Snow fell more heavily, yet the open space before the farm headquarters’ office building was filled with laughter.
The long-awaited distribution of cured meat had finally arrived.
“Oh, wow, this year’s batch is smoked perfectly! I can smell the aroma from here!”
“Who was the one who stole the meat but then brought it back? Well done, whoever that was.”
“You’re telling me! Otherwise, who knows how much the leaders would have intercepted this time. I remember last year, we only got a few pieces at the New Year’s Eve banquet. This year, we’re getting a huge slab before the holiday even starts!”
Wei Min grinned ear to ear, clutching the two strings of cured meat he’d received. Not only was there meat to eat, but the whole theft incident had been swept under the rug.
Seeing Director Jiao scared shitless by Xiang Bei—practically begging to leave the headquarters—was simply too satisfying!
Tao Nanfeng also breathed a sigh of relief. Xiao Aiyun had been gripping her arm so tightly her entire body was trembling, which had made Tao Nanfeng incredibly nervous.
Fortunately, after the public security officers left with the snow, although Jiao Liang had been shouting about investigating the thief, his negotiation with Xiang Bei seemed to have completely extinguished the fire.
But the joyful mood came to a jarring halt the moment Xiang Bei stepped into Wei Min’s dorm at Educated Youth Post No. 6.
He slammed his hand on the table, his expression grim. “Whose idea was this? Putting the female students in danger—you’ve shamed every man here!”
His anger flared as he recalled the sight of Tao Nanfeng and Xiao Aiyun shivering in the snow, waiting in terror to learn their fate. If it hadn’t started snowing just in time to mask their scent, the police dogs would have found the thief in an instant. How would they have even begun to explain that?
In Xiang Bei’s view, a man ought to shoulder a man’s responsibilities. If you chose to steal or rob, you should bear the consequences yourself. How could you drag girls into it and make them live in fear? On the battlefield, it was always men who charged at the front. How could it be acceptable for Tao Nanfeng to take the lead while a group of men hid behind her and reaped the benefits?
Chen Zhilu, knowing he was in the wrong, lowered his head and stepped forward.
“It… it was my idea,” he mumbled. “I thought Tao Nanfeng knew the tunnel better, and she’s stronger. Xiao Aiyun… she volunteered to go with her.”
Xiang Bei sneered. “Women can hold up half the sky—does that mean men should act like cowards hiding in their shells?”
Chen Zhilu and Hu Huanxin flushed. They wanted to protest, but then remembered how they’d merely played the distraction in the tunnel while Tao Nanfeng did all the real work—smashed the rocks, grabbed the bags.
Their faces burned with shame, and they fell silent.
Wei Min scratched his head in desperation. “Farm Director Xiang, we weren’t bullying her; we trusted her! We did consider it—if things had gone wrong, we never would have let her or Xiao Aiyun take the fall.”
Chen Zhilu finally found his voice, thumping his chest. “Anything that happens, I’ll take full responsibility!”
“We didn’t think this through,” Qiao Yadong added softly. “We were just so desperate to keep the cured meat when we saw Jiao Liang and his friends taking off with it.”
The image of Xiao Aiyun stepping forward to take the blame flashed through his mind. Overwhelmed with guilt, Qiao Yadong finally lowered his usually proud head and apologized sincerely. “It was my fault. I was careless and put our friends in danger. If you have to scold someone, Director Xiang, scold me.”
Xiang Bei glared at the young people, his eyes sharp as blades.
“A plan is only as good as its execution. Your problem wasn’t a lack of planning—it was your kind of planning. You chose a path of deception.”
They had never heard anyone speak this way to them before. Every one of the educated youth looked up, their gazes fixed on Xiang Bei.
“There are two kinds of schemes: the dark and the open. A dark scheme hides in the shadows, leaving a trail of clues and flaws. An open scheme, however, moves with the tide—it is bold and above board. You are educated, you are intelligent, but the smarter you are, the easier it is to stray from the path. If luck hadn’t been on your side today, how would you have escaped? What if your futures were stained by this?”
Each word struck like a hammer blow, echoing in the hearts of the educated youth.
Xiang Bei’s gaze swept over them, finally settling on Wei Min. “Wei Min, you are the Chief of the Security Department. You knew Jiao Liang and his men were stealing the cured meat. Why didn’t you openly bring your security team to stop them? The meat is farm property; no one can take it without the Chief of the Logistics Department’s permission. You would have been performing your duties, acting with full authority and in the light of day.”
Wei Min froze, speechless.
“Do you know what an open scheme is? It is leveraging your advantages and acting in accordance with the situation to achieve your goal.”
Xiang Bei turned to Qiao Yadong. “You are the class monitor of the Zhiqing Settlement. You have more than just the twenty educated youth from Jiangcheng to rely on—you have over two hundred of them here at the farm. If Jiao Liang had taken all the cured meat down the mountain, would he have dared to call the police and have them bring dogs up here if you had mobilized the entire collective to stop him? The law does not punish a crowd.”
It felt as if a veil had been torn away, and Qiao Yadong saw the world in a new light. The collective—the power of the group was the greatest force of all.
Xiang Bei turned his gaze to Tao Nanfeng. “Tao Nanfeng, as the deputy captain of the road construction team, you were in charge while Captain Mao was away. Why did you let Chen Zhilu drag you along with his foolish plan? Would it have been so hard to have your team block the path down the mountain and set up a warning sign to stop Jiao Liang?”
Tao Nanfeng’s eyes lit up. Right! Why didn’t I think of that?
Xiang Bei’s voice turned earnest. “Petty theft, breaking the rules, taking the back way… none of it is acceptable. You only give your enemies leverage to use against you. We need open schemes, not dark ones. Do I make myself clear?”
Chen Zhilu jumped up, his face flushed with excitement. “Exactly! Open schemes, not dark ones. I would have rather thrown myself at Liu Bin’s feet and begged like a fool than act like a thief.”
He had managed to steal the meat, but the terror had been overwhelming. The mere mention of police dogs had scared him out of his wits.
Hu Huanxin scratched his head. “Got it. From now on, no more breaking rules or taking shortcuts. We do things the right way, in the open.”
Wei Min and Qiao Yadong squared their shoulders and replied loudly, “Yes! We hear you.”
Our strengths, the forces we can unite, the rules we can leverage—we need to think all this through first.
Tao Nanfeng and Xiao Aiyun exchanged a glance and nodded. “Yes, we understand.”
As an educated youth, Tao Nanfeng had grown up in a sheltered environment with parents working at a university. She had never heard of this concept of “open schemes.” The idea struck a chord, and her mind immediately began to race.
My stepmother deliberately let Tao You get hurt so she could take her place as the one sent to the countryside. That was a dark scheme, something that couldn’t stand the light of day. Why was I retreating?
If I simply reported the situation to the Employment Office and the Sent-down Youth Office—asked for their help—her plot would be exposed to the sun. She would never get what she wanted.
A single conversation with this man felt more valuable than ten years of schooling.
With this new light in her heart, she felt the darkness receding. Now she saw that even the most elaborate plots were nothing more than the petty tricks of ghouls and goblins.
Seeing how deeply his words had affected the educated youth, Xiang Bei knew they had truly listened.
His tone shifted as he added, “In the end, you mobilized the crowd to divide the cured meat together. That was an open scheme. Very good.”
Wei Min, completely subdued by Xiang Bei’s scolding, beamed with excitement at the sudden praise. “Farm Director Xiang, you think we did well?”
Xiang Bei nodded, then shifted his gaze to Chen Zhilu. “You knew how to leverage your partner’s strengths, which was smart. But…”
His voice suddenly sharpened, and an aura of killing intent radiated from him like a winter gale. “You need to understand one thing: You’re a man!”
The words felt like a blade scraping across Chen Zhilu’s cheek, leaving a stinging pain.
An old saying went: The path to the mountain of books is forged through diligence; the vast sea of learning is crossed with a boat of hardship.
Scholars who excelled were rarely the naturally gifted; they were the “dull” ones who put in the grunt work.
Chen Zhilu was no scholar—he’d never been good at studying—but he was truly intelligent. Yet that same intelligence bred a habit of laziness, a constant search for shortcuts.
Among the educated youth, he was known for flouting rules and concocting new tricks. In his eyes, anything that could be used to his advantage was fair game.
But now, Xiang Bei was sternly reminding him of the cost of such a mindset.
If a teacher or parent had criticized him, Chen Zhilu would have simply let the words drift past. But Xiang Bei was different. He was a war hero, a Vanguard Unit Commander, a man who had stood up for the educated youth and fought for their benefits.
His words struck Chen Zhilu to the core, awakening a deep sense of shame. He wished he could bury his head in his chest. Letting Tao Nanfeng help him steal the cured meat had been a dirty trick.
As a man, his duty was to protect women and cherish the weak. Instead, he had exploited Tao Nanfeng’s trust and dragged her into theft, nearly causing a disaster.
A wave of remorse washed over him. Chen Zhilu stepped forward and bowed deeply to Tao Nanfeng, his voice trembling.
“I’m sorry, Tao Nanfeng. This was my fault. I promise I’ll protect you from now on, just like a younger sister.”
Tao Nanfeng was stunned by how deeply Xiang Bei’s criticism had cut Chen Zhilu. She took a half-step back, her lips pressed tight.
She waved a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing.”
Xiang Bei turned his gaze to Xiao Aiyun. He stared at her in silence, his expression unreadable. The prolonged silence brought tears to her eyes, which welled up and threatened to spill over.
Xiang Bei sighed softly. He had always dealt with soldiers, men he could speak plainly to, and he had no experience with young women.
He hadn’t wanted to criticize Xiao Aiyun, but these six educated youth were all so spirited and stubborn in their own way. If he didn’t address their problems now, they’d face much bigger ones later.
They were the future of the farm. Only by growing and maturing together could they build a better life here.
“Xiao Aiyun, your problem is… a lack of self-awareness.”
At his words, the tears she had been holding back finally broke free. She began to sob uncontrollably.
Xiang Bei’s brow furrowed, but he hardened his heart and pressed on. “You need to know your limits. You lack agility and strength, so why did you insist on joining a group to steal cured meat?”
Xiao Aiyun didn’t dare argue back. She just kept crying.
“You followed along because you knew you could rely on Tao Nanfeng. But did you ever stop to think that your presence was a burden? Your dependence only caused her more trouble.”
Tao Nanfeng started to speak, wanting to say she didn’t mind, but Xiang Bei’s sharp gaze silenced her.
“Tao Nanfeng didn’t reject you because she cares for you,” Xiang Bei said. “But that doesn’t mean you can just take advantage of her, does it?”
Xiao Aiyun burst into loud sobs, wailing as she repented. “I’m sorry! It’s my fault! I was wrong! I’ll reflect on my mistakes, I’ll do a deep self-critique!”
Outside, under the eaves, a line of educated youth stood pressed against the windows, eavesdropping.
This was the first time they’d ever heard Xiang Bei lecture anyone. For the first time, someone was so stern, pointing out their flaws with such ruthless precision. The listeners outside dared not even breathe.
The only sounds were the soft shush and rustle of snow falling on the ground, the roof, and the branches.
Xiang Bei finally looked at Tao Nanfeng, his gaze holding a gentleness even he didn’t realize was there.
“Tao Nanfeng, you need to learn how to say no. When you don’t want to do something, or can’t do it, speak up. If you don’t learn to refuse, your life will be very difficult. Do you understand?”
Tao Nanfeng met his gaze. The scar on his cheek looked like a red earthworm, the black stitches twisted and prominent, ruining the symmetry of his face.
Yet, after staring at it for a moment, she found it strangely comforting, not frightening at all.
Tao Nanfeng knew right from wrong. Though she was taciturn, she possessed a keen sense of whether others meant her well or ill.
Since childhood, she had been taught to be self-reliant, kind, and helpful. She’d been told to study hard, obey her elders, and strive to become a useful member of society and the nation.
She learned to be responsible, to repay kindnesses, and to be strict with herself while lenient toward others.
But no one had ever told her how to say no.
A warm current surged in her heart as she nodded firmly. “I will.”