“Brother Liao, are you also going to the county?”
Liao Zhixian had been sitting there blankly, lost in thought. When she suddenly spoke to him, he was immediately flattered and a bit overwhelmed.
After all, he was the most inconspicuous “four-eyes” in the production team—the bespectacled youth even children bullied, who couldn’t distinguish people from animals beyond five meters, who couldn’t carry or lift anything. And Qin Laidi was the most beautiful girl in the entire team. Not only beautiful, she had now become a remarkable figure capable of saving lives.
In truth, he hadn’t always been so quiet. Back when his eyesight was good, he had been a key member of the school’s literature club, full of youthful ambition. But after his vision worsened in recent years, he gradually became withdrawn and insecure.
Seeing him stammer, Qin Laidi smiled. “Brother Liao, do you have something to take care of in the city today?”
“No… no, I’m going to the commune… oh, yes, yes, something.”
Qin Laidi smiled again, unsure whether he actually had something to do, so she changed the topic, chatting about village anecdotes and fresh happenings in Haicheng. Gradually, Liao Zhixian relaxed. Though he still didn’t dare meet her eyes, his speech became much smoother.
“I heard… heard that you got married? Your husband is also from Haicheng?”
It wasn’t just hearsay. The village women were even betting on when the “little chili” would regret marrying the technician—or rather, when the technician would divorce her.
Because of his poor eyesight, Liao Zhixian did the same work as the women and heard plenty of gossip. But he wasn’t one to spread rumors.
Qin Laidi trusted his character, so she briefly described He Liansheng’s situation, choosing only what she could share.
Unexpectedly, Liao Zhixian muttered, “My father’s factory got a new technician last year too—a disabled veteran transferred from the military. They say he used to be a decorated company commander.”
Qin Laidi feigned surprise. “Oh? Which factory does your father work at? My husband is at Haicheng No. 2 Wireless Factory.”
Liao Zhixian slapped his thigh. “My parents are too!”
With that connection, their conversation became much warmer, like meeting a fellow townsman.
Under Qin Laidi’s subtle prompting, Liao Zhixian revealed almost everything—factory conditions, leadership personalities, even the technician’s salary. After all, wages were transparent; on payday, everyone signed at the finance office, so everyone knew each other’s earnings. And Technician He was a prominent figure, with no secrets.
Qin Laidi listened with great interest. Some things she already knew from her past life, others were new—like how popular he was among young female workers, how the radio station announcer had confessed to him, and how the factory secretary wanted to introduce his niece to him.
“But Technician He refused them all. He’s very upright. Don’t worry—he’s a good man.”
Qin Laidi smiled. Of course she knew how upright Old He was. During those three years he took care of her, if she wore anything slightly revealing, he would avert his eyes. His respect for women seemed ingrained in his bones.
In this life, he agreed to marry her largely because of his strong sense of morality—otherwise, no one could have forced him.
As for all those admirers—it didn’t matter. She would handle it.
“Although we’re married, we live far apart. How about this—Brother Liao, if you go home, could you bring something to him for me?”
She knew He Liansheng was overseas and wouldn’t receive it for at least half a year.
But that wasn’t her goal.
Unaware, Liao Zhixian readily agreed. “Sure. I’m going back next week. Just bring it to the educated youth point tomorrow.”
Soon, the tractor reached the commune. Liao Zhixian got off first, while Qin Laidi continued another twenty minutes to the county.
The county hadn’t changed much, though there were more farmers on the streets. After the autumn harvest, some teams had distributed grain, and those short on money brought soybeans or rice to exchange.
Qin Laidi made her way to the county hospital’s residential area. Seeing no armbands, she set down her basket.
“What are you selling, young girl?” someone asked curiously. Seeing only brownish “dry twigs,” they quickly lost interest.
“Auntie, I have top-quality coptis. It’s good for sore throats, inflammation, or constipation—can be brewed as tea.”
People had heard of coptis, but medicine wasn’t something people bought without illness. After a long wait, only an old woman bought a small amount.
After another hour with no customers, Qin Laidi headed to the hospital pharmacy.
At that time, Western and traditional medicine were dispensed together. She spotted an elderly pharmacist with white hair and approached. “Doctor, would you like some coptis?”
He wasn’t interested—farmers sometimes came to sell herbs, but aside from ginseng or gastrodia, he rarely bought.
“This is wild Yunnan coptis, and it has several ‘scorpion tails,’” she added.
The old doctor paused. Most coptis available was cultivated, but traditional practitioners preferred wild varieties for their potency.
“You know about Yunnan coptis?”
“A little. I learned some traditional medicine from my grandfather.”
He nodded. It wasn’t unusual for folk experts to exist, especially given how traditional medicine had declined in recent decades.
He examined it closely. “Hmm… this isn’t ordinary.”
“I processed it with evodia,” she explained. “It reduces its bitterness and harsh cold nature, making it gentler on the spleen and stomach.”
Processing methods varied, but this one was rare and difficult.
The old pharmacist tested it and nodded. “Not bad—you know what you’re doing.”
He weighed it. “Four yuan for all of it.”
Qin Laidi’s eyes flickered. That meant the price was low. “Could you add a bit more? It’s over twenty pounds.”
“Four and a half.”
“How about rounding it up? It wasn’t easy gathering this much…”
Seeing her patched clothes and thin limbs, the old pharmacist relented. “Fine. Five yuan.”
With an empty basket and five yuan in hand, Qin Laidi felt like she could fly. This was the first money she had earned with her own hands since being reborn.
She went to the state market, but everything required ration coupons. The clerks barely acknowledged her, so she turned to the black market.
Luckily, she found pork—wild boar, cheaper but tougher and gamey. She bought two pounds.
Now with four yuan left, she began planning. She needed a stable income.
Suddenly, she had an idea. She went to a cigarette stall and, after bargaining, bought a pack.
She had noticed the old pharmacist carried tobacco—he must enjoy smoking.
Hungry but determined, she returned to the pharmacy and gave him the cigarettes, offering to process herbs for them in the future.
Impressed, the old pharmacist said, “We have everything, but some herbs are troublesome to prepare. Do you know Arisaema?”
“Yes—it dries dampness, transforms phlegm, reduces swelling.”
“I detoxified some at home. Can you process it into bile Arisaema?”
Qin Laidi’s eyes lit up.