As night fell, the educated youth built a bonfire in the clearing.
The flames roared, casting a bright orange glow across every face. Qiao Yadong played the harmonica, his melody clear and lingering. Li Huilan broke into song, her voice sweet and melodic. Hand in hand, the group danced in a circle around the fire.
The night garden is hushed and still,
The rustle of leaves has ceased its thrill.
The night is so fair, it stirs the soul’s deep desire,
What a tranquil evening, what a silent fire.
The river flows gently, with ripples so light,
The moon’s silver glow bathes the water in light.
Faintly I hear a voice softly sing, what a tranquil evening…
Tao Nanfeng hummed the tune, though she was slightly off-key. She stood with her arms crossed, leaning her left shoulder against the brick pillar of the veranda.
Watching the lively crowd, a slow smile spread across her lips.
Some people were restless by nature, always seeking excitement—Wei Min and Chen Zhilu were a prime example. After a month of backbreaking labor building houses, where every waking moment was dedicated to work, they were finally free.
The sudden release had them acting like madmen. They grappled playfully, lunging and wrestling with each other, and the crowd erupted in laughter.
“Go on, Chen Zhilu! Pin Wei Min down!”
“Don’t back down, Wei Min! Take Chen Zhilu down and you’re the champion!”
“What’s taking you guys so long? You haven’t settled this yet!”
The crowd, always eager for a show, grew increasingly rowdy. Their cheers were joined by Ye Qin and Xiao Aiyun, who were shouting along with the boys.
Despite their braided hair and floral headbands, the two girls were tomboys at heart.
What had started as lighthearted horseplay escalated as the cheering spurred Wei Min and Chen Zhilu’s competitive spirits. They threw their full weight into the struggle, lost their balance, and tumbled to the ground.
“Go on! Go on!”
Amidst the chants of support, disaster struck.
The two men suddenly felt the ground give way. With a massive splash, they plummeted into the excavated pond.
Half-filled with water, the pit had been forgotten in the darkness.
“Oh no! They fell in!”
“Quick, help them out!”
“Where’s a bamboo pole? A torch? A flashlight?”
After a frantic scramble, they finally hauled the two men to shore. Wei Min, having swallowed a mouthful of water, sat dripping wet on the bank, coughing violently.
Chen Zhilu knew how to swim, but the sudden plunge had left him shaken.
He stood at the water’s edge for a long moment, dazed and trembling, before finally gasping, “Hurry… we need to build a fence around this pond.”
The educated youth, who had just been singing and dancing around the bonfire, now faced a grim reality: the pond, while useful, was a safety hazard.
“We have work tomorrow,” Qiao Yadong proposed. “Let’s build the fence tonight.”
Wei Min finally stopped coughing and scrambled to his feet, stomping his foot in frustration. “Fine! We’ll go cut trees tonight and drive a row of stakes into the ground.”
Tao Nanfeng thought of the bamboo grove they had visited that evening.
“We could dig up a few baskets of bamboo and plant them around the edge,” she suggested.
Bamboo, with its resilient strength and unassuming grace, was the very embodiment of a gentleman—humble, yet noble.
Her voice was soft, but Qiao Yadong heard her clearly. Across the bonfire, he saw her standing under the eaves of the corridor, as slender and straight as a stalk of bamboo.
“Alright! Wei Min, Chen Zhilu, go change. A few of you guys, grab your hoes and come with me to the bamboo grove at the west end.” Qiao Yadong organized the effort with practiced efficiency.
Seeing there was nothing for her to do, Tao Nanfeng tidied up and went inside to rest. She had barely settled into bed when a series of thwacks sounded outside her window, followed by a low, hushed voice.
“Tao Nanfeng, are you asleep?”
She threw on a robe and opened the door.
Qiao Yadong, Chen Zhilu, Wei Min, and several other young men stood outside. The flashlight’s beam swept over them, their eyes gleaming with an unreadable light.
“What’s going on?” Tao Nanfeng asked.
Having led the group in building their house over the past month, Tao Nanfeng’s standing among the educated youth had soared. Though she was soft-spoken, she possessed a calming presence that seemed to reassure everyone—as if any problem could be solved simply by telling her.
“Tao Nanfeng, look what we found in the bamboo grove!” Wei Min’s voice was hoarse with excitement. He was cradling a massive stone in his arms.
Wei Min, who had choked on pond water earlier, hadn’t been part of the bamboo-digging crew. But he was never one to sit idle. After changing his clothes, he’d rushed to the grove to join the others in the dark.
Now, he held the stone like a precious treasure, straining to lift it higher. But the rock weighed over a hundred pounds, and after all his effort, he’d only managed to raise it an inch.
Tao Nanfeng bent her knees slightly and slid her hand beneath the stone, taking its weight from him. “What’s so special about this rock?”
Though he was used to her strength by now, Wei Min’s jaw dropped as she effortlessly supported the stone he’d struggled so hard to carry. “You… you’re incredibly strong!”
The commotion woke the other girls. They hurried to the door, their eyes blinking against the sweeping beams of the flashlights. “What’s going on?”
Qiao Yadong wore a look of profound mystery, gesturing for Chen Zhilu to take the floor.
Chen Zhilu pointed to the rock. “Let me tell you, this is no ordinary stone. If my guess is right, this thing is worth a fortune!”
A fortune? Tao Nanfeng’s eyes lit up. She turned the slightly yellowish rock over in her hands, examining it closely.
Their settlement was isolated—a single mud-brick house standing on a flat slope, over a dozen meters from the nearest dirt road. There was no one around to eavesdrop.
Seeing the other girls were all awake, Qiao Yadong stopped whispering. “Chen Zhilu’s family works at a fertilizer factory. He says he’s seen this kind of ore before.”
Xiao Aiyun’s face brightened. “Ore? Does that mean we’re rich?”
Li Huilan leaned in, her eyes scanning the stone in Tao Nanfeng’s hands. The settlement had no electricity, and the night was too dark to see clearly. All she could discern was the rock’s rough surface and the heavy, earthy scent it gave off.
“This rock looks common enough,” Li Huilan said. “Didn’t we dig up plenty of them when we were clearing the foundation?”
Chen Zhilu puffed out his chest, unconvinced. “The ones from the bamboo grove are different from the ones here at the settlement. Even the color is different. Haven’t you noticed?”
Ignoring him, Li Huilan turned a critical eye on Wei Min. “Why are you making Tao Nanfeng hold that thing? Take it from her. She’s strong, but she’s still a girl, you know?”
Wei Min scratched his head sheepishly and reached out to take the stone. Tao Nanfeng just smiled and shook her head, bending down to set the rock on the porch.
Under the flashlight’s beam, Chen Zhilu pointed to the stone. “Look. It’s a grayish-yellow, but if you look closely, you can see red and white crystals embedded in it.”
Tao Nanfeng straightened up, her gaze fixed on the rock. A flicker of doubt stirred in her mind. She hadn’t paid any attention to the stones while cutting bamboo that morning, but now that Chen Zhilu mentioned it, they did seem different from the usual gray-white rock.
Xiao Aiyun, tired of the suspense, pressed him. “Just tell us already! What kind of ore is it? We don’t know anything about this stuff.”
Chen Zhilu had a habit of dangling information just out of reach. Seeing Xiao Aiyun’s impatience, he leaned into the drama. He signaled Qiao Yadong to kill the flashlight, plunging them all into darkness.
Then, Chen Zhilu pulled a box of matches from his pocket and struck one.
Scritch—
A tiny flame flared to life, piercing the gloom.
He slowly brought the match closer to the rock.
One point of light. Two. Three…
Specks of green began to shimmer across the stone’s surface.
“Wow!” Xiao Aiyun’s mouth formed a perfect circle, her eyes wide. “It’s beautiful!”
Li Huilan, however, flinched. “Will-o’-the-wisps!”
The orange flame died, and the world returned to silence.
“Phosphate rock?” Tao Nanfeng’s voice cut through the dark.
Phosphate?
Phosphate was one of the most critical mineral resources for the country’s development. It was the primary raw material for phosphate fertilizer and could be used to produce yellow phosphorus, phosphoric acid, phosphides, and other phosphates.
Even the matchbox in front of them relied on phosphorus.
Xiao Aiyun, trusting Tao Nanfeng implicitly, turned to Chen Zhilu, her excitement palpable. “Aren’t ores usually buried deep underground? How did you find this?”
Qiao Yadong clicked the flashlight back on, a smile playing on his lips. “It was a stroke of luck, really. If Wei Min and Chen Zhilu hadn’t taken that tumble, we never would have been up the mountain digging bamboo at night.
“When we struck the ground, we heard a sharp clink. The light flared up, and countless green sparks flew out. Some of the guys started shouting ‘will-o’-the-wisps’ and ‘ghosts,’ trying to run back down the mountain.
“Luckily, Chen Zhilu kept his head. He calmed us down, examined the rock under the flashlight, and recognized it as phosphate rock—an open-pit vein, and a high-purity one at that.”
Wei Min grinned. “Since it’s just rock, there’s nothing to be afraid of. We dug this piece out and brought it back to show an expert tomorrow. If this is confirmed as an open-pit vein, reporting it will be a massive achievement!”
Tao Nanfeng, however, remained untouched by their excitement. Her lips were pressed thin, her brow furrowed in a slight frown. Qiao Yadong’s heart sank. “What’s wrong?”
“If we report this,” she said, turning to light the kerosene lamp, “what will the farm headquarters do?”
The lamp cast a dim, amber glow, framing her in a soft halo of light.
Her words struck a chord with everyone.
She’s right, they thought. If we report this, Director Luo and his cronies will snatch the credit before we even know what hit us. What’s left for us?
The excitement drained from the room, replaced by a heavy, bitter disappointment.
“We’re the ones who found the phosphate rock,” Wei Min muttered. “If this really is a whole mine, it’ll just be a windfall for Director Luo and Farm Director Jiao.”
Ye Qin scoffed. “Those leaders have been trying to break us from day one. They throw the girls into the pigpens and the rest of us onto road crews. When the storm hit, they didn’t give a damn if we lived or died. Why the hell should we hand them this credit on a silver platter?”
“Exactly!” others chimed in. “We can’t let those bastards get away with it.”
Ye Qin’s words ignited a spark of long-buried resentment, and the group unanimously agreed: they couldn’t report this to the farm headquarters.
But the phosphate mine was a national resource. They couldn’t just keep it for themselves.
Qiao Yadong’s eyes lit up. “What if I secretly invite Xiang Bei over? He might know what to do.”
“Yes, yes! Out of all the leaders here, Xiang Bei is the only one I actually respect.”
“He’s just a road crew captain, but he’s helped us so much.”
“He brought us an iron pot on our first day and taught us how to cook over a fire.”
“And during the storm—if he hadn’t come to lead us to the headquarters, someone would have died when the building collapsed.”
The educated youth spoke one after another, all agreeing to tell Xiang Bei first.
He arrived late that night. After listening to Chen Zhilu’s account, a surge of excitement swelled in Xiang Bei’s chest. He pulled out a piece of iron wire, chipped away two fist-sized pieces of the rock, and stuffed them into his pocket.
“Keep this a secret for now,” he instructed. “Just go about your work as usual. I’ll head down the mountain tomorrow to get an expert’s opinion. We’ll decide what to do when I get back.”