As soon as he finished speaking, he hurried off, missing the faint, knowing chuckle behind him.
Lin Sui had never imagined that going out to repay a favor would end with her not only avoiding paying compensation but also earning 1,000 yuan.
So she headed to the township post office savings bank and deposited 4,000 yuan. Adding the 8,000 yuan she had left invested in the stock market, she was now officially a ten-thousand-yuan household — quite wealthy for the era.
Well, it seemed there really were advantages to living a second life.
Back in those days, ten-thousand-yuan households were still rare in rural areas, especially in a place like Linjia Village.
Clutching her new savings book and thinking it over, Lin Sui decided she still needed to make a trip to the county seat. She had to find out exactly what Gu Shaonan was really planning.
Meanwhile, Zhou Chiye had just finished a meeting with several village officials regarding the trial plot for a new strain of high-yield rice in the county.
Old Yu’s idea was that if it succeeded, it could open a path to prosperity for the people of Cuizhu Township.
But Zhou Chiye felt the soil and conditions there weren’t well suited to the crop. Still, since Old Yu meant well and wanted to help him — a new official — produce results quickly, it was hard to turn him down.
Old Yu was originally from the south. Years earlier, he had worked under Zhou Chiye’s grandfather when the elder Zhou was posted there. When Grandpa Zhou returned to the north, he had recommended Old Yu for a position in Nanfeng County.
Now, Old Yu felt obliged to look out for the young man. He mentioned that rumors were spreading that Zhou Chiye had only been sent to Cuizhu Township as a sort of “trial run” or temporary posting. “You’ll have to prove them wrong with real results,” Old Yu said. “But then again, why pay any mind to idle gossip?”
Zhou Chiye carried the unyielding pride of youth. “I am who I am — my work will speak for itself.”
Truth be told, though, his transfer to Cuizhu Township had been somewhat impulsive. His father had passed up a promotion opportunity for him in the army and given it to his older brother instead. Later, when Zhou Chiye secured a formal position in the city government in Nancheng, a senior official there who held a grudge against his father reassigned him to Cuizhu Township.
Cuizhu Township fell under Nanfeng County. Located in the northeast part of Yue Province, it was less than 100 kilometers from the nearest coast and only about 400 kilometers from major cities like Shenzhen and Guangzhou — so transportation was reasonably convenient. Yet it remained poorer than most surrounding areas, and Lin Village was the most destitute of all.
Since he was here, if he failed to achieve anything, he knew people would use it to criticize his family and his appointment.
Old Yu watched him, seeing in him the same stubborn determination he himself had possessed when young, and smiled. “You’re right. Ignore what others say and just focus on doing your job well.”
Then his tone shifted. “Though you can’t completely ignore what your father thinks, you know. He called me yesterday asking how you’re getting on.”
“I told him you two should talk things through properly,” Old Yu continued. “I’ve worked with your grandfather and your father for years — and I’ll admit, I’m still a bit intimidated by him. He’s got that stern, unsmiling look. You take after him in appearance, though thankfully your youth and fiery temper soften that imposing edge a little.”
“He also asked if you’ve found a partner yet,” Old Yu added. “Your older brother is getting married by the end of the year.”
Old Yu paused, looking confused. “I thought that was a strange question. What does your brother’s wedding have to do with whether you have a girlfriend? Or maybe he’s just hinting that you’re not getting any younger and it’s time to settle down? I couldn’t quite tell.”
Zhou Chiye’s expression darkened slightly. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He rarely smoked, but did so when feeling troubled.
Seeing his mood, Old Yu asked with a grin, “What’s the matter? Is your father pressing you to get married already? Would you like me to introduce someone? A girl from Nanfeng County perhaps? I don’t know many people from farther away.”
Zhou Chiye laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t take it seriously. He’s just talking.”
But Old Yu knew better — the young man’s father never joked about anything. “Fair enough. There aren’t many girls in this small town who would catch your eye anyway, or who would be a suitable match for your family. Someone like you belongs in the big cities.”
Something seemed to cross Zhou Chiye’s mind, and a faint glint flashed in his dark eyes.
Back in town, Lin Sui finished her banking errand and went to the market. She bought five pounds of pork hind leg and five pounds of pork ribs. At that time, most people preferred leaner cuts and avoided meat with bones; hind leg pork cost 3 yuan per pound, while ribs were even cheaper at 2.8 yuan.
It was market day, so Lin Sui wandered around for a while. The streets were lined with stalls selling everything imaginable — chickens, ducks, geese, wild game, mushrooms, bamboo shoots, fresh fruits and vegetables, and even clothing. Hong Kong and Taiwanese fashion trends were starting to become popular, and people were buying ready-made clothes instead of purchasing fabric to sew at home.
The air was filled with the lively sound of bargaining, mixed with local dialects, Hakka, and Mandarin. It was a vivid snapshot of the era, and for Lin Sui, it truly felt like she had traveled back in time.
When she returned home and told the family what had happened, everyone’s eyes went wide in disbelief.
“You mean not only didn’t you have to pay Zhang Dongliang 2,000 yuan, but he ended up paying you 1,000 yuan in compensation for mental distress?”
Lin Yaozu looked at his sister with obvious admiration. “Wow, Sis! From now on, Secretary Zhou is my hero!”
Liang Fengjiao looked worried. “But will the Zhang family try to cause trouble for us again later?”
“Not a chance,” Lin Sui reassured her. “Zhang Dongliang is nothing but a paper tiger. Today, in front of Secretary Zhou, he acted as timid as a quail.”
To celebrate this small victory, Lin Sui announced she would prepare a proper feast for dinner. She invited her great-grandparents, grandparents, and her second uncle’s family over as well. Her cousin Lin Meilan also came home for the occasion.
Lin Sui’s father and his younger brother were both in their forties. Lin Meilan was the daughter of the second uncle, who had married very young after getting his girlfriend pregnant right after graduating from junior high. As a result, Lin Meilan was actually three years older than Lin Sui. She had two younger siblings: Lin Yaohua, who was in the first year of middle school, and Lin Xiaohua, who was in third grade. Lin Sui herself only had one younger brother, Lin Yaozu.
In the past, a wandering fortune teller had once claimed that Lin Village had unusual feng shui — that while men in the family didn’t always prosper, the women did, because the ancestral burial grounds were said to be a site that made daughters marry well and bring good fortune to their husbands. Most people dismissed it as nonsense, but Lin Meilan did seem to live up to the prediction.
Her husband, Qiu Yang, had come from a very poor family. Yet less than a year after their wedding, he had bought two tractors and started a business digging and selling river sand. Their life was now comfortable and stable. Qiu Yang was heading to the county seat the next day, so Lin Sui arranged to ride along with him on his tractor.
Lin Meilan brought her toddler son, Dabao, and was pregnant again, due to give birth soon. Lin Sui had always loved children, so she gave Dabao a small toy car she had bought on her last trip to Shenzhen. “Thank you, Auntie!” the little boy beamed, smiling like a sunflower. He was utterly adorable.
Lin Sui found herself thinking of the orphan boy Xiao Rong. If in this life she never married Gu Shaonan, and no longer had to fear Zhang Dongliang pestering her, she certainly wouldn’t be rushing into marriage. Would she still be able to adopt Xiao Rong someday? But since years still remained before he would enter her life, she decided not to dwell on things too far in the future.
For dinner, Lin Sui made braised pork with dried bamboo shoots and a huge pot of ribs — half steamed and half braised in soy sauce. When the dishes were set on the table, everyone exclaimed, “This looks like a New Year’s feast!”
“By the way,” someone asked, “why didn’t you invite Secretary Zhou to join us?”
“Maybe another day,” Lin Sui replied. “He’s busy with meetings today, and I’m sure they have an official dinner afterward.”
Her second uncle, Lin Xiangming, who served as the village head, spoke up. “I heard they’re planning to introduce a new strain of rice — something called ‘improved high-yield rice’.”
“Can it actually grow well here?” asked Old Man Lin, known around the village as the “Basket-Weaving King.”
At that time, the livelihood of most families in Cuizhu Township depended entirely on farming. Lin Sui didn’t recall hearing about this new rice variety in her previous life — or perhaps she had simply been away studying and working in the county seat back then and never paid attention.
To be honest, Cuizhu Township had more people than land, and what land there was was dry and infertile. For anyone farming there, it seemed impossible to ever get rich. But since she didn’t know the exact details of the plan, she chose not to dampen her uncle’s enthusiasm.
“Dad,” Lin Sui said suddenly, “I want to buy you a tractor.”
Her father, Lin Xiangfa, was so startled that his chopsticks slipped right out of his hand. “A tractor? I was already planning to plant orange orchards next year!”