?”

Lin Yihong said, “Don’t overthink it…”

The adults stayed up to keep watch through the night, while the kids who could handle it watched the Spring Festival Gala with them; those who couldn’t went to bed early and got up the next day full of energy.

The first day of the lunar new year was for paying New Year’s visits. Yu Xiangan and Lin Chuanbai also went visiting, though she had fewer places to go — more people came to her house to pay respects. They just sat briefly, left a small gift, and went on their way.

With so many children in the house now, they all expected red envelopes. Yu Mingfeng and Yu Mingyao got more than in past years.

And no one was stingy — the amounts were in whole yuan, never a few mao or fen.

Yu Xiangan told them to take them without worry — she’d return similar red envelopes in kind. It was just the usual social exchange.

Seeing the constant stream of visitors, Yu Xiangyan was experiencing it for the first time and gave her younger sister a thumbs-up. “Little sis, you’re good at this.”

Yu Xiangan smiled. “It’s nothing. If I couldn’t, all my years of effort would have been for nothing…”

The next day, they went to the photo studio.

Wen Ruzhen was intrigued by the array of clothing — no woman, no matter her age, could resist beautiful garments.

Yu Qingshan, now experienced, led his son to the armor section. “I tried this suit of armor last time.” He patted Yu Xianghai. “Want to try it? I remember you like it too.”

Yu Xianghai was tempted. “Dad, I saw that photo of you in armor. You looked impressive.”

“Come on, let’s all try.”

When Yu Xiangan saw Wen Ruzhen and Yu Xiyi come out in their outfits, they looked more like sisters than mother and daughter. Yu Xiangyan was grinning ear to ear.

Yu Qingshan, also smiling, patted Yu Xiangyan’s shoulder. “In a few years, you’ll be spoiled for choice picking a son-in-law.”

Yu Xiangyan’s face immediately fell. “Dad, what are you saying? She’s still young — what’s the rush to get married? No hurry.”

Yu Qingshan chuckled. “In a few years, if nothing’s happened yet, you’ll be anxious enough. Forget it, you’ll see when the time comes.”

Being a father wasn’t easy.

Yu Xianghai, also with a daughter nearly grown, felt a twinge in his teeth. No rush — let Mingyao finish her studies and university, then find someone. He’d prepare a generous dowry and have her brothers back her up so she’d never be bullied no matter where she married.

The photographer’s shots were professional, making everyone look even better.

Later, Yu Qingshan was especially pleased with the group portrait taken at the seaside. He planned to enlarge it and hang it on a photo wall at home — he’d seen that in movies and thought it was a great idea, so that the moment you walked in, you saw your family’s pictures.

On the sixth day of the new year, Yu Qingshan went with Yu Xianghai to Guangzhou to meet the in-laws. Yu Xiangan didn’t go, but Lin Chuanbai did. When they came back, he reported, “They seem cultured and reasonable, easy to talk to. They didn’t make any excessive demands, and what they did bring up was all for the young couple’s future. Looks good.”

Yu Xiangan smiled. “That’s good.” That was all she’d want in future in-laws — not family background or status, just good people who treated her child well.

Lin Chuanbai added, “The wedding date’s set — March.”

Yu Xiangyan and Yu Xiangqing had already gone back home, leaving the children behind until school started. The winter holiday wasn’t over, and they weren’t eager to leave — they still wanted to keep attending their extracurricular classes.

…

And just like that, the year turned to 1988.

In 1988, an important thing happened — the country allowed government bonds to be freely traded. Yu Xiangan had been keeping a close eye on the news and newspapers, watching policy changes closely, since they were deeply relevant.

She and Lin Chuanbai were indeed from a later era, but there was a lot they didn’t know, and because this was a parallel timeline, the years didn’t match exactly. Most of what they knew came from elders’ recollections or history lectures.

If you don’t pay attention, you’ll miss a lot.

Before, treasury bonds couldn’t be bought or sold freely. Once they could circulate, the market became completely different.

When banks bought them back, no one knew whether they were acquired from somewhere else or at a locally adjusted price. This created a price gap.

Some state-owned enterprises were assigned quotas, forcing employees to purchase a certain amount. They bought them, but since the bonds couldn’t be traded, to them it was like exchanging cash for scrap paper.

If someone was willing to take them, they wanted to sell in exchange for real cash.

Many people actually made their first fortune by reselling treasury bonds.

Because they couldn’t circulate across regions, people often didn’t know the buyback price elsewhere. Some sellers needed money urgently and couldn’t wait. Well-informed people could buy in one place and sell in another, profiting from the difference.

For example, in Location A, the bank might sell a 100-yuan bond at a 92% discount—92 yuan. In Location B, the bank might buy them for 102 yuan. Buying in A for 92 yuan and selling in B for 102 yuan nets 10 yuan profit per bond.

If you had capital, 920 yuan could earn 100 yuan.
9,200 yuan could earn 1,000 yuan.

In some rural places, where news was even slower to spread, bonds could be found for 80% or even 70% of face value.

Yu Xiangan told Yu Xianghai and Yu Xianyuan about this.

If they were traveling on business, they could make such a deal on the side—pure profit.

When Yu Xiangqing heard about this from her younger sister, she immediately took out all the family’s savings and had Yan Peng go purchase bonds. Yan Peng often traveled to rural towns, so when he returned from business trips, he could bring back a few bonds—sometimes worth hundreds, sometimes over a thousand.

At the time, pork was just over one yuan per jin, and Yan Peng’s monthly salary was seventy or eighty yuan. A single side trip could earn him several months’ wages.

After tasting success twice, Yu Xiangqing gritted her teeth and told Yan Peng, “Go borrow some money from your colleagues, and I’ll borrow some from mine. Opportunities like this don’t come often. If we miss it, it’ll be such a waste!”

The two of them earned fixed salaries. Life was comfortable enough, but it wasn’t particularly good.

During the New Year in the Special Economic Zone, they had been deeply shocked—there were so many wealthy people there. The government openly encouraged the idea that some people could get rich first.

Now, while riding this favorable wave, they could earn more money—just as Xiao An had said.

Their current house was fine for their own living, but what about when Yan Ming grew up and got married?

If they saved now and solved the housing issue, everything else would be easy to manage.

Yan Peng understood this perfectly well. He remembered that last time in the countryside, he had come across bonds selling at 85% of face value, but his funds were limited, so he could only buy a portion. Thinking back on it, he made up his mind: “Alright! I’ll borrow some money from my colleagues too!”

If he missed this chance, he knew he’d regret it.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃

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.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃

Ch 97: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

When Lei Ming and his group returned, he immediately placed an order for six thousand heavy cotton coats, plus another one thousand sets of pajamas and one hundred scarves.

Yu Xiangan didn’t even need to ask to know how well their business was doing.

This time, Lei Ming also bought a small batch of canned goods to test the waters, about half of them being cheaper fish cans. The order was small since it was just a trial run.

After several trips back and forth, the quantities kept increasing, and their cooperation became more and more seamless. Yu Xiangan would have the goods sent directly to the train station, where Lei Ming’s people would meet them, load them onto the train, and head north. Upon arrival, they would transfer to another train to deliver to their destination.

Lin Chuanbai felt like he was witnessing history — and living it. Besides the rise of these “international traders,” this was also the year compulsory education was implemented.

Before compulsory education, children had to pay tuition, and it wasn’t cheap — especially for rural families.

A few yuan per year might not seem like much, but once you counted tuition, book fees, and miscellaneous school costs, plus the fact that older children couldn’t help with chores, take care of younger siblings, or do light farm work while at school, it became a heavy burden for struggling households.

After tuition was waived, more people realized the value of higher education. They were willing to send their children to school, believing that if a child could make something of themselves, it would change the family’s fate. As for book and miscellaneous fees, they could reuse old books and find ways to scrape together the rest.

Some parents sent their children simply because they didn’t want to miss out on something free. Even if they didn’t believe in the value of education, they figured there was no harm in taking advantage of it. Whatever the motivation, the impact on the children’s futures was profound.

Suddenly, the number of children sent to school surged. Most were boys; there were girls, but still fewer than boys — though this was already a big improvement.

Chen Xiaoyang was delighted to see this. She insisted that her nieces go to school once they were old enough. She had wanted to study when she was young, but her family was too poor. She didn’t resent it — her own older brothers hadn’t all gone to school either. They learned to read and write later in literacy classes, along with basic numeracy.

Chen had taught herself more after joining the factory, asking for help from coworkers and studying on her own, which was exhausting after a full day of work. She often thought that if she’d been able to attend school as a child, she might have had more opportunities and possibly been promoted by now.

Liu Sanbao was also pleased. She took a day off to return to her hometown with the good news.

She considered herself lucky — she had left home on a whim to find work and was soon hired by Yu Xiangan as an assistant. She had been with her from the very beginning. Though not especially skilled, she was meticulous and remembered everything that needed doing. She anticipated her boss’s needs so she was never caught unprepared.

Her good performance led to steadily rising pay. Now she wanted to tell her brothers that their children could all go to school. Unlike her generation, where girls rarely studied, now tuition was free, so there was no excuse not to send them.

Of course, there were still opponents — especially when it came to sending girls to school.

For eight- or nine-year-old girls, there was “plenty” they could do at home: care for younger siblings, feed chickens, wash clothes, cook, feed pigs, hang laundry, tend vegetable gardens, weed, harvest peanuts — essentially serve as an extra pair of adult hands. Sending them to school meant losing all that help, even if it cost nothing.

Still, compulsory education required all children to attend. If parents resisted, village cadres would be sent to persuade them. Most gave in eventually, though a few insisted they couldn’t manage without the child’s labor.

Some argued that too much education was useless for girls, who would just marry sooner or later. If the girls went to school, there would be no one to do the housework or care for younger siblings. If adults stayed home to do it, the family might not even have rice to cook.

In the end, some reached a compromise: letting girls bring younger siblings to class. As long as they kept the little ones quiet, teachers turned a blind eye. Getting an education wasn’t easy, and if one could overcome these obstacles, it could change a life.

The twins had seen such situations and realized how fortunate they were.

Their parents, though not constantly at home, were working hard to earn money and provide a better life. They had plenty to eat and wear, went to school, and attended many extracurricular classes.

Sometimes, their parents were so affectionate with each other that the twins felt like extras — either being shooed off to their room or sent outside together.

Lin Yihong and Lin Yining: “…”

They were now in sixth grade, old enough to know what “liking someone” meant. Both were good-looking and had received love letters — which they rejected.

Lin Yihong: “I’ll only date after I get into college.”
Lin Yining: “You’re not my type, sorry.” She was adamant that her future partner had to be good-looking.

They kept this to themselves, not telling their parents.

This year, Yu Qingshan used his salary and bonuses from Yu Xiangan to build a three-story house.

It wasn’t fully finished yet, but it was spacious with plenty of rooms. When the whole family gathered, there would be enough space for everyone.

For Yu Xianghai and the others, living in their father’s house felt different from living in their sister’s. In their father’s house, they felt entitled; in their sister’s, they had to be more restrained.

The house was in the special economic zone, not in the busiest area, and close to the factory. Yu Qingshan didn’t plan to live there daily — he would still stay in the factory housing with Yu Xiangan.

When she went to see it after completion, she found it really did have a lot of rooms — and it needed them. Counting it up: Yu Xianghai’s family of five, Yu Xiangyan’s family of five, Yu Xiangqing’s family of three, her own family of four, plus Yu Xiangju, who was still single but would eventually have a family of at least three — that was at least sixteen people. With three floors, they needed about six rooms per floor to fit everyone.

If it were smaller, there’d be no way to arrange it.

Once it was furnished next year, Yu Qingshan planned to invite all the children over for a proper reunion. Even if his sons and daughters were too busy, the grandchildren would have school holidays.

The older generation had grown up together, but if the younger ones didn’t spend time with each other, they’d end up as nothing more than strangers who happened to share blood.

He said this and Yu Xiang’an fully agreed. “Alright then, when winter break comes next year, we’ll have them all come over here and stay there. By then it’ll be fully furnished, and I’ll sign them up for a class together. That way they can gain knowledge and also build their relationships.”

Yu Qingshan nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

And so it was decided.

During the New Year, Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai returned to their village in Baishi County to reunite with Grandma Zhang Chahua and her maternal grandparents Qin Qiang and Yao Cuifen.

Seeing the lively gathering, and thinking about how old these elders were, many passersby couldn’t help but remark how blessed they were.

But only a few days after the Lantern Festival, Zhang Chahua stopped breathing during her midday nap.

At her age, and passing peacefully without illness, it was considered a happy death. But still, she was gone.

Yu Qingshan had been mentally prepared, but the sadness was unavoidable. By the end of the funeral, he had lost several pounds. After the funeral, Yu Qingbao even fell ill for a while. His health had never been as good as his younger brother’s, and as the eldest son, he had to personally handle many matters back home. Once the funeral was over and the burden lifted, his body gave out.

The funeral became a topic of conversation for many. Times were different now—people cared more about ceremony, and life’s beginning and end were the most important events. The funeral wasn’t lavish, but it was done with great care, every detail carried out to perfection. Combined with the success of the filial children and grandchildren, many older people began to nag their own children, wishing they could have even one accomplished descendant to see them off when the time came.

Misfortune never comes alone. Not long after the funeral, Qin Qiang fell at home, and before long, he too was gone. His organs had simply aged too much.

When he passed, Yao Cuifen could hardly process it. She had always been the one in poorer health, the one who had been hospitalized for so long—how could he leave before her?

She couldn’t figure it out.

She ate less and less. Even when sent to the hospital, the doctors could do nothing. Birth, aging, sickness, and death—it was the natural course of life.

That year, three elders passed away in succession. Yu Xiang’an felt drained. Watching the children grow each year gave her a sense of accomplishment, but for the elderly, their remaining years were growing shorter, and for these three, the year had brought an end.

It took the Yu family quite a while to recover after the three funerals.

During this period, Yu Mingjie brought his girlfriend over. They had been talking about marriage, and if not for the series of funerals that year, they would have held a wedding. The marriage was now postponed to the following year.

Yu Xianghai and Ye Qijia were quite fond of their future daughter-in-law. She was of medium height, a bit plump—a sign of good fortune in their eyes. She had been a fellow student, though in a different class, and they hadn’t known each other until being assigned to the power plant, where they gradually grew closer.

Her parents were also accomplished—her father an engineer, her mother a nurse.

Yu Xiang’an felt conflicted. Once they had children, she would be upgraded to great-aunt status—suddenly part of the “grandparent” generation. It left her a little unsettled.

That semester was also a critical time for the twins, who were in sixth grade and preparing for their middle school entrance exams. Their affiliated middle school had strong teaching resources and was popular among parents, with grade requirements for admission. Based on their consistently top-ranked scores, there was little to worry about.

Still, Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an spent more time and energy tutoring them. The twins studied obediently. Though the focus on academics gave them a sense of pressure, they were happy their parents were spending more time at home.

When the exams ended, Yu Mansheng and Lu Anran welcomed their second child—a boy, completing the “good” character when paired with their daughter.

Yu Mansheng beamed as he looked at the wrinkly little baby with his daughter Cailan. “Hello, I’m your dad.”

Cailan looked from the baby to her father. “Did Mom really give birth to him?”

Yu Mansheng: “The doctor just carried him out—of course.”

Cailan wrinkled her nose. “Ugly!”

Yu Mansheng laughed. “You looked just like this when you were born.”

Cailan’s eyes went wide. She shook her head quickly. “No, I didn’t!”

Yu Mansheng: “It’s true. I even have photos. When we get home, we’ll check the album. Don’t dislike how your brother looks now—look how pretty you are now. He’ll grow to be just as good-looking.”

Cailan was doubtful. “Really?”

Yu Mansheng: “Of course.”

Cailan turned to Yu Xiang’an. “Aunt, is what my dad says true?” She still didn’t want to believe she had once been so ugly.

Yu Xiang’an held back a laugh and nodded. “All newborns look like this. If you take good care of him, he’ll grow to look more and more like you.”

At that, Cailan nodded seriously. “Alright, I’ll take care of him so he grows handsome quickly. Right now he’s too ugly…”

Yu Mansheng couldn’t stop grinning. “You’re still little. Let Mom and Dad take care of him—you focus on taking care of yourself, alright?”

…

Just like before, Lu Anran was looked after by Yang Huili after giving birth.

Yang Huili’s hands were already full—the older child was only three, the newborn even smaller. Neither could be left unattended.

The family had a nanny, but the children were too young; if they were bullied, they couldn’t speak up. Better to have family keeping an eye on them.

The mother- and daughter-in-law had now reached a good rhythm. Lu Anran avoided showing her luxurious spending habits in front of Yang Huili, and Yang Huili turned a blind eye to household expenses—if her son could earn money, spending a bit more was fine.

Mutual understanding meant fewer conflicts, and with Yu Mansheng and the children as a bond, their relationship stayed harmonious.

After the twins finished their exams, their aunt came with the new baby to visit them. Seeing such a tiny person amazed them—it was incredible that someone so wrinkly would later turn beautiful, like magic.

Lin Yining had been devastated when she first learned she had been that ugly herself. Back then she thought she’d be ugly forever. Now, grown up, she could only laugh at herself for such thoughts.

This was Lu Anran’s second birth, and it had been easier. Smiling at the twins, now that she had both a son and daughter, she was content. “So, what are your plans for this summer vacation?”

Lin Yihong’s eyes lit up. “We’re going to Grandpa’s.”

Their grandfather was no longer in Qin City, but in a coastal city. They would first spend time there with their great-grandfather and grandfather, and later, they might get a chance to visit a navy base and possibly board a huge warship. Since that wasn’t certain yet, she didn’t say it aloud.

Lu Anran smiled. “It’s rare to have time off—make sure you have fun. But don’t neglect your studies, or it’ll be hard to catch up.”

They did have summer homework. At the mention of it, Lin Yining sighed. “We’ve already started. We’re finishing it before we leave so we can play freely without worrying about running out of time.”

Lu Anran said, “Good children. If your younger brothers and sisters in the future can be half as well-behaved as you two, I’ll be satisfied.”

Yang Huili didn’t like hearing that kind of talk, even if it came from the twins’ mother. “They’re siblings. When they start school, they’ll be just the same—like their older brother and sister: excellent grades, polite, and considerate.”

She didn’t know much about interest classes or training programs, but she could see with her own eyes that Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an had raised the twins very well. Their top grades aside, whenever they spoke or were asked to show their talents, they left a deep impression—like refined young ladies and gentlemen. She felt her younger son’s future children should be no different.

It clearly took a lot of money to raise children like that, but her younger son wasn’t short of money, so naturally he should value education. Even if they couldn’t send them to a military camp experience like the twins had, that kind of thing wasn’t strictly necessary anyway.

Since Lin Chuanbai couldn’t get away from work, Yu Xiang’an and Yu Qingshan took the twins to the north together.

Yu Xiang’an could have taken them on her own without trouble, but Yu Qingshan wasn’t at ease. His youngest sister was so well-preserved that, in casual clothes without her usual commanding presence, she could easily pass for a young woman in her twenties. Going there was fine, but coming back alone—he just couldn’t relax, so he went along.

When Li Yujiao saw Yu Xiang’an, she unconsciously touched her own face. She was also the type to maintain herself well, but lately the signs of age had become more obvious. She’d even been using beauty products from Yu Xiang’an’s factory, but the results weren’t as good. Was Yu Xiang’an naturally beautiful, or did she have some other secret?

She asked, and Yu Xiang’an shook her head. “No, I don’t use anything else.”

Li Yujiao persisted. “Then do you eat anything special?”

Yu Xiang’an replied, “I eat all kinds of things. Does that count as special?”

She enjoyed all good food, and occasionally tried foreign cuisine.

If she really had to name something unique, it would be the spiritual spring water she drank. Its effects weren’t obvious in the short term, but over time it quietly improved her health, and her skin reflected her overall condition. In traditional Chinese medicine, observation was one of the key diagnostic methods—just by looking at a patient’s face, you could tell much about their health.

After greeting them, Lin Duzhong accepted the two jars of wine Yu Xiang’an brought, as well as two ginseng roots—one over thirty years old, the other over fifty. The ages weren’t extraordinary, but they were still rare enough to require effort to obtain, though not as precious as century-old ones.

These were what Lin Duzhong had asked for.

“Grandpa, what do you need these ginseng roots for? Don’t you still have ginseng wine?”

“There is some left, but these are for someone else,” he explained. “Not for me. Whatever you paid, I’ll reimburse you.”

If it were for him, she wouldn’t take any money. But since it was for someone else, she’d charge the market price.

“Grandpa, ginseng is getting harder and harder to find these days.”

Lin Duzhong nodded. “Yes, and this quality is good. I saw another one in the market, but it had lost most of its medicinal potency—unusable.”

Yu Qingshan glanced around the house. In the past, the in-laws had lived in a three-bedroom, two-living room apartment in the mechanical factory’s housing district. Now, with their higher rank, they had been given a two-story house with its own small courtyard.

You could see their status from the house alone.

Seeing him looking around, Yu Xiang’an asked, “Where’s Dad?”

She hadn’t seen Lin Houpǔ, but that wasn’t surprising—he was a busy man.

“At work,” Lin Duzhong replied.

“And Tiandong? He’s not here either? Isn’t he coming home for summer vacation?”

“He’s not coming back,” Li Yujiao answered. “No idea what he’s doing.”

“He said he’s visiting a friend,” Lin Duzhong added. “He’s not a child anymore. If he wants to do something, let him. Socializing is necessary.”

Li Yujiao understood the reasoning, but as a mother she missed her son. She had hoped to spend the long summer together, but he wasn’t coming home.

Lin Duzhong turned to Yu Qingshan. “When your kids were in school, you probably didn’t worry so much.”

Yu Qingshan smiled. “It was different for me. By the time they got into college, they were already much older. Not the same situation.”

His children had been old enough to be independent, so there was no constant worrying. But Lin Tiandong wasn’t even twenty, had never worked, and had always been a student. Even though he was legally an adult, they still saw him as a kid. When a kid didn’t come home and went out with friends, naturally they paid more attention.

…

Yu Xiang’an didn’t stay long—just two days—before returning home, leaving the twins there to wait for their cousin Lin Yuejing. Later, they would all go together to train at a coastal military unit.

When the summer was nearly over, Yu Xiang’an returned to pick them up and found both of them tanned several shades darker—Lin Yihong even more so than Lin Yining.

He hadn’t paid much attention to sun protection, but Lin Yining was different. She avoided the sun whenever she could, and if she had to go out, she applied plenty of sunscreen. She’d brought enough to last the whole trip. The difference between using it and not was obvious—she was darker, but nowhere near as tanned as her brother, and she was satisfied with that.

Back at school, she knew she’d be pale again within a few months—that was what she liked most.

This was Lin Yuejing’s first time training with them. Although they were cousins, they hadn’t been close before, barely knowing each other. But after a month of “shared hardship,” she and Lin Yining were chattering non-stop by the end. When it came time to part, Lin Yuejing was reluctant to let her go. “If only we went to the same school—we could see each other every day.”

Lin Yining was also reluctant. “We agreed—every summer from now on, we’ll be together. And when you get back, write me letters and call me. I’ll call you too.”

“Alright,” Lin Yuejing said. “Summers together from now on. I’ll call when I get home to say I’m safe, but for everyday stuff, we’ll write. Calls are expensive and might get in the way of the adults’ work.”

“Mhm, mhm. Unless it’s urgent, we’ll just write to chat…”

The two “sisters” said a heartfelt goodbye, while Lin Duzhong and Lin Houpǔ watched with smiles—that was exactly the kind of harmony they liked to see.

When Yu Xiang’an brought them back, the new school term started in just a couple of days, and they entered middle school.

On the first day, Wang Lipan had also turned several shades darker.

Lin Yining said, “…Want me to recommend a diet for you? I asked my mom—these foods can help whiten your skin.”

She knew he’d darken easily, but she still thought fair skin suited him better.

He refused without hesitation. “Thanks, but no.”

They ended up in the same class, with a familiar homeroom teacher—Chen Yi’s father. He remembered the twins well and treated them warmly, giving helpful advice when needed.

It even seemed like he treated them better than the chubby kid in class. One time, he even brought up the blue-and-white porcelain bowl, which made Lin Yining ask her father that evening, “Dad, did you ever send those bowls for appraisal? Were they fake?”

Lin Chuanbai said, “Why are you suddenly asking this?”

Lin Yining explained, “I just feel like he’s been way too nice to us. So I was wondering… could it be that Chen Yi’s dad thought you deliberately came up with a proper excuse back then, just so you could help their family, and that’s why…?” Otherwise, she couldn’t think of any other reason. Honestly, it made her feel a little uneasy.

Lin Chuanbai had put the bowls away in the cabinet. He had never taken them out again, nor sent them for appraisal.

“Your birthday is coming up. This pair of bowls will be your birthday present this year.”

Lin Yining: “???”

But their birthday was still quite a while away.

“Dad, I don’t get it.”

Lin Chuanbai stood up. “You don’t get it? Then take your time thinking about it when you go back. I’ll give you your birthday present early.”

Lin Yining went to find Lin Yihong. “Brother, what do you think Dad means?”

Lin Yihong said, “…Maybe he wants us to get them appraised ourselves? I think, knowing Dad, once that matter passed back then, he just put it aside. He probably doesn’t know whether they’re real or fake.”

Lin Yining asked, “So if we get them appraised, then what?”

Lin Yihong replied, “First, we get them appraised. If they’re real, then it’s just a normal transaction. If they’re fake… well, then it’s still fine—it means Mr. Chen doesn’t need to feel guilty about anything.”

Lin Yining understood. “We should be able to cover the appraisal fee, right?” Since starting middle school, their allowance had been a bit more generous. Plus, they still had a few unopened red envelopes from New Year. That should… be enough.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃

Ch 96: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Lin Chuanbai received a call from Xu Haili.

On the other end of the line, Xu Haili’s voice was full of indignation. “Chuanbai, you really need to have a good talk with your wife. She’s already part of the Lin family—so why is she still always favoring her own side of the family? You’re not home, so you don’t know how much her family’s been making. That house of theirs is built so nicely now. We all know what they used to be like before. She must have secretly been giving them money behind your back.”

Xu Haili spoke with heartfelt anger. “That’s the Lin family’s money, and now she’s surnamed Yu! Not everyone in the Lin family is living comfortably. This is biting the hand that feeds you! We relatives aren’t exactly well-off ourselves—how can she ignore her in-laws entirely and only help her own family?”

Her meaning was obvious.

Xu Haili kept going on the phone: “Your wife’s business is doing so well—if she just reached out a little to help us, we wouldn’t have to worry about having food on the table. Your younger brothers would remember your kindness for the rest of their lives. We’re all Lins, after all.”

Lin Chuanbai felt helpless. “Second Aunt, did you call me just to say this? I know what she’s done, and honestly, she hasn’t really done anything—just introduced some people. The rest is up to individual effort.”

Hearing that, Xu Haili raised her voice. “What’s this? You don’t want to hear it? Aren’t you part of the Lin family? Seeing us living like this and you’re not even thinking of lending a hand? You marry into the Yu family and suddenly your elbow’s turning outward? We’re your real family!”

Lin Chuanbai let out a breath. “Second Aunt, you’ve misunderstood. Xiang’an hasn’t done that—it’s their own hard work.”

Xu Haili pressed on. “Just give me a straight answer. Selling clothes isn’t complicated—why not sell to me? I’ll sell them and give you commission afterward. You’re first cousins—don’t let the relationship go cold just because you haven’t been around each other these years. My son has always remembered you. Your wife can’t just look out for her own family. And another thing—you’re not living together. I believe she wouldn’t do anything improper, but you know how it looks. You need to be careful.”

Lin Chuanbai chuckled drily. “I’ve got things to do. I’m hanging up now.”

He hung up and immediately forgot about it.

After all, this was someone he hadn’t spoken to in years, suddenly calling because they’d heard Yu Xiang’an was making money in the Special Economic Zone, and opening with badmouthing her—implying she might even be unfaithful. He’d have to be a fool to take that seriously. If they’d come forward politely, maybe he would have thought it over, but after hearing this… forget it.

Helping them make money wouldn’t even earn him a thank-you—so why bother doing something thankless?

When Lin Nanxing saw her hang up, she leaned over. “Mom, what did he say? Did he agree to let us sell clothes?”

Xu Haili shot her a dark look. “What do you think?”

Clearly, he hadn’t.

Lin Nanxing let out a frustrated sigh. “We’re not even asking for much. If we can’t sell them, at least we could wear them ourselves.” She was itching for it.

She was a regular customer at Ye Qijia’s shop.

She’d bought plenty of clothes there—watching her own money flow out while Ye Qijia’s poured in. It left her feeling unbalanced. She’d mentioned it to her mother, and Xu Haili, already unhappy, was immediately on board. The two of them decided to call Lin Chuanbai, hoping to get a slice of the pie.

The result…

Xu Haili’s face stayed grim for a while. “If he won’t agree, then I’ll call Dad. I don’t believe the old man wouldn’t step in. Even if that second son is dense, he’s still his own son—he can’t just stand by and watch.”

She wanted to complain to Lin Duzhong. She had two children of her own—valuing her son more, though she cared for both. But overall, they were both her flesh and blood. If her son did well while her daughter struggled, of course she’d expect her son to help.

Now her eldest brother-in-law held a high post elsewhere, but because they lived far away, they couldn’t get any benefits from him. This nephew was much closer now, so it only made sense to ask for help.

She pushed for Lin Jiqing to make the call instead—he’d have more pull—but when he heard what she wanted, he hemmed and hawed, unable to speak clearly. Clearly, he was unreliable.

If he couldn’t do it, then she’d have to go herself.

When Lin Duzhong got her call, he listened to her fuss over one thing after another—asking how Lin Tiandong was doing in school, whether Lin Houpu’s job was going smoothly, whether his own health was good, whether he was eating well—checking in on everyone.

He knew his daughter-in-law well enough to see through it. If she was willing to spend this long on the phone without worrying about the cost, she definitely had an agenda.

After circling around, Xu Haili finally got to the point. “But there’s one thing that’s been on my mind for a while now—it’s been bothering me. Tell me, we haven’t done anything wrong, so why would Chuanbai’s wife keep such a big thing from us? We’ve never had any real conflicts—always polite and friendly.”

On the other end, Lin Duzhong was unmoved. No conflicts?

If he was honest, there hadn’t been any deep grudges, true—but there wasn’t much real warmth either.

He remembered well how, back when they all lived in Baishi County, whenever Chuanbai brought them food, the second daughter-in-law always made sure to take a share. Petty little things like that added up—and they’d worn down what family feeling there was.

Xu Haili went on, “Dad, surely they wouldn’t hide something like this from even you? If they did, that would be too much.”

Lin Duzhong coughed. “I already know about it.”

That left Xu Haili momentarily speechless, then her tone rose. “So they told you, but to us—his second uncle’s family—we’re treated like outsiders? We’re the last to know? That’s just to keep us from taking advantage, isn’t it…”

Lin Duzhong frowned. “Did you think it would be this big in the beginning? I’ve heard a bit—it’s been a lot of hard work. And it’s their own household. They can live how they like. You say you didn’t know—well, did you ever ask? If you’d asked, I doubt they would’ve hidden it from you.”

That stopped her short. She really hadn’t asked—she’d just been eaten up with jealousy. Why should they get to go to top universities in the capital and live so glamorously, while her two children could only plod along here? Her daughter still had to scramble for a house. She didn’t want to ask—she didn’t want to see their smug faces.

Her reaction made Lin Duzhong sigh. Just as he thought—she’d never asked. In that case, what was there to argue? The families had split long ago. Even Guangbai and Chuanbai, who were real brothers, had split households. Once you’ve split, you’re two separate families. If Chuanbai wants to share, he can—but if he doesn’t, you can’t call him wrong for it. It just means the relationship isn’t there.

He didn’t want the younger generations to drift apart—but relationships take time and interaction to build.

With the way the second daughter-in-law handled people, it was already good enough if she didn’t offend anyone.

Xu Haili said, “Dad, you have to talk to Chuanbai and his wife.”

Lin Duzhong asked, “And what exactly do you want me to say?”

Xu Haili brightened. “The Yu family’s gotten such a big windfall. Their clothes are selling like crazy. Are we just going to stand by and watch her send all that money to her own family?”

Now he understood—she was just envious. “You want to sell clothes?”

Xu Haili answered loudly, “Yes.”

He asked, “Is this just your idea, or does everyone know? Have you already spoken to Chuanbai?”

She replied, “Everyone in the family knows and agrees. I called him, but he didn’t give me a clear answer. I just thought, since everyone else in the family has jobs and can’t afford to take time off, I could do it—help supplement the household income.”

She didn’t have a job, just usually helped with childcare and housework, so going out to sell things wouldn’t affect much. But if the family members with jobs got dragged into it, that wouldn’t do—what if it affected their standing in the eyes of their superiors?

In Xu Haili’s view, in the long run, Yu Xiang’an was foolish. Sure, business was making money now, but what about later? Could she still keep it up when she got older? Even if she was earning a lot now, too much money was dangerous.

In the old days, people like that were capitalists, destined to be overthrown.

Lin Duzhong figured she must have said something unpleasant to Chuanbai when she called him—otherwise, why would he have reacted that way? He just couldn’t understand. Wasn’t she asking Xiao An for help? Was this the attitude of someone asking for help? Did Xiao An owe her something? If she really called Chuanbai with nothing but accusations, it was a wonder he even took the call.

Lin Duzhong felt worn out. But her personality was fixed—she was already a grandmother, not about to change now.

He sighed. If they’d put more thought into finding a wife for his second son back then, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out like this.

Not that the second son’s family was doing badly—he had a job, his grandson and granddaughter-in-law had jobs, his daughter and son-in-law had jobs, and they lived comfortably. Nanxing’s husband didn’t have enough room at first, but later Guangbai’s place was given to them for five yuan a year—basically for free. With a setup like that, they could live well anywhere.

“Have Chuanyong call me later,” he said. If there was anyone sensible in the second son’s family, it was him. He wasn’t even sure if her claim that “everyone in the family knows” was true.

When Lin Chuanyong found out what his mother had done, he pinched the bridge of his nose and drew out his words. “Mom, what are you trying to do?”

He honestly couldn’t figure her out.

“Mom, remember the other day when you wanted Cousin-uncle’s help? What did you do first? You gave him some meat in advance, and then asked him to make you a new cabinet. Now you want Second Brother and Second Sister-in-law to help you, but you haven’t said a single nice thing to them. Why would they help you?”

Xu Haili was momentarily at a loss, then smacked him on the arm. “How can that be the same? Your cousin-uncle’s hardly family at all—calling him ‘uncle’ is just a formality. Who knows how many branches removed we are. But your second brother—he’s your real second brother! You’re his younger brother, what’s wrong with him helping you?”

“This isn’t my biological brother. And even if it were, we all have our own families now. Is this how you’d want someone to approach you for help? If someone asked you like that, how would you feel?”

His wife, standing nearby, stayed silent, but her expression was telling. She didn’t understand how her mother-in-law could think this way. She had plenty of capable relatives, but got along with none of them—only with her own natal family, whom she often supported with things from her in-laws. Of course they liked her generosity. But had she ever wondered why she couldn’t get along with her husband’s family?

She called them “family” only when there was something to gain. If she didn’t need them, she set them aside. It was too calculating.

“Mom,” Chuanyong said with a sigh, “when you called Second Brother, did you say anything they’d want to hear? Anything reasonable? If you spoke like that, why would they help you?”

Xu Haili understood—he meant she didn’t speak nicely—but she insisted she was just telling the truth. “I’m his second aunt, his real second aunt. If he doesn’t help us, your grandfather won’t let it go.”

“You really think so?” he asked.

She nodded, and he was speechless.

“Why do you want to go into business? Do you have a plan? What about a shop?”

“What shop? Other people start with street stalls. I’ll just lay out a piece of cloth on the ground—that way I save on rent.”

“And where will you get the money to buy the clothes?”

“Your second brother and sister-in-law have so much money now. We can borrow some from them first, and I’ll pay them back once I’ve made a profit.”

Hearing this, Chuanyong felt utterly drained. “Mom, where do you get this confidence from? Confidence that they’ll help you, and lend you money? I just… never mind. But how did you even get this idea? We’re not struggling financially.”

“Your sister’s always buying clothes, and I figured we could do it too. It’s not that we can’t make ends meet, but earning a bit extra for the household would be nice. I don’t work, and selling things wouldn’t affect you all.”

He shook his head. “Mom, no. Listen to me—you say it won’t affect us, but when you’re busy, do you think we could just stand by and not help? If we don’t, what will people say? Mom, don’t start this. I’ve got something uncertain going on—there’s a chance I might get promoted. Let’s not stir things up at home, or if anything goes wrong, it could be ruined.”

“Really?” she said, brightening. “You’re not just saying that to make me happy?”

“Of course it’s true. We should know in a while. So please, don’t cause any conflicts right now—any bad impression could ruin it.”

She nodded eagerly. “Alright, alright, I won’t make trouble. I understand—it’s an important time.”

“…Let’s hope so,” he muttered. “And explain it to your sister.”

“Don’t worry,” she promised. Nothing would get in the way of her son’s promotion.

Once he’d talked her out of it, Chuanyong called Lin Chuanbai to apologize. “Second Brother, I just found out what my mom did. I’m sorry—honestly, I don’t even know what to say about her. Don’t take it to heart.” He gave a rueful smile. “She acted too impulsively—this isn’t suitable for her. With her temperament, I’d be afraid she’d end up arguing with customers.”

He had no desire to see her selling clothes—not because he didn’t want the potential income, but because with her personality, it was all too likely she’d cause trouble. They’d end up cleaning up the mess instead of making money. Better for her to just live quietly.

And what he’d told her about the promotion wasn’t a lie—after transferring to the pharmaceutical factory, he’d worked hard and earned recognition. While many other factories’ fortunes were declining, theirs was growing, thanks to good products and expanding transportation. If he got promoted, his pay would rise a grade, and the family would be more comfortable. There was no need for her to insist on hawking clothes, especially if she ended up clashing with someone—it wouldn’t end well.

No matter how he looked at it, he just couldn’t see his mother successfully selling clothes.

Chuanbai accepted his cousin’s apology. He knew this younger cousin had it rough—when they were kids it wasn’t so bad, but once he’d married and become an adult, every time Xu Haili quarreled with someone, it was him who had to smooth things over. His uncle barely spoke a handful of words a day. It couldn’t have been easy.

And so, the matter ended there. Chuanbai didn’t tell Yu Xiang’an about it—he didn’t see any need to upset her.

She remained completely unaware that it had even happened.

…

Later, Liu Mingyue called to ask Yu Xiang’an whether she should buy treasury bonds. She personally wasn’t required to buy much, but her husband had been allocated a lot, and she was torn over whether it was worth spending so much to get them.

Yu Xiangan still had some impression of treasury bonds.

Buy them, of course—right now it might seem like exchanging cash for these pieces of paper is useless, since you can’t eat them, can’t use them, and can’t spend them like money, and people worry they’ll just become waste paper. But later, these bonds will be worth a lot.

She couldn’t say it like that to Liu Mingyue, though. Instead, she just told her that if later on someone was willing to sell them at a discount, and the discount was big enough, she’d like to buy some. With the state backing them, she believed the country wouldn’t let people take a loss.

It was true enough.

Once she thought it through, Liu Mingyue was reassured. From another angle, when higher-ups were assigning purchase quotas, if they bought more, it might even help them get noticed and remembered by leadership.

After hanging up, Yu Xiangan fell into thought. She couldn’t recall exactly when treasury bonds had been sold at a discount, or when they later skyrocketed in value. Back then most of her focus was on cooking, and she didn’t know much about this. Lin Chuanbai didn’t either, so even if they knew it could make money, they probably wouldn’t put in too much for fear of getting stuck.

She had barely hung up when Yu Mansheng came by, introducing a man to her.

He was tall and heavily built, with a scar across his face, giving him a fierce, intimidating look. At about 1.9 meters, he didn’t have to do anything to exert pressure just by standing there.

Yu Mansheng said, “This is the older brother of that young guy who came looking for work before. That kid left home before he was sixteen, times were hard, and I thought he was sharp, so I took him on to help with odd jobs. His family situation wasn’t good. This brother had joined the army, hadn’t been home in years, and seems to have just retired. When their parents got sick, they couldn’t be saved, and he had a falling-out with his uncles and left home.

“This brother’s capable. He didn’t leave an address, so I don’t know how he tracked me down, but he wanted to thank me for taking in his younger brother. I’d advanced some pay to the kid, and he thought I was decent, so he told me about a lead.”

Yu Xiangan asked, “What lead?”

Yu Mansheng said, “He’s got quite a bit of cash now. He went back home, fixed up his parents’ graves, built a house, made good money. He told me how—he’s been going to Brother Su’s place to trade. He takes daily goods from here to swap over there, where they lack light industrial products.

“But he also said the road’s risky if you’re not skilled, though if you make it back safely, the profits are huge.”

Yu Xiangan looked at him sharply. “You’re not tempted to go try, are you?”

Yu Mansheng rubbed his nose. “If I said I wasn’t tempted, you wouldn’t believe me. But my kid’s still so young—how could I leave? I know my limits.”

Yu Xiangan said, “Good. Because if something happened… with your child so young, I’ll be blunt—if your wife decided to remarry, no one could stop her. Most of what you’ve earned would go to your daughter, and if she took your daughter into another marriage… just think about it.”

Yu Mansheng’s face turned green. In his mind, he stomped out the last spark of that idea. “Got it, sis. Don’t say stuff like that—it’s bad luck. I’ll live long and stay safe!”

Yu Xiangan gave him a look. “If I don’t spell it out, you won’t drop it. Now, what did you actually want to say?” It wasn’t like they had to start from scratch—there was no need to risk lives for profit.

Yu Mansheng said, “Thing is, you know how the Russians are built differently from us. The clothes we make here—the large and extra-large sizes—are what they need for everyday wear.”

He sounded almost envious.

He was well built himself, but next to them he didn’t compare.

Yu Xiangan understood. “You mean making clothes to fit their needs?”

“Right. And since you’ve invested in two clothing factories, that shouldn’t be hard for you.”

It wasn’t.

If he could sell them and sell in bulk, they could both benefit.

As for legality—she was just a clothing producer. If compatriots came to buy clothes, she sold them. What they did with them afterward wasn’t her concern.

“How many does he want?”

“The first batch he wants three thousand pieces, but we have to provide samples first. Once he approves, he’ll take the three thousand. Then we send them over—if they’re accepted, the second order will be at least six thousand, maybe over ten thousand. The requirements are size and warmth—it’s freezing over there in winter.”

And so, Yu Xiangan met this man, whose name was Lei Ming.

She already knew his purpose, so the talks went smoothly. Within days, she had the sample padded coats ready for him to check.

He was tall and broad, tried one on, examined the stitching carefully. “If they’re all like this, I’ll take them.”

“Alright, give me a couple days to pack them for you.”

Lei Ming only wanted two colors—black and gray.

Since he was buying three thousand coats and she saw potential in this, she also gave him, free of charge, ten extra-large silk robes, pull-over sweaters, jackets, scarves, and silk scarves—samples.

If he liked them, he could order those too.

She also casually mentioned that her main business was food—restaurants, instant noodles with condiments, canned goods. The canned food was from a new production line this year.

Lei Ming was speechless.

In the south, it was still blazing hot in late summer, but in the north it had already cooled, and the heavy clothing market was just right.

Lei Ming worked this trade with several fellow veterans. His younger brother looked nothing like him—thin and small—and stayed behind on Yu Mansheng’s site doing odd jobs. He, his comrades, and a few other helpers took the clothes and boarded a northbound train.

If this trip went well, they could breathe easier in the future.

The profits were huge—big stacks of U.S. dollars—but their heads were still on the line. Last time, he’d come back with a knife wound.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃

Ch 95: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Watching those people take a bullet, Yuan Yang returned to the Special Economic Zone, planning to change her name in a while and transfer her household registration here. That way, she could make a clean break from the past, and in this brand-new place, her family could start life over again. As long as no one dug too deeply, no one would know about her past.

Now her son and daughter were both with her, and the future looked bright.

She was determined to live well, to make her life better and better—otherwise, all her painstaking effort to escape that hellish place would have been for nothing.

With such a satisfying outcome, Yu Qingshan’s body relaxed, and smiles appeared on his face more often.

That Pan Hu, because of his crimes, had also taken a bullet. Aside from what happened to Yu Xianghe, he had killed before. A life for a life—what more was there to say?

Miao Hongxing also felt relieved when she learned the result. The heavy weight on her heart was gone, and her purse was now full. From now on, she could sleep soundly, and the money in her hands would be enough for her family to live comfortably for quite a while.

…

Gao Yimei’s life wasn’t going so well now, because their textile factory had been hit hard. Their stock was piling up in the warehouse, unsold. In the past, cloth was so scarce that people without enough ration coupons would use all kinds of means to beg for a way to get some. Now the situation was reversed.

Gao Yimei knew perfectly well why the factory was in this state—the patterns they produced were too old-fashioned. Even she didn’t like them. When she wanted to buy clothes, she preferred the trendy designs from outside. But the people who had the final say on production didn’t think there was a problem. They thought everything was fine.

What could she do?

Before, she had to work overtime. Now she sat idle day after day.

Without work, there was naturally no bonus. Benefits had been drastically cut back. All that was left was the basic wage.

Life was getting harder.

Her income was shrinking, but prices outside kept rising.

She had three children, all of whom needed to go to school, which meant tuition, textbooks, miscellaneous fees, and so on. Add in the money they gave to her elderly parents and household expenses, and there was almost nothing left to save.

Gao Yimei sat calculating the family’s money, feeling worried.

When Zhang Dashi came home from work and saw her frowning, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Her temper flared instantly. “You still need to ask? The eldest will be starting junior high next year, and the expenses will be even higher. What do you think is wrong? When the other two are in junior high too, we won’t be able to make ends meet at all!”

Zhang Dashi’s brow furrowed. “How much money do we have left at home?”

Gao Yimei took out the metal box where they kept their cash. “All of it’s here.”

They had once had some savings, but their youngest daughter had gotten sick, and treatment in the county hadn’t worked. They’d taken her to the city for two or three months before she finally recovered, and the savings they’d built up over the years were almost gone.

Since she managed the household finances, she naturally felt agitated after doing the math. “Life in the countryside is so much better now—they don’t have to worry about grain or eggs. They live more comfortably than we do, and we still send them so much every month. You know how much we have left. Can’t we give a little less for now?”

Zhang Dashi stayed silent.

Back when times were harder, he was the only one who had made it out of farming life, and he gave his parents ten yuan a month. Even after getting married, he kept doing that.

Now there really wasn’t much money left. He glanced at the money in the box—less than a hundred yuan.

That wouldn’t go far.

“My parents have it tough. I’ll think of something else,” he said, still unwilling to cut the money they gave.

Gao Yimei wasn’t surprised by that answer. She snapped the box shut. “Then can you think of a way? With your job, what else do you think you can do? Aren’t you afraid someone will report you?” The uniform he wore was an honor—but also a constraint.

Zhang Dashi gave a helpless smile. “You think I’d do something shady? Of course I mean honest work. I wouldn’t cross the line.”

She gave a cold snort. “Then tell me—what way? You planning to work as a porter after your shift?”

Zhang Dashi: “…”

How did she know?

She didn’t want him to take such grueling labor jobs again. “Forget it. If something happens to you, what will we do?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I’m strong and healthy—nothing’s going to happen. We just need to get through this stretch.”

But she wasn’t confident. If the higher-ups didn’t change their ways, the textile factory’s business would only get worse.

After a pause, she spoke more calmly. “I’ve already written to my friend.”

“Which friend?” he asked, then remembered. “That college graduate who went into business?”

She nodded. “Yes, her. Her business is doing incredibly well now. No wonder she went into it—just look at her sister-in-law’s family. The money’s been pouring in. They’re building a house this year; they must have made a lot.”

“…You’re not afraid of what people will say?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “If my life’s going well, they can say whatever they want. It’s not like I’ll lose a piece of flesh.”

Yu Xiangan had been hiding the fact that she had gone into business, but this year the secret hadn’t held.

When someone else in Baishi County was admitted to a university in the capital, word got around, and news that Yu Xiangan had resigned to do business in the Special Economic Zone spread back home.

It caused a stir locally. Many couldn’t understand her choice.

An iron rice bowl job was secure and respected—steady income, guaranteed pension. Even immortals wouldn’t trade that away. Why had she quit?

Older generations, especially, couldn’t fathom it.

Some even went to Qin Qiang and Yao Cuifen to persuade them to talk Yu Xiangan into coming back. If she admitted she was wrong and showed the right attitude, the leaders would surely let her return. A graduate from a prestigious university was too valuable to waste.

What? She’d made a lot of money in business?

That just made her a nouveau riche—couldn’t last.

No matter what they said, Yu Xiangan was never going back. If she returned, she’d face endless lectures—and requests to lend money or help people get jobs.

Some people even tried to get her phone number and address, wanting to “kindly persuade her to mend her ways,” as though she’d committed some terrible crime. The idea made her laugh.

Not everyone opposed her; some supported her.

Ye Qijia was one of her strongest supporters. Now earning a fortune through a clothing franchise, she was practically making gold every day.

She’d originally planned to wait until her house was built before quitting her job so she could go all in on business, but she had already resigned.

Ye Qijia had started out selling clothes at a street stall. As her profits grew and her inventory increased, a stall became inconvenient, so she rented a shop. Later, others came to her for wholesale orders, which she supplied as a secondary distributor.

Though the profit margin was smaller than retail, the large volume made up for it.

The money was good, and making money was addictive.

She was already planning to buy land near the train station to build a warehouse. Once it was up, she wouldn’t have to move stock around so much, and turnover would be faster, letting her earn even more.

She’d intended to resign only after the house was finished, but the construction kept her so busy she quit beforehand. Her sales job might have been easy, but she couldn’t be absent too long. And when she thought about how much time it took away from the business, all for a meager monthly salary, she steeled herself and gave it up, focusing entirely on the house and her clothing business.

Yu Xianghai knew how profitable doing business could be, so of course he supported her. Even if they never earned another cent from now on, it would still be enough for their family to live comfortably for the rest of their lives.

Among Yu Xiang’an’s friends, there were also those who opposed it, such as Yan Yuzhen.

She believed that stability was most important. Doing business was not that simple — you might make a profit today but lose money tomorrow. And if you lost, what would life be like after that?

She didn’t necessarily think Yu Xiang’an should go back to her original job, but she felt Yu Xiang’an ought to plan a fallback. If one path didn’t work out, there should be another way to go.

And no matter what, Lin Chuanbai’s salary wouldn’t be low. No matter what happened, the family could still get by.

Gao Yimei was one of the friends who agreed with her decision. She wasn’t a rigid person.

What, did being self-employed mean stealing rice or salt from your home?

Life was so convenient now — wasn’t it all because self-employed businesses had appeared?

If she could make money, Gao Yimei didn’t care what others said.

But what could she do herself? Sell clothes too?

Gao Yimei shook her head. If she wanted a share of that market, she’d be stealing from her sister-in-law’s mouth, and she couldn’t do that. So in her letter, she explained her current family situation and asked what might suit her. Her requirements weren’t high — just enough to earn a little extra to supplement the household, since she couldn’t put together much startup capital.

Zhang Dashi confirmed this and stayed quiet for a while. “Then let’s wait for her reply.”

If she was really determined, he wouldn’t care what others said.

Yu Xiang’an received Gao Yimei’s letter and thought it over.

When her mother opened the letter and then sat there deep in thought, Lin Yining shifted her gaze from the TV to her mother and leaned over. “Mom, who’s the letter from?”

Yu Xiang’an: “From your Auntie Gao.”

“Auntie Gao.” Lin Yining thought for a moment, then remembered. “Is that the Auntie Gao who works at the fabric factory?” The twins hadn’t returned to Baishi County often and didn’t have a strong impression of her mother’s friends there.

Yu Xiang’an: “Yes, that’s her.”

Lin Yining: “What does Auntie Gao say in the letter?”

Yu Xiang’an: “She says the factory isn’t doing well, and she’s asking if I have any way for her to earn a little extra to help with household expenses. Her younger daughter was sick recently, cost them a lot of money. Seems like she’s recovered, but it drained most of their savings.”

Both parents working to raise three children wasn’t that many kids, but Gao Yimei cared a lot about their studies and never skimped on buying learning materials. She also didn’t cut corners on food and household use, and she had to support elderly family members too. So after this incident, money must be tight, and she’s started thinking of ways to earn extra income.

Lin Yining’s first thought was her eldest aunt. “Can’t she just sell clothes with Auntie?”

Yu Xiang’an didn’t answer but asked back, “Think about it carefully — is that suitable?”

Lin Yining blinked, thought hard, and couldn’t figure it out. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Yu Xiang’an: “That money was yours to earn. Normally, you could make a hundred yuan, but now if someone else joins you, maybe you only make fifty, sixty, or eighty. In any case, it’s less than before. If it were you, would you like that?”

Of course she wouldn’t. Lin Yining understood now — if her pocket money got cut for some reason, she’d be sulking too.

This couldn’t be done that way.

She rolled her eyes. “Then just introduce Auntie Gao to some other business besides clothes.”

Yu Xiang’an: “And what business do you think that should be?”

Lin Yining: “Besides clothes, there’s a lot… like…”

After counting, Lin Yining realized most of her mom’s businesses were food-related. Other things, like hotels or real estate, weren’t really suitable for Auntie Gao.

Yu Xiang’an: “Selling food is possible, but with her personality, she wouldn’t want to do that.” That would make it hard to keep things equal.

This wasn’t like Ye Qijia’s situation — she was her real sister-in-law, so the earnings were all in the family, and she didn’t have too many other thoughts about accepting help. Friends, though, needed careful balance.

Yu Xiang’an: “I want her to come see for herself. It’s not far — if she sees it with her own eyes, she’ll probably know what’s realistic.”

Yu Qingshan also thought having Gao Yimei see for herself was best. Friendship was often about equal footing; if the gap got too big or the help too generous, it would be hard to keep the original closeness.

After receiving Yu Xiang’an’s letter, Gao Yimei came — alone. Zhang Dashi wasn’t comfortable with her traveling by herself, but she wanted to save the cost of an extra train ticket.

She was a grown woman, the distance wasn’t far, what could happen?

Once she arrived, she’d call him to let him know she was safe.

Yu Xiang’an and Gao Yimei had kept in touch and were on good terms. Knowing her train time, Yu Xiang’an met her at the station.

As soon as she stepped out and saw Yu Xiang’an, Gao Yimei smiled. “Let me call home first to let them know I’m safe.”

Phone calls weren’t cheap, so after saying five words — “I’ve arrived, I’m fine” — she hung up.

Short and simple.

Yu Xiang’an took her luggage. “This way, come with me.”

Gao Yimei followed. “Where to?”

Yu Xiang’an: “I parked outside.”

Gao Yimei: “…A car? You really kept this under wraps. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Yu Xiang’an shrugged. “Didn’t want to hear too much nagging. At first, even my dad didn’t know — I just did it and told him after.”

Even her dad hadn’t known? Gao Yimei could only give a thumbs-up.

“When your dad found out, he must have been shocked?”

Yu Xiang’an laughed. “Not too bad, not too bad.”

“Yeah right,” Gao Yimei snorted. If her own three kids pulled a stunt like that, she’d have a pounding headache — she wasn’t sure her heart could handle hearing their reasons.

Yu Xiang’an felt that was just prejudice. She pointed to her car. “You think this isn’t worth it? Think about it — if I’d followed the standard path, how many years would it take before I could drive this? And even then, it wouldn’t be mine, just something I used.”

“Of course, by then it wouldn’t just be about the car. But we all know what we’re suited for — some lives look glamorous but are too painful.”

She knew herself well.

Gao Yimei hadn’t expected it to be a four-wheeler. She thought it would be a three-wheeler, but it turned out to be a sedan!

“You’re not showing off on purpose? I’ve never lived that kind of life — how would I know if it suits you?”

Yu Xiang’an: “Just think of something you couldn’t stand doing, then imagine doing it day after day for decades. Could you?”

Gao Yimei shook her head. “No.” Even without going far, just staying with Zhang Dashi’s family in the countryside for a few days was her limit — and she avoided helping in the fields whenever possible.

Spending decades in the fields, dealing with leeches, scorching sun, and rice husks? No way.

She was starting to understand.

They opened the car doors, loaded the luggage, and got in. Gao Yimei’s attention shifted to the car. “This really yours?”

Yu Xiang’an: “Yep. It’s in my name.”

Gao Yimei clicked her tongue in admiration. “Other than being envious, I don’t know what else to say.” If she had to choose, she would also choose to go into business!

But she also knew exactly what she was capable of, and she knew she didn’t have that kind of ability.

Yu Xiangan first took her to the Five Flavors Restaurant. It wasn’t quite a hotel, but seeing the crowd inside, Gao Yimei wasn’t surprised at all. “I always knew you were good at this. I thought that if you applied at a state-owned restaurant, you might even get a job there. Now, would you say what I said back then has come true?”

Yu Xiangan laughed. “Hahaha, thanks for the compliment, hahaha.” She was genuinely happy.

They found a free seat and sat down. “Let’s order first. After we eat and rest a bit, I’ll take you to the market.”

Yu Xiangan said, “Order whatever you want. I’m the host, so don’t be polite with me.”

“I won’t be polite.” From the moment she saw Yu Xiangan’s car, Gao Yimei could tell just how well-off she was now. She ordered fried chicken nuggets, a char siu beef platter, and a red date chicken soup.

Yu Xiangan ordered chicken rice and a fruit juice.

Since everything was pre-made, the food came quickly.

Gao Yimei looked around. In Baishi County, you wouldn’t see this scene. First, everyone there spoke the same language. But here, some people spoke halting Mandarin, others spoke in dialects she couldn’t understand—apparently from Fujian. What they all had in common was the look of satisfaction when they took a bite.

“If they came during a lunch break, they wouldn’t have to wait long. They could eat quickly and still make it back to work,” Gao Yimei said.

“Yes, it doesn’t delay anything…”

They ate slowly as they talked, letting Gao Yimei rest after her train ride. As mealtime hit, more and more people came in, and strangers began sharing tables to enjoy their meals.

After taking in the lively scene, they headed to the wholesale market street.

It was called a “street,” but it was a chaotic mix: clothes, electronics, radios, hair clips, small jewelry—piled up in no particular order, waiting for customers to pick out the gems.

Gao Yimei’s eyes darted everywhere. Everything was so cheap. Pants she’d seen for 30 yuan were only 16 here! A digital watch was 5 or 6 yuan instead of 12. Hair clips she’d seen for 0.5 yuan each were 0.15 here, or 5 for 0.1 yuan!

These small, inexpensive items seemed perfect for her current tight finances. She didn’t have much capital. It was fine to ask Yu Xiangan for advice, but borrowing money from her would feel wrong. It was better to keep things separate.

She formed a tentative plan but didn’t buy anything yet, instead walking the whole market to observe.

It was crowded. She saw how others did wholesale—pushing small carts, hauling big sacks. When a seller brought out new jeans, people swarmed over. Whoever grabbed first got them; slow hands got nothing.

They stayed close but were eventually pushed aside. She heard someone shouting, “Don’t step on me! My shoe! My shoe’s gone!”

Someone else yelled in a shrill voice, “Whose dirty hand just reached into my pocket and took my change? Who takes advantage like that? May you have a son without an—” followed by a string of colorful curses.

Pushed to the edge, Gao Yimei noticed the wrinkles in Yu Xiangan’s clothes and burst out laughing. “Hahaha, you don’t come here much, do you?”

Yu Xiangan gave a wry smile and tugged at the creases. “No, I rarely squeeze in like this.”

“Things are so cheap here—don’t you shop?”

“My dad likes coming here, and so does my aunt. They buy in bulk and get wholesale prices even without a wholesale license.”

“When I make money, I’ll come here too,” Gao Yimei said. She could buy all her kids’ clothes for the year at once, saving a lot.

“Of course. So, have you decided?”

“Yes.” The highest profits were in appliances, but the capital was too high. Hair clips and hair ties suited her better.

“Good. If you run into any trouble, don’t hesitate to ask me. Back when I was in the factory, you introduced a lot of business to me. Now it’s my turn to help you.”

Back then, Gao Yimei had secretly promoted Yu Xiangan’s sauces among her coworkers, earning her a lot of pocket money.

Laughing, Gao Yimei said, “It’s the same group now. Back then, they were unmarried girls. Now they’re mothers. Before, they bought food for themselves; now they buy for their daughters.”

When they left, Gao Yimei was carrying a bag of hair accessories—lightweight, cheap, and perfect for her situation.

By then, it was nearly dark. Yu Xiangan wouldn’t let her rush home. It was safer to stay the night.

Gao Yimei, tired from the day, didn’t refuse. She was also curious about Yu Xiangan’s home.

When she saw it, her jaw dropped. It was like something from the movies—a color TV, a refrigerator, a soft sofa.

“Where are the kids?”

“They’re in Yangcheng. They don’t come every week.”

“You’re willing to be apart?”

“At first it was hard, but you get used to it. Kids grow up and leave eventually.”

Maybe that was why she could succeed—something Gao Yimei admitted she couldn’t do.

When Zhang Dashí came to fetch her the next day, he finally relaxed. “What did you buy?”

“You’ll see when we get home.”

Back home, seeing the delicate little trinkets, Zhang Dashí was skeptical. “Will these even sell? They’re not food or necessities.”

“Just watch,” she said, rolling her eyes.

It wasn’t whether they would sell—they were in demand.

With varied designs not available in the county, word spread quickly among young women, especially working unmarried ones willing to spend on themselves.

Cheap items sold for a profit of 0.05 to 0.1 yuan each. Sell ten, and you’d make 0.5 to 1 yuan. Sell a hundred, and it was 5 to 10 yuan. Some items brought in dozens of yuan at once—enough to match a month’s wages.

Factoring in her other pricier goods, after deducting travel costs, she could earn the equivalent of two people’s salaries in a month just by going to the special economic zone once!

Zhang Dashí was stunned. Was the world really like this now—making that much just by one monthly trip?

🌱🌿 🫧🍃

Ch 94: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Yuan Yang was indeed inclined to agree, but before she gave her answer, she spoke bluntly. “I want to see your sincerity first. If you’re not capable, my current life has been hard-won. If you strike the snake but don’t kill it, the one who dies will be me.”

Yu Xiangan nodded. “Do you want to stay in Shanghai in the future, or go somewhere else to start over? Or do you want to go abroad? I can arrange it.”

A flash of surprise crossed Yuan Yang’s eyes. Go abroad? She had never thought about it. These days, many people were thinking of going overseas. Did she want to go abroad? Thinking of the language barrier and her two children, she shook her head inwardly. “I’ve heard a lot of people go to the Special Economic Zone to make a living. You’re also over there.”

Yu Xiangan said, “Yes, I used to work for the government, but later went into business. Now my business has some scale.”

“Then I want to settle in the Special Zone.”

“No problem at all,” Yu Xiangan replied. “Words alone aren’t proof. Let me show you.”

They brought Tao Yan and Yuan Yang to her eldest brother and sister-in-law’s home. They lived in a family housing compound, allocated to them back then. Although they had since been transferred elsewhere, the years of service meant the apartment had not been reclaimed—it was now theirs.

The compound had a gatekeeper. At the gate, Yu Xiangan chatted with the old doorman. “Uncle, do you remember me? I was here earlier today.”

The old man raised his eyelids. “I remember. I’ve seen you before. These two, I haven’t.” He pointed at Yuan Yang and Tao Yan.

Yu Xiangan smiled. “You have a good eye, Uncle. Yes, these two are here for the first time. Has my sister-in-law come back?”

Pleased by the compliment, the doorman nodded. “She came back just a short while ago. I saw her carrying a basket of groceries. She’s probably cooking now.”

“Aren’t you going to eat, Uncle?” Yu Xiangan asked.

“I’ll wait. My wife will bring my meal. This is my post—I can’t just leave it,” the old man replied.

Tao Yan and Yuan Yang listened silently. Yu Xiangan continued, “When was the last time my elder brother came back? This is his first trip to Shanghai in years. Back when he worked here, he wanted to visit but was always busy.”

The old man waved his hand. “Work comes first. The last time was a while ago, around your nephew’s birthday, I think. He didn’t stay the night—just had a meal and left. He’s becoming more and more like District Chief Lin. He’s in university now. In a couple of years, when he graduates, he’ll be assigned to a good post.”

Yu Xiangan said, “He’s too busy—managing a development zone.”

“Ah, the kind of busy many would envy,” the doorman said, implying he held real power.

Yu Xiangan smiled. “Fortunately, the children’s maternal family helps look after them.”

“That’s right. Your sister-in-law is also remarkable—a real strong woman,” the old man said.

From the conversation, Yuan Yang and Tao Yan gathered several points: First, Yu Xiangan’s elder brother oversaw a district—an important position. Second, the nephew was in university, and the sister-in-law also worked in the system—a respectable family. And this doorman clearly wasn’t in on any deception. If they had this much influence, they wouldn’t need to lie.

As they walked inside, people greeted them along the way, showing that Lin Guangbai and Yun Jing were well liked here. If they weren’t, distant relatives visiting wouldn’t get such a warm reception. Tao Yan and Yuan Yang didn’t know everyone, but they recognized a few faces. The identities seemed genuine, and their doubts eased.

Inside, Yun Jing came out of the kitchen upon hearing them. “Did you find the person you were looking for?”

Yu Xiangan said, “Yes, here they are.”

The small two-bedroom quickly filled with people. Lin Yuejing came out of her room and called, “Second Aunt.”

Yun Jing told her, “Go make tea. Everyone, have a seat. I can’t leave the kitchen yet—I’ll join you soon.”

Yu Xiangqing rolled up her sleeves. “Sister-in-law, I’ll help.”

Coincidentally, Tao Yan recognized Yun Jing’s face. She knew this woman had strong backing, and that she and her husband had risen smoothly through the ranks. Tao Yan had seen her before, though they’d never spoken. Now she learned that Yun Jing was Yu Xiangan’s sister-in-law—practically close family. With such backing, fair handling was not too much to hope for. She gave Yuan Yang a meaningful glance.

Soon, Yun Jing came out, sent Lin Yuejing back to her room to study, and sat down. After a few polite words of introduction, they got to the point.

Yuan Yang said, “I’ve long wanted them to be punished by the law. I can testify—I do have some evidence. But if this becomes public, we can’t stay here. I want to go to the Special Zone. Also, I have a son in Yuqian Village. I’ve had four children; I won’t concern myself with the last two, but my eldest son is innocent. He’s been held there. He’s young, and they’ve spoken against me to him so often that… he hates me. When I tried to take him away, he refused. But it’s not safe for him there.”

If she made too much noise, her son could be harmed.

Yu Xiangan said, “Heaven sees all, and the law is just. You have your grievance, and we have ours. Use the law to defend your rights, and we’ll support you. You’re in difficulty now—by coincidence, I have an empty old apartment in the Special Zone, two bedrooms and a living room. It’s sitting unused. There are many jobs there; even without skills, you can work in logistics or cleaning—over thirty a month at minimum. What’s your son’s name? My brother lives nearby—he should be able to bring him over. Once this is over, I can introduce you to work. Your daughter’s still young; she can learn more and earn better wages later.”

Yu Xiangan didn’t want to miss this chance. The events involving Yu Xianghe had happened too long ago, with no evidence—it would be hard to imprison anyone. But Yuan Yang’s case was different. She was alive. Many people knew her, and she had two children. If enough victims were involved, it could attract a special investigation from above. Then no one from top to bottom could escape.

Yuan Yang said, “It all sounds good, but until it’s done, I can’t trust you.”

Yu Xiangan replied, “About your son, I’ll have someone bring him. As for the apartment, do you have time? I can take you there to transfer ownership, and we can also arrange your daughter’s schooling. Once she’s in school, we can work on our business. The Special Zone has many people and much turnover—if you don’t speak of your past, few will know it.”

To reassure her, Yu Xiangan took her to the Special Zone, transferred the apartment to her, enrolled her daughter in a bookkeeping course and paid the tuition, placed her son in a factory as an apprentice with food and lodging, and gave her a sum of money.

Yuan Yang didn’t run. She knew a lot. Before she escaped, she was aware of 28 female educated youths who had suffered abuse—nine were dead, and the rest kept silent.

When Yu Xianghai’s group forcibly brought back a young man who refused to leave, she wrote out a full list of names, tidied herself up, and, with her prepared list and evidence, walked into the provincial disciplinary commission.

From here on, the road was no longer something Yu Xiang’an and the others could control.

Lin Houpu made a few phone calls and reassured them—since the other party had indeed committed these acts, they should forget about walking away unscathed.

The case was being processed, and no specific details would be leaked. Everyone made a trip back to the village, burned incense before Yu Xianghe’s grave, and told her about the matter.

Life then returned to normal, though Yu Qingshan often went to Yuan Yang’s home to help look after her daughter and son.

The daughter still didn’t like to talk, but she stayed busy learning new things and carried a bit more liveliness about her.

Yuan Yang’s son, having grown up listening to malicious gossip about his mother, was deeply hostile toward her.

He believed she was a bad woman.

Yet toward his little sister, he wasn’t cold—he worried she might be bullied and would drop by to check on her during his breaks.

Yu Qingshan never told him how many things his mother had been forced to endure for their sake, how much she had silently borne. He just quietly watched them.

Yu Xiang’an suspected he was probably thinking of Yu Xianghe when he looked at them.

Such pain could only be eased once the enemies’ final downfall was seen. Now, they simply had to wait.

Lin Yihong and Lin Yining knew their grandfather had been in low spirits lately, so as soon as vacation started, they came over to keep him company—sometimes even bringing classmates along.

For example, Chen Yi and Wang Lipan, who were close with Lin Yining, and Zhuo Mingwei, who was close with Lin Yihong.

With children running around at home, it was hard to dwell on dark thoughts.

From time to time, they’d pipe up with things like:
“Grandpa, I want to eat roasted sweet potatoes.”
“Grandpa, my teacher said my violin has improved. Can you listen and see if it’s true?”
“Look at my drawing—does it look like us? I drew our family.”

Except when they were asleep, the house was never quiet.

Zhuo Mingwei’s family situation was similar—his family also did business. He kept a low profile, but when his father picked him up from school in a small car one day, the twins happened to see. Even though Zhuo Mingwei had walked a stretch before getting in, it was pure coincidence they caught sight of it.

As for why he walked partway—it was clear he didn’t want to attract attention.

Because Lin Yihong and Zhuo Mingwei sat one in front of the other, and their family circumstances were similar, they ended up playing together often. When Lin Yihong invited him over, Zhuo agreed right away.

Wang Lipan had never said what his family did, but everyone could pretty much guess—he gave off a strong military family air.

Among the three visiting classmates, the least well-off was Chen Yi, but even his family had turned a corner. His mother’s surgery had been successful, and with no more illness, the family could save money. Life wasn’t luxurious, but it was decent.

With these children around, who made one want to smile just by looking at them, Yu Qingshan’s mood greatly improved.

Seeing how hard they worked, he didn’t want them to worry about him.

Besides, they were in sixth grade now—middle school was next year. Yu Qingshan still couldn’t quite understand why the education system had changed from 5-2-2 to 6-3-3. Before, it was only nine years until high school graduation; now it was twelve, meaning three fewer years of earning money. But he had to admit, the students really were learning more now.

If they wanted to get into a good middle school, their grades couldn’t slip.

If they kept worrying about him, they’d have less focus for studying.

Housing prices in Hong Kong had risen—over ten percent in a short time. Because of this good news, Yu Yegui invited them to visit Hong Kong.

Thanks to Yu Xiang’an’s earlier advice, he had bought two apartments there, and their value had risen nicely, with no sign of slowing.

It was a good thing. Yu Xiang’an couldn’t go due to other matters, so Yu Qingshan took Lin Yihong and Lin Yining instead. The twins were no longer little, and with good nutrition, they’d shot up in height. There wasn’t much to worry about.

They made the trip there and back in one day, so there weren’t big safety concerns.

On the way back, the twins chattered excitedly—they had gone to a concert, a play, and even the circus, all first-time experiences for them.

Yu Qingshan sighed, “No wonder so many people once risked their lives to get over there. Hong Kong’s development really is ahead of ours.”

Looking at the skyscrapers, the cars, and the blond-haired, blue-eyed people who were nothing unusual there—this was an international city.

Yu Xiang’an said firmly, “We’ll catch up and surpass them.”

Yu Qingshan wasn’t so optimistic. “Hopefully. If that day really comes, that would be great.”

Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai exchanged a glance: it would come—and it wouldn’t be far off.

During this time, Yu Xiang’an added a new product to their offerings: instant noodles. Later, instant noodles would come in many varieties, but for now, choices were few.

Yu Xiang’an launched three flavors—braised beef, scallion pork rib, and spicy chicken chunks.

The business was booming.

How booming? So booming that Yu Xiang’an had to quickly pull in Yu Mansheng to help speed up factory expansion, because the existing facilities couldn’t keep up.

She hadn’t actually planned to get into this business—it was hard to get equipment at this time, and you couldn’t always get what you wanted. But a client happened to have instant noodle-making equipment for sale. Yu Xiang’an wasn’t about to miss the opportunity, so she went for it.

The results exceeded expectations.

Besides children drawn in by the irresistible smell, some customers bought them by the box—truck drivers, for example.

On the road, drivers often couldn’t find places to eat, relying on dry rations that weren’t very good. Only when they came across someone’s home could they get a hot meal. But with instant noodles, it was different.

Bring matches, a pot, and water—boil it, and the noodles are ready. Or use a thermos with good insulation and they’d soften just fine. The aroma was so strong and enticing that even if they weren’t gourmet-level, most people couldn’t resist.

Even the twins, who’d had plenty of good food, couldn’t hold out—they spent all their pocket money on instant noodles. Their classmates were just as obsessed.

And they were especially keen on collecting the cards inside the packets.

Each card was one of the twelve zodiac animals, with ten color variations each. Anyone who completed a full set could win a bicycle.

With that carrot dangling, no one wanted to throw the cards away—they stored them carefully.

The twins had already collected over forty different ones, Wang Lipan over thirty, and Zhuo Mingwei the most, with more than eighty.

If a household bought a whole box, it would soon be picked clean—no matter where it was hidden, the children would rummage through everything to find the cards, even at the risk of a scolding.

Chen Xiaoyang also knew the instant noodles were selling like crazy. She herself had never tasted them, nor any other brand’s.

Luckily, her work team had been named “Active Model Group” last month, and each member was given a box.

This award went to the group that outperformed others in several categories, the main one being production volume, followed by defect rate, cleanliness, and waste. Scores were weighted to produce a final total, and the top-scoring group earned the “Active Model” title.

It didn’t come with a raise or bonus, but there was always a prize—different every time.

The last time, the prize had been a pair of cups; the time before that, it was a new bedsheet. This time, the prize was a small box of instant noodles.

Compared to other foods, instant noodles were relatively expensive. Chen Xiaoyang, who had always been frugal, had never bought any—she couldn’t bring herself to spend the money.

Now that she’d been given some as a prize, she couldn’t help but open a pack to try it out, curious to see what those so highly praised instant noodles actually tasted like.

One bite, and she was hooked.

At first, she only meant to open one pack and save the rest to take home, but before she realized it, day by day, she had eaten through nearly half the box. Feeling a bit guilty and conflicted, she sighed—well, since they were already eaten, she could only take the remaining half home.

She was frugal, but her family was even more so.

Although the family could now eat their fill thanks to farming, there were many children, and they were saving up to build a house, so life was far from comfortable. She had tried to persuade them to find jobs outside, but they always refused, saying they didn’t know how to do anything else, farming was steady, and with too few hands in the fields, the harvest would suffer. No matter how she argued, it always came back to the same reason, and she had no way to change their minds.

In this situation, instant noodles were a luxury for the family.

Most of the time, treats for the children were candies—cheap ones, the kind that cost only a single fen each.

Instant noodles, on the other hand, cost several mao per pack, and the portions were so small that for an adult, one pack was barely a mouthful, and even a child wouldn’t be full.

When she brought the half-box home, her mother immediately put them away, but it was already too late—one of her nephews had seen them and shouted at the top of his lungs, “It’s instant noodles! Grandma, I want to eat instant noodles!”

The moment he said it, all the nephews came swarming over—one clinging to an arm, one around a waist, one around a leg. Her mother froze on the spot, unable to move, and shouted angrily, “You greedy little brats, get off me right now! If you don’t, I’ll lock them all up and not let you have a single pack!”

But this only made them cheer. “We’ll be good! Let’s eat them today, Grandma—you’re the best!”

Her mother could only mutter helplessly, “Eat, eat, all you know how to do is eat. The things aren’t even warm in my hands yet and you’re tearing into them. Useless at everything but eating—must be paying off a debt from my past life.”

She put the rest back in the cupboard and took out one pack. Seeing so many children in the house, she hesitated, then took out another.

When she brought them out, Chen Xiaoyang reminded her, “Mom, add some greens, and an egg, and sprinkle some chopped scallions.”

“An egg too?” her mother grumbled, but still took two eggs, beat them, and made an egg drop. Cooking instant noodles was quick and simple: once the water boiled, she added the vegetables, noodles, and seasonings, waited a bit, and it was ready. Chen Xiaoyang timed it, then lifted the lid, fished out a strand with her chopsticks to taste, and said, “Alright, it’s done.”

The aroma was so overpowering that even her mother couldn’t resist. “Let me taste it too,” she said, picking up a bite, chewing, and nodding in satisfaction. “Not bad at all—just right, not too salty, not too bland.”

A chorus of gulps sounded around them.

Chen Xiaoyang served each nephew a single chopstickful of noodles—no more than that—and a little soup.

Only this way could everyone have a taste. When the noodles were gone but the broth remained, her mother, unwilling to waste it, grabbed a handful of wheat noodles and tossed them in. “This broth is good stuff. Cook some regular noodles in it and it’s almost the same.”

Before long, her brothers and sisters-in-law returned from the fields. Each of them was served a small bowl of noodles, the smell making their mouths water.

The instant noodles tempted not only the children but the adults as well.

“What kind of noodles are these? Smells amazing.”

“Of course it smells good,” Chen Xiaoyang said with a grin. “This is cooked in instant noodle broth. The noodles themselves were for the kids, and Mom used the leftover soup for these.”

“Where did you get instant noodles?”

“They were a reward for good performance,” she explained.

“Your factory has such good benefits? Will there be more next month?”

“It’s not regular,” she said. “This time our team did especially well, so we got them.”

Her nephews, realizing there was little hope of getting more, now longed even more for the ones locked away in the cupboard.

Thinking of the few packs she still had in her dormitory, Chen Xiaoyang swallowed discreetly—at least she could still satisfy her own craving a bit.

Content after sharing the fragrant instant noodles with her family, she returned to work with renewed energy. While working, she noticed the factory director come by to ask about output. After hearing something, he hurried off. Later, at mealtime, she overheard others saying the boss and her father had both left in a rush—perhaps for another big business deal.

Chen Xiaoyang instinctively felt it wasn’t that.

The look on the boss’s face had been one of excitement, but restrained—complicated.

It seemed personal.

And indeed, it was.

After a period of secret investigation, the final results were in—they had gone to see certain people off on their last journey.

Heaven has eyes; retribution never fails.

Justice had been delayed for so long—now, at last, it had arrived.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃

Ch 93: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Fang Shengli could only tell Yu Xianghe’s family what she knew. She had no evidence in her hands — the only thing she had once hidden was a letter from Yu Xianghe to Yu Qingshan and the others pleading for help. If that letter had survived, it would have been useful, but in the end it had been burned.

Fang Shengli said, “You should go to Shanghai and find Tao Yan. She was the smartest among us. She was almost caught by the village Party secretary, but she found another way out for herself.” Though the price she paid was the same, instead of submitting to the Party secretary, she turned to a commune cadre, secured herself a job, and in the end returned to Shanghai in one piece. “Without a doubt, she’s resourceful. Maybe she still has something left.”

Meanwhile, in the capital, Wen Ruzhen brought a bowl of porridge into the room where Yu Xiangyan was scribbling something. “You still haven’t eaten. If you keep this up, your body won’t hold out. I know you want to find the evidence quickly, but if you collapse, what will happen then?”

Hearing her persuasion, Yu Xiangyan put down his pen and rubbed his brow. “Sorry to make you worry.”

Wen Ruzhen sighed. “What silly thing are you saying? We’re husband and wife. Of course I’m anxious too when something like this happens. But no matter how anxious you are, you can’t skip meals. People are iron, rice is steel — if you don’t eat, your body will give out. Don’t worry so much. This matter will not just be left alone.”

“We’ll help on our side. My brother has many classmates in government. They might not be in that specific area, but some are nearby. I’ve already asked him to dig into who’s backing them. He said he’ll get back to us as soon as he has news.”

Yu Xiangyan took her hand. “We’re troubling him.”

She nudged him. “What nonsense — we’re all family. Hasn’t he troubled you enough as a brother-in-law in the past? Now he finally has a chance to help, so don’t say that. All right, stop talking and drink your porridge.”

She was very beautiful herself. When they were sent to the countryside, she and her brother had been in great danger too. If it weren’t for Yu Xiangyan — tall, strong, and devoted to her — she didn’t know if she might have suffered the same fate.

In the countryside, it was all too easy for someone with a bit of local power to crush an outsider.

They decided what work you did in the fields, and if they gave you only heavy, exhausting jobs, your body would wear down. Without enough to eat, your health would collapse. Given the rural medical conditions, even without malicious intent, one serious illness was already a tug-of-war with death — and if they meant harm, the outcome was far worse.

Now, hearing of the fate of Yu Xianghe — a sister-in-law she had never met — Wen Ruzhen felt nothing but fear and dread.

Just after Yu Xiangyan finished the porridge, their daughter Yu Xiyi came in with a cup of sugar water. She watched as he took it from her and told him, “Daddy, drink it all.”

Looking at his eldest daughter’s stubborn little face, Yu Xiangyan touched his belly. “Alright, alright, I’ll finish it.”

Once she saw him drink it all, she nodded in satisfaction. “Daddy, we’re all being good. You just work hard. We won’t make you and Mommy worry.”

The three children didn’t know exactly what had happened, but they could sense the change in the household atmosphere.

As the eldest, Yu Xiyi kept her younger siblings in line so they wouldn’t cause trouble.

Yu Xiangyan stroked her hair. Looking at her face — so much like her mother’s, with beauty already clear from childhood — his heart ached even more.

Scum like that didn’t deserve to keep living.

He had his own classmates and connections too. Even from far away, he could help. If they had solid evidence, it wouldn’t matter who was backing the culprit — no one could cover the sky with one hand.

Wen Yizhen was also doing all he could. He and his sister had always benefited from the Yu family’s help, and he remembered it well. Before he was married, much of his money had gone to his sister and her children — one, because they were his sister’s kids, and two, because it was his way of repaying their kindness. Now that he had a chance to help in a meaningful way, he wasn’t about to just offer words.

He even told his wife about the matter. She worked in the government health system and had heard of more than one such case.

Her attitude matched his: “People like that should be stripped of their false face and exposed under the sun.”

Even Wen Ruzhen’s father, Wen Yanjun, was helping. When he heard about it, a cold sweat broke out over him.

Years ago, he had dreamed such a nightmare — back when he was in reform through labor. In it, his daughter’s beauty caught the eye of a local thug, who tried to force her to marry. She refused, and of course her brother wouldn’t stand by, so he was beaten to death on the spot. His daughter was forced into the bridal chamber, and the next morning, she hanged herself. The dream ended there, with him waking in horror. And now, in reality, it had happened to someone else, with almost the same ending.

Lin Chuanbai was not idle either. This was his own family, and he couldn’t ignore it. He went back to Qin City to speak with Lin Houpou, who had since been promoted.

Lin Houpou had transferred from the army, as had many of his comrades, now posted across the country. There wasn’t anyone in the town where Yushu Village was located, but there was someone in the city it fell under.

When he heard the story, Lin Houpou clenched his fists. “Outrageous!”

After venting his anger for a moment, he asked, “Do you have evidence? If you do, there’s no need to worry — anyone who did it will face the consequences. But without evidence, it’s difficult. A few verbal testimonies alone won’t stand up as proof.”

“They’re already looking for it,” Lin Chuanbai said.

Lin Houpou was pessimistic about finding evidence. “After so many years, it’ll be hard. But men with such vices rarely reform completely. Even if there are no educated youths now, other young girls might still suffer. I’ll get my comrades to help. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

If the man hadn’t stopped his behavior, who knew how many girls had been harmed over the years?

In Shanghai, Yu Xiangan and the others went to look for Tao Yan, but she had already moved.

Miao Hongxing was startled. “The last time we corresponded was three years ago.”

The person who told them about Tao Yan’s move eyed the strangers with suspicion. “Who are you to her? If you were close, she’d have told you where she went.”

They refused to say where she’d gone.

Unable to find her, Yu Xiangan’s group settled temporarily at a hotel. Then Yu Xiangan went to visit her elder brother and sister-in-law’s home in Shanghai.

Lin Guangbai had been transferred to the Yancheng Development Zone, and Yun Jing had later followed him there. But their two children still attended school in Shanghai, where the teaching resources were better, and they didn’t want to hinder their education.

Lin Guangbai and Yun Jing had two children — the elder, a son named Lin Qianjing, was at university in Shanghai; the younger, a daughter about the same age as the twins, was in primary school.

The children had been living with their maternal grandmother, but after Yun Jing returned, they went back to their parents’ home.

Pouring tea for everyone, Yun Jing said, “Xiang An, I’ve already made inquiries. We’ll have news soon.”

Yu Xiangan sighed. “Even if we find her, I don’t know if she’ll have any evidence for us.”

“She will,” Yun Jing said with conviction. “And even if she doesn’t, a man like that will slip up sooner or later. Once we find the trail, we’ll pull in the whole net.”

She spoke with a fierce determination, her expression like that of a wrathful guardian.

And indeed, news came quickly.

They had obtained Tao Yan’s new address, along with her record since returning to the city.

She had come back in 1979, and the following year married a trade union cadre a few years her senior, whose wife had died in childbirth. Before the one-child policy was implemented, she had two children. Now both husband and wife were respectable, grain-salary earners. The reason they had moved was due to job transfers, which also meant a change in housing. No one around them knew about Tao Yan’s past.

Knowing this, Yu Xiangan frowned.

Someone with such concerns would think about many things. If nothing else, just for the sake of her children not being gossiped about, she would never want anyone to know what she had experienced during her years in the countryside.

Following the address, Yu Xiangan and the others went over. After waiting a while, they saw Tao Yan at the door, holding a child’s hand and returning from buying vegetables.

Looking at her face, Yu Xiangan found it somewhat familiar. Yu Qingshan noticed it too. They exchanged a glance and remembered — she bore a resemblance to Ruan Chenxi, though Tao Yan was more refined. Even in a loose, shapeless factory uniform, she was the sort of woman who could draw a second glance in a crowd.

She saw Miao Hongxing first, and her expression shifted slightly, just as some elderly women chatting at the door called out, “You’re back! You’ve got guests today — they’ve been waiting a while. Are they relatives from your mother’s side?”

Tao Yan’s eyes flicked over Yu Xiangan and Yu Qingshan. After three seconds of silence, she smiled and said, “No, this is an old classmate. Goodness, I hardly recognized them — it’s been so many years. We have a lot to catch up on. Auntie, I’m going to see another classmate with them. Could you watch the kids for me? When their dad gets back, tell him I’m with classmates today — I might be at my mother’s tonight.”

“Alright!”

Miao Hongxing smiled cooperatively. “Let’s go.”

Tao Yan led them through a couple of turns, eventually arriving at a weed-choked, dilapidated courtyard.

If any locals had seen them, they would have looked on in admiration — this was the infamous “haunted house,” a place no one dared approach.

“It’s safe to talk here. Why have you come?”

Miao Hongxing gave a bitter smile. “I brought them to you. They’re Xianghe’s family — they want justice for her.”

Yu Qingshan said, “I’m her father.”

Yu Xiangqing and Yu Xiangan added, “We’re her sisters.”

Tao Yan studied their faces for a long time. “Justice? That’s easy to say. It’s been so many years, and their power in that place isn’t simple.”

Her face was indifferent.

“You should be careful. Don’t say I didn’t warn you — if you don’t have something solid, you might get yourselves dragged down.”

Yu Xiangqing replied, “I don’t believe such darkness can run rampant forever. If necessary, I can submit an article to the newspaper under my real name. I’m a high school teacher, my father is a retired worker, my eldest brother is also a worker, my second brother is a cadre in the capital, and my younger sister graduated from a university in the capital with contacts inside the system. With so many people, I don’t believe they can block everything!”

Tao Yan’s gaze swept over their clothing, and her expression softened slightly.

“Having lived with her, ask me what you want now. Once we leave here, I won’t acknowledge anything you say. Today I’m just talking with an old classmate — anything you claim I said, I’ll deny.”

Since returning from the countryside, she had married. If people she knew learned of her shameful past, her family might be ruined.

So she was willing to tell them, but she would not testify, nor accompany them to seek evidence or justice.

If they called her selfish, she would accept that — but she would not step forward.

Her meaning was firm: she could share some information, but that was all. Publicly, she knew nothing.

This was not surprising.

Could anyone really say she was wrong? How many people these days could ignore such consequences?

She was not like Miao Hongxing, who had never suffered that particular abuse, and thus could fully understand the Yu family’s anger and unwillingness. Tao Yan did not want her own life disrupted.

It had not been easy for her to escape that place. She cherished her current life and would not risk it.

She nodded toward Yu Qingshan. “Uncle Yu, you’re a parent — I’m a parent now too. I came back, married, and had two children. No one here knows what I went through. If this gets out, my children will be ruined.”

When she returned, people thought she had simply abandoned a rural husband and child — not uncommon among former educated youths. But if they knew the truth of her years there, they would look down on her and her children.

Other people’s gossip could harm children whose characters were not yet formed.

She would not take that risk.

Yu Qingshan’s throat worked. “I hope you can help us find evidence — we don’t have enough.”

Tao Yan shook her head. “I just know more than most. If you want evidence, I can’t help you. But while I can’t help directly, I can point you to someone who might. If you can pay the right price, she can help you reach your goal.”

Yu Qingshan felt disappointment at first, then sudden hope. “Who?”

“She wasn’t an educated youth in Yushu Village — she was in the neighboring village, sent down two years before us. But she went through the same thing. She was already married then, but it didn’t matter. Her husband was killed by wolves in the mountains, leaving her with two children. After he died, she had to support the family, but the brigade leader threatened her using the children, forcing her to be his mistress. He and Pan Wang were sworn brothers — the entire commune’s leadership was rotten to the core!”

As she spoke, Tao Yan grew agitated. “She’s not doing well now. If you give her enough money to remove her worries, she should agree to come forward. She’s also back in Shanghai, but she still has a son trapped there.”

“She has evidence. After her husband’s death, she had two more children — one looks like the brigade leader, the other like the town mayor. Those two children are living proof. And she may have kept other evidence as well.”

The group fell silent at the story. Even Miao Hongxing was wordless.

So the notorious ‘wild mandarin duck’ from the neighboring village was also from Shanghai.

Yu Xiangqing’s voice was dry. “If we just turn up at her door, she might not believe us.”

Tao Yan took a deep breath, regaining her composure. In just a few breaths, her face was calm again. “I can take you to her.”

No one wanted to dredge up past pain, but if doing so could bring her a stable life, Tao Yan knew that with Yuanyang’s temperament, she would not mind stepping up — especially with her son still there.

Those people were completely rotten.

If it hadn’t been impossible back then, Tao Yan would have tried to escape with her.

Yuanyang had married a local after a ‘hero rescues beauty’ incident not long after arriving in the countryside. In those days, she enjoyed two good years.

But her husband’s family was small and outsiders to the area, with no local roots. Once her husband had his accident, things turned grim.

Only she and her mother-in-law — two frail women — were left. How could they support a family?

All the more because she had a soft spot that could be exploited.

She had no choice but to give in — if she didn’t, she would suffer the same fate again, and her children would not survive either.

Later, she gave up caring about her reputation, and it was ruined anyway. But when the policies loosened, she immediately fled with her daughter, leaving behind her eldest son and the two sons she had borne afterward.

The eldest son couldn’t be taken — he was trapped there. As for the other two, they were living proof of her humiliation, and she had no wish to take them at all.

After escaping, she and her daughter endured a period of wandering and hardship. Her family home was here, but both her parents had passed away, and she had no relatives to rely on. She survived by making clothes for others, and life for mother and daughter was extremely difficult.

Tao Yan recounted Yuan Yang’s experience so Yu Xiangan and the others could understand her situation, then led them over to see her. No one spoke along the way.

It felt like each of their hearts was weighed down by a heavy stone.

Yu Qingshan thought about this girl named Yuan Yang. While he felt sorrow for what she had endured, he also thought that if it had been his own daughter… as a father, he would rather she live on in hardship, because living meant hope.

The past might eventually fade, but if life ended in youth, there would be no future at all.

When they arrived, Yuan Yang was at the well washing vegetables — the kind others threw away or used to feed chickens and pigs.

Her clothes were covered in patch upon patch, so layered that it was impossible to tell their original color. Both she and her daughter wore bangs that covered most of their faces.

Yu Xiangan, seeing their hairstyles, guessed the reason — they didn’t want to show their faces. Even here, in a familiar place, they dared not reveal themselves. Her daughter, now a grown girl, walked with a hunched back. When she saw the visitors, she instinctively hid behind her mother.

She seemed shy and wary of strangers.

Yuan Yang looked up at them, and Tao Yan stepped forward. “It’s me. I need to talk to you — somewhere we can speak freely.”

Yuan Yang paused in her washing, glanced at them, and nodded. Turning to her daughter, she said, “Keep cleaning those vegetables on the ground. I’m going to take them for a walk. When you’re done, go home.”

Her daughter didn’t say a word, only bowed her head deeply so they saw the back of her head, and nodded twice.

Yuan Yang stood up and walked away. Yu Xiangan and the others followed her down a deserted path. When they were alone, she stopped. “What is it?”

Tao Yan said, “You should remember her — Yu Xianghe, who lived in the same educated youth dorm as me back then. This is her family. They want justice for her, to avenge her.” Her tone was flat. “But it’s been so long. You know how hard it is to find evidence, so they came to ask if you have any leads.”

Yuan Yang was silent for a moment, glancing at Yu Qingshan and Yu Xiangan, then pulled Tao Yan aside. “Let’s talk first.”

Yu Xiangan watched them walk some distance away, their voices low and indistinct.

Miao Hongxing grew tense. Would this “wild mandarin duck” agree?

She admired this woman — a woman shunned by nearly all others there, who had survived so much and still fought to live. If this were brought into the open, it would be like ripping off an old scab and exposing raw flesh to public judgment.

She herself could never do it. She would rather die.

Yu Xiangqing clasped her hands tightly, watching them, and asked in a low voice, “Xiao An, do you think she’ll agree?” She felt torn — she desperately wanted revenge for her sister, but if there was no other evidence, it would mean forcing this woman to expose her shameful past, causing her great harm. For someone without the mental strength to endure, gossip alone could drive a person to their death.

Yet even so, she still hoped she would agree.

From her appearance, she could tell the woman’s family was struggling. Yu Xiangqing wasn’t wealthy, but she could contribute money to help — if only the woman would be willing to help them in return.

Yuan Yang’s suffering hadn’t happened in Yushu Village, but the people at the top were the same. If the protection above collapsed, the underlings would not be spared.

They would be rooted out completely.

Yu Xiangan looked at Yuan Yang’s clothes and thought of the girl she’d just seen. “I think she’ll agree — for her children.”

If life continued like this, what would happen to her daughter? And she still couldn’t let go of her eldest son left behind.

For the sake of both children, Yu Xiangan believed Yuan Yang would agree. As for gossip — the fact she could bear it long enough to return to Shanghai proved she had an iron will.

A woman like her, no matter how hard life was, would always find a way forward unless the path ahead was a sheer cliff.

Her son was being raised by his grandmother, living hand-to-mouth. Perhaps he even thought of her as a bad mother for abandoning him and leaving him to endure gossip with his sister. But the truth was, she had exhausted all her strength just to escape herself.

He had never been given a chance to leave, and his grandmother was a gullible woman who believed whatever people told her.

So they could offer to bring him to the Special Economic Zone, find him work, and give her a lump sum — enough to buy a home there for the whole family. The SEZ was open and bustling, full of strangers, where no one would know his past.

And the northeast… they would have to go there too.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃

Ch 92: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

Yu Xiangqing had already confirmed everything — Miao Hongxing was still with her. The latter said she had already told them the truth and had no reason to hide anything anymore. Besides, now that she had returned to the city, she no longer had to live under anyone’s thumb. All these years her conscience had been uneasy, and she also wanted that man to face the punishment he deserved.

Yu Xianghe wasn’t the only victim — there were others too. They had simply been too afraid to speak up.

There were other victims.

Yu Xiangan’s heart jolted. She didn’t wish for there to be more victims, but if there were living witnesses willing to testify, the case could become much clearer.

In Yu Xianghe’s situation, there was no evidence, and so many years had passed — the body had long been reduced to ashes. But these other victims were different.

Yu Xiangqing asked, “Xiao An, how should we tell Dad about this? If he finds out, he’ll definitely be heartbroken.”

Sometimes, when the whole family was together, their father would show a trace of sadness — because one family member was missing. The eldest daughter he had raised for over ten years was sent down to the countryside by policy, and less than a year later, she was gone.

Third Sister… she hadn’t died without cause.

At the mention of Yu Qingshan, Yu Xiangan could only sigh.

It would be hardest on him, but they couldn’t hide this from him.

After thinking it over, Yu Xiangan decided that when Yu Xiangqing and Yan Peng came back with Miao Hongxing, they could all tell Yu Qingshan together. Otherwise, if he found out while she was still away and wanted to ask more questions, she wouldn’t be able to answer. Better not let him spend the journey with his heart in suspense.

That evening at dinner, Yu Qingshan noticed Yu Xiangan’s distracted expression and asked, “What’s bothering you? You look like you’ve run into some trouble.”

Yu Xiangan forced a smile. “I just have some things I can’t figure out yet.”

Yu Qingshan said, “Oh, don’t worry. When the boat reaches the bridge, it will straighten itself out.”

The next day, Yu Xiangqing and Yan Peng returned with Miao Hongxing, and Yu Mansheng was called over early.

Looking at the unfamiliar face, Yu Qingshan asked, “Is this your friend, or a relative?”

With a thud, Miao Hongxing dropped to her knees. “I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry!”

Startled, Yu Qingshan hurried over to help her up. “Get up and speak properly, young lady. What could you possibly have done to wrong me? Don’t be like this.”

Looking at his face, Miao Hongxing felt deep shame. “I’m Miao Hongxing. I was also sent down to Yushu Village as an educated youth.”

At the name “Yushu Village,” Yu Qingshan’s expression changed — that was where his third daughter had been sent.

Yu Mansheng glanced at the silent Yu Xiangqing, Yan Peng, and Yu Xiangan, but didn’t step forward to help her up.

Miao Hongxing refused to rise. Because of the propriety between men and women, Yu Qingshan couldn’t physically pull her up, so he could only watch her kneeling as she spoke. “There’s something I hid before. All these years I’ve been tormented by my conscience.”

Speaking on her knees made her feel a little less burdened — but while her conscience eased, Yu Qingshan’s face turned paler and paler. When she recounted the true circumstances of Yu Xianghe’s death, he couldn’t catch his breath and fainted on the spot.

Yu Xiangan rushed to support him, with Yu Mansheng right behind.

“Second Uncle! Second Uncle!”

Yu Qingshan came to quickly, his eyes bloodshot. “What you said… is it true?”

Miao Hongxing covered her face and nodded. “It’s true, it’s true. I’m not the only one who knows. When she was sick, there were still marks on her body. We female educated youths took care of her together — we all knew.”

A tear slid quickly down Yu Qingshan’s cheek; he wiped it away, his voice hoarse. “You all knew. How many of you?”

Miao Hongxing took a deep breath. “There were five of us girls living in the educated youth dorm — me, Xianghe, and three others. Of the other three, one married locally, one used… other means to get into a cultural troupe in the commune, and the last returned to the city when educated youths were allowed to go back.”

She wiped her face. “Among us, the pretty ones — besides Yu Xianghe, there was Tao Yan. Xianghe caught the eye of the Party secretary’s son, Pan Hu; Tao Yan was targeted by the Party secretary himself. He was old enough to have a son older than us, and already had a wife. Tao Yan found a way… went to the commune, and I don’t know what kind of man she traded with, but she got herself a job in the cultural troupe.”

Her pause made it clear exactly what kind of “way” that was.

Hearing this tore at Yu Qingshan’s heart.

Miao Hongxing went on, “The three of us who were left weren’t attractive, we weren’t good at physical labor, and our families couldn’t help us — so nothing like that happened to us.

Before, I used to think it was unfair to be plain-looking, but after experiencing what happened down there, I was grateful my parents gave me an ordinary face.”

Yu Mansheng’s throat felt blocked; he cleared it and asked, “Didn’t you think of going to the police? Or to the educated youth office?”

Miao Hongxing gave a bitter laugh. “How? Without a letter of introduction, we couldn’t even leave. There was only one road out, and the Party secretary’s family lived right at the village entrance. Half the village were their relatives. Even at the commune, they had connections — the Party secretary’s brother-in-law was the town mayor. What could we do?”

A powerful outsider couldn’t overpower a local tyrant — and they weren’t even outsiders with power, just tiny shrimp.

Yu Qingshan wiped his face. “When I went… to collect the body, the doctor I found…”

“That doctor was also the Party secretary’s relative,” Miao Hongxing said. “Pan Hu made it known that if she didn’t agree to marry him, they wouldn’t treat her. The medicine prescribed was useless. We begged them, but the drugs never changed and never worked. Pan Hu kept coming to pressure her, saying that if she married him everything would be fine, she’d live well, and that ‘the rice was already cooked.’ Xianghe wouldn’t agree. Her illness worsened until she couldn’t get out of bed. We begged him, begged the doctor, but nothing changed…”

Living in the same dorm, they’d had a good relationship with Yu Xianghe and had tried to help, but their efforts were in vain. Eventually, her breathing simply stopped.

Pan Hu hadn’t expected her to die. When he found out, he was shocked, and then the Party secretary, Pan Wang, arrived.

“At that time, Tao Yan wasn’t living in the dorm. With Xianghe gone, there were just the three of us left. The Party secretary said a visiting troupe from the commune needed people, so the three of us were sent away. When we came back, new educated youths were living in the dorm, and Xianghe’s ashes had already been taken away by your family…” It was too late.

Yu Mansheng couldn’t help glancing at his second uncle. The veins at Yu Qingshan’s temple throbbed, his fists clenched so tight they cracked, and he was breathing heavily.

Given he had just fainted, Mansheng didn’t know if he could endure this.

Mansheng himself had a daughter, and he didn’t dare imagine what he’d do if something like this happened to his own little Cailan.

Yu Xiangan’s voice trembled. “Dad… Dad, slow down, take it easy. Third Sister still needs us to get justice for her. You have to hold on.”

Yu Xiangqing, tears streaming down her face, spoke through sobs. “Dad, don’t scare us. If something happens to you, what will we do…”

Gradually, Yu Qingshan’s fists loosened. Yu Mansheng and Yan Peng quickly helped him to sit. Yu Xiangan brought him a cup of warm water with some sugar. After drinking it, he seemed to recover a little.

Yu Qingshan understood that if the girls had wanted to tell him back then, they could have found a way — but they hadn’t.

One reason was that they were still living there as educated youths; crossing the Party secretary could have made their lives unbearable, and they might have “disappeared” themselves.

The other was that they had chosen to avoid the situation. So they returned to the city from Yushu Village without ever speaking of it — leaving him in the dark for all these years.

In an instant, Yu Qingshan seemed to have aged ten years.

Yu Xiangan helped her up. “Sister Miao, Heaven’s net is vast and its mesh may be wide, but it lets nothing slip. We didn’t know before, but now that we do, we’ll definitely seek justice for my sister. People like that shouldn’t still be living openly under the sun. But we need evidence. Can you help us?”

For example, by giving the names and addresses of the other three educated youths from the dorm.

Miao Hongxing nodded eagerly, her face full of guilt. “I’ll tell you everything I know!”

Yu Xiangqing asked, “Do you know what the Pan family’s situation is now?”

Miao Hongxing shook her head quickly. “No, I haven’t asked about anything from there again.”

To her, that place was a nightmare — one she desperately wanted to forget. After finally leaving, she never wanted to recall it again.

Tears streamed down her face. “I know that just saying ‘sorry’ is too little. The only thing I can do for you now is, if you need me to testify, I will do my best.”

Yu Qingshan looked at her intently, meeting her eyes. “I’m her father. As her father, I am furious about what happened. But you weren’t the perpetrator. You’re willing to tell us now, and I thank you for that. If Xianghe’s spirit is watching from above, she would thank you too.”

“Please don’t say that,” Miao Hongxing replied. “This is what I should do.”

Yu Qingshan was still angry, but his reason had returned a little. If he wanted to get justice for his third daughter, he couldn’t do it without her help.

Still, it was hard to find peace. Yu Xiangqing thought, if they had been willing to send just one letter to let her father know, maybe Big Sister could have survived. Even if it couldn’t be sent then, they could have sent one later, and maybe her father could have caught the evidence in time. Now it was too late — there was no evidence left.

She closed her eyes. Yes, they hadn’t killed her, but their years of inaction were chilling. She still remembered Big Sister’s letters home, saying they all got along well, that they were lucky — even though they came from different places, they were good friends who helped each other. Thinking about it now was deeply ironic.

Yu Qingshan’s voice was hoarse. “Xiao An, don’t tell the elderly in the family about this.” Yao Cuifen, Qin Qiang, and Zhang Chahua were old now — this kind of news could be too much for them to bear.

Even for him, when he first heard it, he had fainted from the shock. It was better to keep it from them.

He was no longer the hot-blooded young man he used to be. If he had known back when it happened, he might have taken up a knife and hacked the man into eighteen pieces to feed to the fish. But now he couldn’t. His own life didn’t matter, but if he broke the law in a fit of rage, it would drag down the younger generation — many of their jobs would be at risk.

So he had to go through proper channels.

Miao Hongxing wrote down the names and addresses of the other three educated youths. The fact that she remembered them so clearly after all these years showed she had never truly been at ease and had never dared to forget.

Yu Xiangan knew she had no formal job, had married a man who’d been divorced, and had both a son and a daughter. Life wasn’t easy for her. So she said, “If it’s possible, could you come with us to find these people? They don’t know us and might not trust us. Telling us these leads and evidence, and taking your time for this — we’ll compensate you. You have both the elderly and children at home. If you’re away, you can take some money back with you.”

Miao Hongxing was stunned and about to refuse, but Yu Xiangan quickly added, “If you feel guilty and want to refuse, why not help us get the evidence as soon as possible — to comfort my sister’s spirit in heaven?”

Miao Hongxing was silent for a moment, then promised again and again, “I’ll definitely help you. I’ve had nightmares for years, and now I can finally do something for her. I want to sleep peacefully from now on — you can rest assured.”

This matter couldn’t be kept from the rest of the family — they needed to split up and work together.

Yu Xiangyan was too far away, in the capital, so they only called him. Yu Manwu was also far, in Shanghai, but it was summer break and he had time off, so he could come and help.

Back home, they told Yu Qingbao, Yu Xianghai, and Yu Manchang about it. Yu Manchang and Yu Xianghai paced back and forth in the room. Then Yu Xianghai kicked a stool hard enough to break it into pieces — a sign of how much force he had used.

Yu Xianghai wanted to curse the heavens. He had three younger sisters, and yet all three had such ill fortune.

The youngest had been betrayed by her fiancé and stepsister. The fourth sister had trusted the wrong person and been used as a stepping stone. Even though they were doing well now, they’d both had those dark chapters. And the eldest — she had died young. They had thought it was illness, but it turned out that, in a place far from home, she had suffered far worse and lost her life, while the culprit still lived peacefully.

How was that fair?

This wasn’t over. Definitely not.

Watching them vent their anger, Miao Hongxing shrank into herself, afraid they might turn that anger on her and she’d be in danger. She tried to make herself as small and invisible as possible.

She knew they shouldn’t have kept silent all these years. Back then, she had simply been too afraid. She knew she was wrong — otherwise she wouldn’t have had nightmares for so many years. When she saw Yu Xiangqing, who looked so much like Yu Xianghe, she had blurted everything out in panic.

Now that she’d spoken, she didn’t regret it. Saying it aloud eased her heart a little. If she could help get justice for Yu Xianghe, she would be freed too.

They quickly split into groups. Yu Manwu, Yu Mansheng, and Yu Xianghai went to Yushu Village, while Yu Qingshan, Yu Manchang, Yu Xiangqing, and Yu Xiangan went with Miao Hongxing to find the other three who knew the truth.

The educated youth who had married locally had eventually returned to her home province in the southwest. The one who’d gotten into the cultural troupe in the commune was from Shanghai. The one who had remained single until all educated youths were allowed back to the city was from the northeast.

The three lived in completely different directions, and the journey would be long — but no matter how far, they had to go.

Yushu Village had once been called the Progress Production Brigade, but the name had since been changed back.

The three men brought goods with them to sell there, so if anyone asked, they could say they were just doing a bit of trade.

Yushu Village was easy to find, so they quickly got information. The village Party secretary was named Pan Wang. He had two sons, Pan Long and Pan Hu. His wife had been paralyzed for years, and he had taken care of her all that time. People praised him for his “conscience.”

With that as a topic, they could ask more questions while selling goods without raising suspicion.

“The Party secretary’s eldest daughter-in-law is from our village,” one woman buying clothes told them. “She’s a hard worker, and she’s the one who cares for her mother-in-law. Everyone says she has it tough. The younger daughter-in-law is an educated youth — from a big city, they say — pretty too, and with a good heart. Lots of educated youths went back to the city and left their homes here, but she stayed and even became a teacher at our village primary school.”

Yu Mansheng made a small noise. “She didn’t go back? How pretty is she?”

The woman buying clothes laughed. “When she first came down, all the young men in our village got restless. Who wouldn’t want to marry a fair-skinned, educated, well-mannered girl like that? But of course, most couldn’t compete — their family backgrounds weren’t rich enough. How could they spare a fresh egg every day to please a girl like her, when they could barely fill their own stomachs? You know what I mean, right?”

Yu Xianghai’s cheek twitched and he gave a dry laugh. “Yes, yes, life used to be so hard.”

The older woman nodded. “Exactly. And you know, that educated youth — she’s good-looking, educated, and her child turned out well too. The kid’s not very old, but already looks proper and clever. Definitely another ‘reading seed.’ As the saying goes, ‘Dragons beget dragons, phoenixes beget phoenixes, and the son of a rat will dig holes.’ Who knows, maybe that child will be a university student in the future.”

A rather difficult-looking older woman standing nearby gave a cold snort. “Dragon, phoenix, or rat — who knows if he didn’t use some shady tricks. If it had been fair competition, who knows what would have happened. My son almost managed to court an educated youth once, but then he suddenly jumped in and stole her away.”

She hadn’t agreed with her son marrying an educated youth back then, but looking at it now, if the woman was willing to stay, she would have been a good wife.

Yu Mansheng’s eyes lit up, and he handed over a small gift. “What’s this new story? Can you tell me?”

These older women loved gossip, and now there was gossip plus free gifts — clearly a kindred spirit. They became eager to share.

“You’re not from around here, so you don’t know. The village Party secretary’s family is very domineering. When land was allocated, they got the best fields — the most fertile, closest to water. When housing plots were divided, his two sons took the best spots. And back when there were still educated youths — there used to be some almost every year — if any of them came from good families, they’d find ways to intercept their letters and packages. Without a letter of introduction, you couldn’t leave, and they’d charge a fee just to write one. Who knows how much money they made off that.”

“Pan Hu liked educated youth girls. The one he courted back then wasn’t even his current wife — it was another one. But that didn’t work out, and she later died of illness. If she hadn’t died, she might have been the one to marry into the family.”

Yu Xianghai quickly turned his head away, afraid he couldn’t control his expression. Yu Mansheng leaned in — this had to be his cousin they were talking about.

“What’s this? Was this a second marriage for him?” he asked deliberately.

“No, no. He was just courting her then and didn’t succeed.”

“How do you know he didn’t succeed?”

“Well, there was no wedding feast, so of course it didn’t happen. If they’d married, they’d have held a banquet.”

Another woman with a serious expression thought back. “I still remember that young girl — she was very pretty. To tell you the truth, my own son liked her too, but the Party secretary’s younger son was so domineering he wouldn’t let anyone else court her. Later, I matched my son with his current wife, and life went on.”

The conversation drifted toward her son’s wife, but Yu Mansheng found a way to bring it back. “So the younger daughter-in-law didn’t mind that he had courted someone before?”

The woman gave a dismissive laugh. “What’s there to mind? No one knows if they even really courted. And even if they did — so what? She’s dead.”

…

Yu Mansheng, Yu Xianghai, and Yu Manwu stayed around for several days, selling most of their goods and gathering more complete information. They even went to the next village and the commune to ask around. It was no secret — the Yushu Village Party secretary had connections higher up and was living well. He had a brother-in-law in the town government who had once been on the Revolutionary Committee — an awkward position now, but he had since been reassigned. Without skill and connections, someone in that position could easily be ruined without a reversal of fortune.

With such a brother-in-law, the Party secretary lived like a local despot.

While they were digging for information in Yushu Village, on the other side, Yu Qingshan and Yu Xiangan successfully found the first person in the southwest — a woman named Fang Shengli.

She had once married locally in Yushu Village, but when educated youths were allowed to return to the city, she abandoned her home there and came back. Now she had a new family and children. When she saw Miao Hongxing, and the faces of Yu Xiangqing and Yu Xiangan so similar to Yu Xianghe, she immediately understood why they had come.

She lived in a large courtyard, full of people. Seeing so many visitors, the place became a nest of prying ears — there were no secrets here.

“Wait a moment,” Fang Shengli said.

She went into the house, told the children to stay put, said she’d be back soon, and to cook them bamboo shoots with pork if she was delayed. Then she came out again. “Come with me.”

Fang Shengli led them to an open area with no cover — a place where anyone approaching could be seen from a distance.

“It’s easier to talk here.”

Miao Hongxing nodded. “Shengli, this is Xianghe’s family — her father, and her brothers and sisters.”

Fang Shengli gave a bitter smile. “And you’ve come for…?”

Yu Qingshan bent forward and gave her a deep bow. “I want justice for my daughter. She can’t die without a clear reason. You were there and you know the truth. If you can give us any evidence, I’ll be eternally grateful.”

Startled, Fang Shengli stepped back quickly. “Don’t do that. I…” Her voice grew muffled. “It’s not that I don’t want to help you. I know, but we have no evidence at all. Back then, all our things were searched and taken. The Party secretary there is a powerful man. I… once tried to hide something secretly, but he found out, and I had to marry into a local family with many sons — otherwise, I don’t know what would have happened to me.” Her face was full of bitterness.

🌱🌿 🫧🍃