The oxcart creaked and groaned as it jolted along the bumpy dirt road.
Su Nianqiu sat atop a pile of dry hay, holding an empty bamboo basket in her arms. Upon reaching the town, she first went to the supply and marketing cooperative to purchase eight jin of high-quality white cotton and five chi of soft, pure cotton fabric. The sales clerk gave her several extra glances while ringing up the purchase. In these times, households that could buy so much cotton in one go were few and far between.
After stuffing her purchases into the bottom of the basket, she excused herself to buy some needles and thread, sending Grandpa Mute off on an errand. Alone, she turned into the waste collection station at the east end of town.
The station’s gate stood wide open, its yard piled high with scrap metal, old newspapers, and rotten wood. The air was thick with the musty smell of dust.
The gatekeeper was a gaunt old man wearing a tattered military coat, dozing off against the doorframe.
Su Nianqiu walked over, fished a pack of “Da Qianmen” cigarettes—worth twenty cents—from her pocket, and held it out to him.
The old man opened his eyes, caught sight of the cigarette pack, cracked a grin with his thin lips, and swiftly tucked it into his coat.
“Uncle, I’d like to find a couple of old newspapers for pasting on walls, and maybe a few old books for kindling,” Su Nianqiu said, her voice clear and crisp.
“Go ahead. The shed on the right is full of scrap paper. It’s sold by the jin, one fen per jin. Don’t go rummaging through the metal scraps,” the old man waved a hand dismissively and closed his eyes again.
Su Nianqiu headed straight for the wooden shed on the right.
Inside the shed, the light was dim. Bundles of old newspapers and tattered magazines with missing pages were stacked like mountains. She rolled up her sleeves, crouched down, and began sifting through the piles.
The college entrance examination was set to resume by the end of next year, giving her just over a year to prepare.
High school textbooks from the 1970s differed drastically from modern-day materials. To study effectively, she needed to find the original editions. Most crucial was the set of “Self-Study Series for Mathematics, Physics, and Chemistry”—the legendary books that countless educated youths would later scramble for when the exams resumed.
Dust filled the air, making her cough. Covering her nose and mouth, she dug through piles of yellowed paper bit by bit.
Half an hour later, her fingernails were caked with black grime.
From the bottom layer of a battered cardboard box, she pulled out a book with no cover. Brushing off the dust, she opened it to the first page, where the traditional Chinese characters for “Algebra” were printed.
She was in the right place.
She quickened her pace, dragging the entire cardboard box out. Inside were old textbooks—high school Chinese, physics, chemistry. Though a few volumes were missing, they would suffice.
When she reached the bottom of the box, her hand brushed against several thick volumes. Pulling them out, she saw the bold blue-and-white covers bearing seven characters: “Self-Study Series for Mathematics, Physics, and Chemistry.”
A light sparked in Su Nianqiu’s eyes.
There were seventeen volumes in the complete set, and here she had found twelve. Though five were missing, it was more than enough for her initial studies.
She gathered all the books together, wrapping them tightly in a few sheets of old newspaper. Nearby, she spotted an old desk clock missing its glass cover and picked it up as well—it would be perfect for keeping time inside her Spatial Dimension.
Carrying the bundle of “scrap paper” to be weighed, she paid ten fen for the ten-jin load.
On the way back to the village, Su Nianqiu leaned against her basket, feeling immensely pleased. No matter how powerful her Golden Finger was, getting into university required genuine knowledge and skill. With these books in hand, her heart finally settled back into place.
As night fell, Hongqi Brigade returned to tranquility.
In the east wing room, the kerosene lamp flickered like a bean of light.
Su Nianqiu sat at the kang table, spreading out the “Self-Study Series for Mathematics, Physics, and Chemistry.” With a thought, she retrieved a cup of pure Spirit Spring Water from her Spatial Dimension and drank it down.
The cool stream of water slid down her throat into her stomach, transforming into a warm current that surged straight to her head. The fatigue of the day vanished completely, and her mind became clearer than ever before.
She opened the first volume of algebra.
In her previous life, she had been a designer with a strong foundation in liberal arts, but she had neglected science subjects for years. She had expected it would be difficult to pick them up again, but as her eyes swept over the formulas and example problems, something miraculous happened.
Those dry numbers and symbols seemed etched into her mind. After reading them once, the problem-solving approach automatically formed in her thoughts. She picked up a charcoal pencil and swiftly wrote out the calculation process on old newspaper, without any hesitation, directly arriving at the correct answer.
The Spirit Spring Water could not only transform her physique but also enhance her mental abilities. Photographic memory, agile thinking.
Su Nianqiu gripped the pencil and laughed softly. This cheat was a big one.
She read through half the algebra book in one go, only stopping when her stomach rumbled. She touched her slightly rounded belly. She was already three months pregnant.
“Baby, Mom’s giving you prenatal education. You’re definitely going to be a little genius,” she whispered, blowing out the kerosene lamp.
A thousand miles away. The military hospital in the southwestern border region.
In the rehabilitation room, heavy panting echoed.
He Lin, bare-chested, gripped the pull-up bar with both hands, doing pull-ups. Sweat covered his bronze back, and with each exertion, his muscles bulged. The dark red scar from a gunshot wound on his left chest stretched with the movement, looking particularly fierce.
“Twenty-eight… twenty-nine…” Old Chen, the military doctor, stood nearby, watching the clock, his brow furrowed into a tight knot.
“Enough! Stop!” Old Chen shouted.
He Lin released his grip and landed steadily. His right leg was slightly lame, but he stood straight. He took a towel and wiped the sweat from his face.
“You trying to kill yourself? The chest wound hasn’t fully healed yet, and the thigh muscles are still recovering. If you keep training like this, you’ll end up in a wheelchair when you’re old,” Old Chen grumbled.
“Doctor Chen, when can I be discharged?” He Lin draped the towel over his neck, his voice steady.
“At least another month.”
“Two weeks,” He Lin bargained.
“Dream on!” Old Chen stormed off angrily.
He Lin put on his military jacket and walked out of the rehabilitation room.
Political Commissar Zhao Guodong was waiting for him at the end of the corridor.
“The people sent to the north have sent back a message,” Zhao Guodong handed over a telegram.
He Lin took it immediately.
“Qingshuiwan Commune oversees thirty-six brigades with a population of over ten thousand. Without specific village names or personal names, finding someone based on just a button is like searching for a needle in a haystack. The logistics department has already visited over a dozen brigades, but so far, there are no leads. Plus, winter is coming, and heavy snow is expected in the north. Once the snow blocks the mountains and roads, the investigation will have to be suspended.”
He Lin stared at the words on the telegram, his fingers tightening around the paper until his knuckles turned white.
“Tell them to keep searching. Resume as soon as the snow stops,” He Lin folded the telegram neatly. “In two weeks, I’ll return to duty. I’m applying for an exchange program to the northern military region.”
Zhao Guodong looked at his stubborn expression and sighed.
“Fine, I’ll arrange it.”
He Lin turned to look out the window. The rainy season in the southwest hadn’t ended yet; the sky was overcast.
He touched the worn plastic button in his pocket.
Wait for me.