Wen Ya quickly grabbed her things and headed toward the Ping’an Production Brigade’s area. Don’t ask how she knew where to go—there was an old man standing next to an ox cart, shouting at the top of his lungs:
“Ping’an Production Brigade over here! Ping’an Production Brigade, come this way!”
That booming voice completely drowned out all the surrounding noise.
The new arrivals assigned to that brigade lugged their luggage over. The old man instructed them to pile everything onto the cart. Sensing the cart was running out of space, the old man skillfully pulled out a long, sturdy rope, tossed the remaining bags on top, and lashed them down securely.
Seeing this, some of the male educated youths stepped up to help. Once everything was strapped down tight, the group prepared to set off.
Since the ox cart was weighed down with luggage, there was no room for any of them to ride. Left with no choice, they simply followed along behind the cart. To be fair, the ox cart didn’t move very fast, making it easy for everyone to keep pace.
This gave Wen Ya her first real chance to look over her fellow travelers. She already knew Xie Ling and Wang Meiyu, and the icy-faced man sticking close by needed no introduction. Aside from them, there were two other young women and five young men—quite a substantial batch of newcomers this time around.
As she looked around, Xie Ling kept glancing over in her direction. Of course, Wen Ya knew those looks weren’t meant for her; Xie Ling’s eyes were entirely locked onto the icy man.
After walking for a little over half an hour, some of the female youths started reaching their limit. After all, several of them had been pampered at home. Being forced to walk for such a long stretch straight off a train, especially over rugged mountain paths, was bound to exhaust them.
Yet exhaustion didn’t change the reality—they had to keep moving. They couldn’t just drop out and rest by the side of the road while everyone else pushed forward.
Ten minutes later, complaints began to ripple through the group.
“How much longer is this? We’ve been walking for ages!”
“Exactly, my legs feel like lead.”
Truth be told, Wen Ya was tired too, but thanks to the revitalizing effects of her spiritual spring water, she barely felt any fatigue. She kept her mouth shut and silently trudged along in the group.
Up front, the old man drove the cart in absolute silence, listening to the murmurs behind him. Inside, he couldn’t help shaking his head. Another batch of spoiled young masters and misses coming here to create headaches for us. The ones who arrived last season had done nothing but cry the moment they touched a hoe, and a few of the girls had even batted their eyelashes to trick the local boys into doing their farm chores for them. Still, orders from above meant they couldn’t turn them away. Sigh, what a pain.
Amidst their grumbling, they finally reached their destination after another half-hour of walking.
The old man drove the ox cart straight to the edge of the local youth point, shouting toward the courtyard, “Youth Leader He! Is Youth Leader He around?”
“Right here!”
A man in his late twenties emerged from the doorway. His skin was deeply tanned by the sun, but he possessed a sturdy, muscular build.
“Old Branch Secretary, you’re back.”
“Mmhmm. Brought all the new kids back. Go ahead and get them settled.”
“Will do, leave it to me!”
With that, the old man began untying the ropes on the ox cart, and the male educated youths quickly stepped up to help. Having heard the youth leader address him as the “Old Branch Secretary,” they knew this man held ultimate administrative authority over them. Any future paperwork regarding returning to the city would require his signature.
The girls who had spent the entire journey complaining instantly shrank back and lost their bravado. They had done plenty of whining along the trail, and now it was too late to take it back. Their first impressions were thoroughly ruined—with the sole exception of Xie Ling, whose mind was entirely consumed by thoughts of Ling Hao.
Once all the luggage was unloaded, the old branch secretary drove the ox cart away.
“Everyone, come on inside,” Youth Leader He said, swinging the large courtyard gates open so they could haul their bags inside.
“As you can see, the housing here at our youth point is actually the best in the entire village. This compound used to belong to a landlord before the reforms. Because it’s so spacious, they carved it out for our use.”
He gestured across the courtyard. “The rooms on this side are for the male educated youths. The rooms on that side are for the female educated youths. You girls can take that room over there—it’s completely vacant right now. See if you all can fit in there together. I’ll take the guys over to their quarters.”
With that, he led the male youths to their side of the compound. Inside, they found a massive brick kang bed capable of sleeping seven or eight people comfortably.
Over on the women’s side, the girls stepped into their assigned room to find a similar large brick kang. Because it had sat vacant for a while, a thin layer of dust coated everything. The layout wasn’t originally built this way; the production brigade had modified the rooms specifically so that large kangs could accommodate more people under one roof.
After setting their luggage down, the group drifted back outside into the courtyard.
Wen Ya’s mind was racing with one core problem: How can I manage to live alone?
With her spatial dimension packed with supplies, sharing a cramped room with a bunch of roommates practically guaranteed discovery. More importantly, she simply wasn’t used to communal living. Whether in her modern life or after her transmigration, she had always lived in her own private space.
Moreover, cooking her own private meals in a shared room would be impossible. It was wildly inconvenient. Why couldn’t this be like the novels where the production teams built individual little private cottages for every educated youth?
Ah, I’m just daydreaming, she realized. In this era, local families struggled just to build a single house of their own; expecting the village to construct private cabins for a bunch of arriving city kids was pure fantasy. Unless you paid for the construction yourself out of pocket, you simply went wherever the village assigned you. And very few youths had the personal cash reserves to fund private construction—almost everyone had to submit entirely to official arrangements.
Stepping out into the courtyard, she tracked down Youth Leader He, asked where the water buckets and washbasins were kept, and borrowed a cleaning rag. Together with the others, they fetched water and gave the rooms a quick scrub.
By this time, midday had arrived, and the villagers working the fields began trickling back in waves. The veteran educated youths returned as well. Among the veterans stationed here were five men and four women.
Youth Leader He handled the cooking duties for lunch. Because such a massive wave of newcomers had just arrived, even if the veterans wanted to host a welcome feast, their collective grain reserves simply wouldn’t stretch that far. In fact, many of the veterans were struggling to keep their own stomachs full and had to supplement their rations out of pocket.
New arrivals were granted a state grain subsidy for their first year—forty jin of unpolished grain per month plus six yuan in cash—but once that first year passed, that financial cushion vanished entirely. From then on, they earned work points just like regular production brigade members, calculated on a labor-apportionment scale.
Of course, policies varied across different regions nationwide. In some places, harsh commune leaders would illegally squeeze and dock the subsidies, while in other places, the brigade was simply too poor to scrape the food together. Consequently, veteran educated youths often struggled to feed themselves; expecting them to host a crowd of total strangers was out of the question.
Wen Ya wasn’t bothered in the slightest, given her hidden stockpile. In truth, almost every arrival carried a small stash of private food items in their bags, ensuring nobody would starve right out of the gate.
Once lunch was served and everyone had eaten their fill, they gathered around to exchange introductions.
“My name is He Zhiwei, and I’m the team leader here,” the sturdy man announced. “If any of you run into issues or don’t understand how things work, feel free to ask me. The rest of us veterans have arrived over the past couple of years. Welcome to our big family!”
When He Zhiwei finished speaking, the newcomers politely offered a round of sparse, obligatory applause.
Next came the self-introductions among the veterans. A bespectacled male veteran named Wang Jun stepped forward. Despite the glasses, he bore zero resemblance to a “refined scoundrel”—years under the blazing rural sun had baked his skin a deep, mahogany black.
Another exceptionally tall and slender male veteran was introduced as Wei Jianjun, while a short, thin, and wiry young man was introduced as Wang Peng.