“You’re just a young girl—do you actually know what you’re doing? Don’t end up breaking the tractor even further. If we all get stranded here and can’t leave, are you going to take responsibility?”
“Exactly. Don’t take on the task if you don’t have the tools for it. Don’t go making a fool of yourself and embarrassing us all later.”
“Look at her go, acting like she’s so capable. She just loves the limelight. Honestly, it’s better to keep a low profile in life.”
Hearing these malicious comments from the educated youths (zhiqing), Li Luoyu hadn’t even had a chance to speak before the young man who had apologized on the train began to curse them out. “I say, what is wrong with you people? Just because you’re useless, you have to be jealous of a young girl who knows more than you? Have you no shame?”
“She’s trying to help out of the goodness of her heart. How is that a fault? You useless lot only know how to make sarcastic remarks and stand on the sidelines. Does that make you feel capable?”
“If you’re so talented, why don’t you step up? What are you yapping for? Just a bunch of flapping gums and foul mouths. You probably aren’t even decent people in your daily lives.”
“Uncle Yuan, if she fixes it in a bit, don’t let them ride. Let them walk back on their own two feet!”
Old Uncle Yuan nodded. “Fine! I agree!”
One female zhiqing, indignant, pointed at the man’s nose. “Zhou Qi, you’re a zhiqing too!”
Zhou Qi rolled his eyes. “Am I the same as you? I’m a ‘good zhiqing’ who knows how to admit when he’s wrong!”
Old Uncle Yuan gave a hard tug, and a clump of yellow dirt spun out of the filter from the momentum. Suddenly, a boy wearing glasses in the back row cried out, “It’s clear! It actually worked!”
“Uncle Yuan, the spark plug gap is too wide. You need to adjust it back to 1.5 millimeters.”
“Next, let’s look at the fuel pump. Turn the crankshaft manually with the crank handle; I need to listen to the sound.” Li Luoyu focused her mind and listened intently. The vibration of the tractor’s frame traveled through her eardrums and into her brain, incredibly clear.
“The pump membrane isn’t broken, but the connecting rod is worn. Wrap it twice with electrical tape for a temporary fix. When we get to the commune, find a piece of cowhide, hammer it into a gasket, and replace it.”
With a loud “Tu—!” of ignition, black smoke mixed with dust puffed out of the exhaust pipe. Old Uncle Yuan excitedly slapped the driver’s seat. “Girl, you’re amazing! With skills like these, you could be the director of the Agricultural Machinery Station!”
Li Luoyu smiled. “Low tire pressure wastes fuel, too. When we get to the commune, find a pump and fill them up. Then put some grease on the chain. This ‘iron beast’ has been with you for a few years; it’s developed a bit of an old temper.”
Old Yuan burst into laughter and patted the tractor’s casing. “Isn’t that the truth! No major illnesses, but it has a temper tantrum every now and then. Just the other day, it left me stranded in the middle of nowhere, making me carry my toolbox for over a mile!”
Li Luoyu joined in. “Machines can’t talk, but the tightness of the parts is their heartbeat. Keep an eye on those little noises from now on. It’s like a person coughing or sneezing; fix it early, and it won’t grow into a major disaster.”
Old Yuan suddenly stopped laughing and thanked her solemnly. “Girl, thank you! From now on, in the Hongqi Commune, I’ve got your back. If you need anything, just find Old Uncle Yuan.”
Li Luoyu smiled but didn’t reply. She could handle village matters just fine on her own.
“By the way, girl, which production brigade are you going to?” Old Uncle Yuan knew this group was being sent down to the countryside. Originally, his attitude was the same as it was toward the other zhiqing—neither close nor cruel, just a bit of a detached onlooker. But this girl was different. She was talented; she fixed his tractor in just a few words, which was far better than his own blind fumbling. If such a talent belonged to his brigade, he’d have to have a good talk with the Captain to make sure she wasn’t bullied.
Li Luoyu replied with a smile, “Xiangyang Brigade.”
Old Uncle Yuan slapped his thigh. “Well, that’s just perfect! If anything happens, come straight to me. I’ll get it sorted for you!”
Li Luoyu nodded and smiled. People in the Northeast were truly warm-hearted!
“Let’s go!” With a shout from Old Yuan, everyone swarmed onto the tractor, grabbing onto the railings.
The other zhiqing looked at Li Luoyu with strange expressions, unable to understand why such a capable and beautiful girl had been sent down.
“She actually knows how… we underestimated her.”
“Hey, how do you think she knows how to fix tractors? You think she was a technician sent down from an agricultural machinery factory?”
“Who knows? Some people are just different from us—born with natural genius!”
Old Master Cui was the type to ask whatever was on his mind. “Luoluo, how do you know how to fix tractors?”
Li Luoyu tilted her head and blinked her large, innocent eyes. “I’m so smart, don’t I just learn it as soon as I see it? Grandpa Cui, you’re the same way, right?”
The “genius” persona was a good one; she planned to play it up to pave the way for all the various skills she would display later.
Old Master Cui choked. Was he not smart? He had stood at the front of the tractor for a long time before he figured it out. Remembering his apprentice—her monstrously brilliant father—the words at the tip of his tongue shifted. “That’s right. Our Luoluo is naturally gifted.”
Old Lady Xu’s shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter. Hidden in her sleeve, her hand was secretly giving Li Luoyu a thumbs-up.
Old Master Pei and Old Master Li both looked at the sky and the ground, pretending to be very busy to avoid bursting into laughter.
This girl is quite the actress!
Someone in the zhiqing group heard this and let out a disdainful sneer. Li Luoyu didn’t care; a faint smile played on her lips. She wasn’t about to waste her breath on a mere clown.
Old Master Yang seemed to remember something and said in a low voice, “Back then in the Gobi Desert, I also ‘learned as soon as I saw it.’ I was watching how a cactus bore fruit.”
Li Luoyu looked up. The old man’s eyes reflected the brilliant sunlight, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes held a history even heavier than hers.
“That time the water ran out, only Old Wang and I were left in the research team. He held a cactus and cried, so I taught him how to look at the density of the needles: the ones with sparse needles hold more water. If you peel the skin, you can suck out half a mouthful of pulp. Later… Old Wang didn’t make it. Before he passed, he said I was ‘truly capable.'” Old Master Yang suddenly laughed, a sound wrapped in regret. “It wasn’t capability. It was just an attempt born of desperation.”
Li Luoyu’s eyes suddenly stung—for this era where life was traded for survival, and for these old souls who planted hope in the barren wilderness. Looking at the green rice fields receding past the tractor, she turned her face up and smiled. “Grandpa Yang, do you believe it? In the future, enjoying the shade under giant stalks of grain won’t be a dream. Even the cactus lands will turn into great granaries!”
Old Master Yang was stunned. When he turned to look at her, he realized the girl’s eyes held something even brighter than the sun. In the distance, the sound of frogs rose in chorus, and the chugging of the tractor startled a few white egrets into flight. He suddenly remembered that Old Wang had said something similar before he died: “I firmly believe that one day, even the desert will bloom with flowers.”
“Good,” Old Master Yang’s eyes grew moist. “Grandpa will wait for that day.”