Logging was a significant matter, and although Secretary Tang hadn't entirely pinned his hopes on Qi Fang, he had been keeping a close eye on the situation. As soon as the parts arrived, he received word, and after waiting two more days, he heard the modifications were complete.
It was Qu Mingli who informed him, also suggesting that he bring in someone from another city who was accustomed to operating the old Jicai-50.
"This was Qi Fang's proposal. After all, whether the modifications match the original or not, we need someone familiar with it to test it out."
The suggestion hit the mark. Secretary Tang was genuinely concerned that if his own people only had experience with the new Jicai-50 models, even if Qi Fang's modifications weren't up to par, they wouldn't be able to tell.
Wasting money would be the lesser issue—what truly worried him was sending the machine up the mountain for logging only to find it unusable, causing serious delays.
Qu Mingli had Secretary Tang handle finding the operator to avoid any suspicion, ensuring that even if the test went well, Secretary Tang wouldn’t have lingering doubts.
So, Secretary Tang pulled some strings and borrowed a thirty-something tractor driver from another city, someone who had been operating the Jicai-50 for six or seven years.
"He was among the first to test the machines when they arrived. Rest assured, he’s got plenty of experience—could probably drive it blindfolded," the contact assured Secretary Tang.
Once the man arrived, Secretary Tang personally escorted him to the machinery plant.
Upon arrival, they saw two Jicai-50s parked in the open yard. Secretary Tang studied them and asked, "Which one’s the newly modified one?"
"Test both," Qi Fang replied instead of answering directly. "Let this master operator determine which is the original and which is the modified one."
This was a bold declaration—confidence that his modifications were indistinguishable from the original hydraulic system, even to an experienced operator.
Secretary Tang raised an eyebrow. The young man seemed aloof, but he had nerve to make such a claim. Still, talented youngsters often had their quirks, so he didn’t comment. "Then let’s begin the test."
Master Tang, the borrowed operator, gave Qi Fang a sidelong glance, thinking the claim was absurd. If just anyone could replicate the modifications, what was the point of the original manufacturers?
But it wasn’t his money being spent. If Changshan County wanted to waste resources, that was their business.
Master Tang kept his thoughts to himself. When Secretary Tang looked back at him, he nodded and climbed into the tractor with practiced ease.
Inside, he noticed someone had covered the hydraulic cylinder housing with a metal shell, presumably to prevent visual identification.
A pointless effort, in his opinion. Tractor drivers who worked with these machines daily could tell the difference just by feel, let alone after a hydraulic system overhaul.
Master Tang barely glanced at it before settling into the operator’s seat, adjusting to the unfamiliar Jicai-50, and starting it up.
Soon, the familiar rumble of the engine filled the air, followed by the hydraulic system engaging, and the massive machine roared to life.
Secretary Tang, Qu Mingli, and Qi Fang stood at a distance, watching as Master Tang drove it in circles around the yard. Secretary Tang then pointed toward the back mountain, signaling him to take it off-road.
The true test of a logging tractor was its performance on rough terrain—flat ground meant nothing; it had to handle hills and slopes.
Master Tang raised a hand in acknowledgment and steered the tractor toward the mountain without hesitation.
The cold, rigid metal treads turned over the ground, soon reaching the uphill slope. With ample horsepower, the tractor climbed without any loss of momentum.
By now, Master Tang had gotten the hang of it, returning to the more familiar terrain of the mountains. His handling gradually grew less cautious than when he’d first started.
First, he sought out a steep slope, then a deep ditch—the tractor conquered them all, moving through the mountainous landscape like a creeping vine.
Secretary Tang and the others walked slowly, falling behind, but they still caught sight of the machine navigating the forest with ease.
"The power should be sufficient—otherwise, it wouldn’t make it up that slope," remarked an old tractor driver from Changshan County who had accompanied them, making his judgment at a glance.
As for the mountain itself, the group didn’t climb it, waiting instead at the base for Master Tang to descend. Then they pointed at another logging tractor, the Jicai 50. "Let’s test its towing capacity."
The primary purpose of a logging tractor was, after all, to gather timber. Being able to handle rough terrain wasn’t enough—it had to haul heavy logs.
But since it wasn’t logging season, there was no timber to tow. The only option was to test it by pulling another Jicai 50. Normally, when they needed repairs, they’d use another machine to tow the faulty one.
Soon, Master Tang parked the tractor nearby. Without needing assistance, he and the Changshan County driver secured the other Jicai 50 to the rear with a steel cable.
Once he confirmed the connection was sturdy, Master Tang climbed back into the driver’s seat. After ensuring everyone had retreated to a safe distance, he started the engine.
Under the watchful eyes of the group, the steel cable gradually tightened. Then, seemingly without much effort, the second Jicai 50 was successfully dragged forward.
The old tractor driver from Changshan County observed from the side. "That must be one of the older Jicai 50s. The towing power is impressive."
Master Tang thought the same. After finishing the test, he stopped and reported to Secretary Tang and Qu Mingli, "It’s probably one of the earlier Jicai 50 models."
In any case, it handled smoothly. He didn’t detect any signs of modification—in fact, it felt even more responsive than his own machine.
Secretary Tang instinctively glanced at Qi Fang, whose expression remained completely unchanged. "Let’s test the other one," Qi Fang said.
Master Tang didn’t argue. He climbed into the second tractor—after all, he was here to test the machines, so he might as well test them thoroughly.
This one also had an iron casing over its hydraulic system, identical in placement to the previous machine, making it impossible to tell them apart.
Master Tang sat down and started the engine as usual. But after driving just a short distance, he couldn’t help but frown.
As he proceeded uphill, climbed slopes, and crossed ditches, his frown deepened. By the time he finished testing the towing capacity, he remained seated in the tractor for a long while without moving.
Only when the others gathered around did he finally step down, though his brow remained furrowed. Secretary Tang’s heart sank. "Is it that much worse than the other one?"
From a distance, he hadn’t noticed any difference. Was it because he was an outsider who didn’t understand?
But even if he was an outsider, wasn’t there an experienced tractor driver right beside him? He hadn’t spotted any issues either.
Secretary Tang was already considering whether to let it go or ask Qi Fang to make further adjustments when Master Tang looked up and asked, "Are both of these older Jicai 50 models?"
Secretary Tang froze. The others exchanged surprised glances, none of them speaking immediately.
This made Master Tang couldn't help but look at Qi Fang: "Did you all just copy the old Jicai 50 and install another identical one?"
That shouldn’t be possible, given the budget constraints. The funds were personally approved by Secretary Tang, and they only amounted to one-third of the cost of a complete hydraulic system.
Secretary Tang also turned to look at Qi Fang, but Qi Fang countered with a question for Master Tang: "Which one do you find easier to operate?"
This clearly dismissed Master Tang’s assumption, leaving him momentarily stunned. "Aren’t they the same?"
He hadn’t expected this. While operating them earlier, he’d assumed they were identical and hadn’t noticed any signs of modification.
But since Qi Fang asked, he thought carefully before pointing to the first machine. "This one. It runs smoother."
Qi Fang didn’t respond. Instead, he climbed onto the machine and began removing the metal casing covering the hydraulic system.
Master Tang immediately followed, along with the tractor driver from Changshan County. Then Secretary Tang, Qu Mingli, and the others gathered below, waiting to see the result.
Once the casing was removed, Master Tang was the first to inspect it—and the first to show surprise. "It’s not?"
At this point, the others didn’t even need to check. No one knew the hydraulic system of the old Jicai 50 better than Master Tang, who had operated it for six or seven years.
Still, Qi Fang moved to the other machine and dismantled its casing as well. After Master Tang examined it, his surprise turned into something more complicated. "It really isn’t."
This meant Qi Fang hadn’t just replicated the old Jicai 50’s hydraulic system—he’d improved it, making it smoother and more responsive.
Not just Master Tang, but even the people from Changshan County were stunned. The tractor driver from Changshan couldn’t hide his astonishment. "How did you manage this?"
Qi Fang, however, remained unfazed. "It’s not that I improved it. The old Jicai 50 has been used for years and has wear and tear."
Compared to the old machine, the ones in Changshan County had only been in use for four years, so their components were less worn.
But even if he’d only matched the performance of the old hydraulic system, it was still impressive. After all, this was a modification—and at what cost?
For a moment, no one spoke. Finally, Secretary Tang glanced at Qu Mingli and said, "He really does have skill."
Since Secretary Tang had praised him, Qu Mingli had to be modest. "We’ll still need to see how it holds up in cold weather. Whether it’s affected or not."
The previous batch with the static hydraulic system had failed in low temperatures, so this addressed the last lingering concern. After a brief pause, Secretary Tang said, "We’ll see then."
Regardless, Qi Fang had succeeded—and done it well. The next test would be winter: whether the modification could last.
After returning, Secretary Tang asked Qu Mingli, "How many tractors in our county are in critical condition and might not survive this winter’s logging?"
"I’ll have the repair shops compile a report," Qu Mingli replied. "Last year’s inspection showed at least three or four were in bad shape."
"Let’s see if this modified one holds up. If it’s still running smoothly by next month, we’ll modify two more before logging season starts."
Secretary Tang considered it. After all, if those machines weren’t modified, they’d likely break down in the mountains anyway—requiring expensive repairs regardless.
On his way back, Qu Mingli ran into Qi Fang and told him about the matter. However, Qi Fang asked him, "What does the bureau plan to do with the replaced components from the hydrostatic system?"
This was something Qu Mingli hadn’t considered. Usually, such discarded parts were treated as scrap.
But since Qi Fang asked, he must have a plan in mind, so Qu Mingli inquired, "Do you want them?"
"Yes," Qi Fang admitted without hesitation. "I want to see if the old hydrostatic system can still be improved."
The truth was, the project he had worked on with his teacher was forcibly halted just before completion. Over the years, he had repeatedly pondered how to perfect it.
Yet no amount of theorizing could compare to practical experimentation. He didn’t want to hand over his teacher’s hard work to others, especially since Wu Xingde had made it clear that the project would never be revived.
His only option was to use these discarded parts, piecing together the experiment bit by bit. Who knew? Maybe, as Yan Xue had said, that day would eventually come.
Without realizing it, Qi Fang had grown more confident that the day would arrive—as if his current period of waiting was all preparation for its arrival.
He also didn’t notice that while his expression remained calm, his eyes were bright, faintly glowing with quiet determination.
Qu Mingli rather liked seeing such spirit in young people and smiled. "Then I’ll notify your factory and have them hand everything over to you."
"Thank you," Qi Fang said sincerely. Qu Mingli then glanced at the direction he was riding. "Heading home?"
"Going to pick up Yan Xue." But Qi Fang wasn’t riding toward the cultivation center—he was heading for Changshan County’s No. 1 Forestry High School.
Yan Xue was taking an exam there today. The school had specially added a seat for her at the back of the classroom. The other students, unfamiliar with her, assumed she was a new transfer.
It had been years since Yan Xue last sat in a classroom like this, whether in her past life or this one. When she first received the test paper, she felt a brief moment of disorientation.
But after seeing the questions, she steadied herself, wrote her name neatly at the top, and began answering methodically.
Yan Xue looked young for her age, so sitting among teenagers who appeared much older didn’t seem out of place.
Yet her composed demeanor stood out distinctly. The boy sitting next to her couldn’t help glancing at her, then at her paper, before his gaze finally settled on her answers.
She was writing pretty fast—was this new girl actually that good at studying? Or was she just guessing?
Since he was guessing his way through the test anyway, the boy casually copied a couple of her answers. After the exam, when the class compared answers—damn, hers were correct!
By the time he looked around for Yan Xue again, she was already gone. The same pattern repeated in the following subjects, quickly turning her into the class’s mysterious new girl.
As soon as the mysterious Yan Xue stepped out of the school gates, she spotted a familiar tall figure in the crowd.
The man leaned against his bicycle. When he saw her, he turned to say something to the person beside him, who promptly opened a wide-mouthed thermos and scooped out a bowl of milky-white ice cream.
The thermos was specially designed—its wide opening could fit ice cream bars, unlike regular thermoses at home.
Handing over a dime, the man passed the ice cream and spoon directly to Yan Xue. "All done with the exams?"
It was the middle of July, and the weather was indeed quite hot. Yan Xue took a spoonful of the shaved ice and instantly felt the coolness melt in her mouth.
"The exams are all over, and the results should be out in a few days," Yan Xue said after a couple of bites. Since they were outside, it wasn’t appropriate to share with Qi Fang, so she deliberately left some at the bottom of the bowl.
Qi Fang noticed and silently finished the rest, spoonful by spoonful, before handing the bowl back to the vendor.
The vendor, pleased with his prompt payment, rinsed the bowl while smiling and asked, "It’s so hot today—won’t you buy another bowl for your little sister?"
Qi Fang immediately shot him a look. "What makes you think she’s my sister?" His gaze was dark and unreadable.
The vendor froze. If she wasn’t his sister, why was he waiting for her? Wasn’t today the day for middle school exams?
Seeing the vendor’s expression grow increasingly puzzled, Yan Xue quickly nudged Qi Fang. "Let’s go back. We can buy some more shaved ice later for Grandma and Jigang."
As for little Qi Yanyu, a single taste would be enough—too much cold food could upset a child’s stomach.
But they couldn’t let the little one know they’d already had some outside. Yan Xue smiled and said, "If Yanyu doesn’t eat any, then Mom and Dad won’t either."
The chubby little boy, though still craving more, was successfully pacified. He even offered his half-licked spoon to his mother so she could have a taste, making Yan Xue’s conscience twinge slightly.
But only slightly. The very next day, she sneaked an ice pop at work behind the little one’s back. With the recent heatwave, it had become common for everyone to bring ice pops to share.
A few days later, the exam results came out. Not only had Yan Xue passed, but she had also scored well in every subject. Her file could now be transferred, and she would officially start school soon.
Since she already had her junior high school diploma, this was essentially a transfer—except she wouldn’t be attending classes on campus regularly.
With that matter settled, Yan Xue’s experiment of growing mushrooms in glass jars finally bore fruit.
When the first tiny buds appeared, the entire center was amazed. Everyone, including Zhuang Qixiang, took turns changing into clean clothes just to take a look.
After all, Yan Xue had only said she’d give it a try—who would’ve thought sawdust could actually produce mushrooms?
But as they checked day after day, the buds not only sprouted but grew larger, maturing quickly.
Two weeks later, they harvested their first batch of fresh mushrooms. Though small, they were undeniably a success.
Zhuang Qixiang personally supervised the picking, staring at the glass jars in wonder. "Who knew sawdust could do this?"
At least wood scraps from logs or substandard timber were still wood—this was just leftover sawdust from processing, the kind people usually burned for fuel, complaining about how slow it was to catch fire.
In truth, growing mushrooms in jars initially resembled cultivating mycelium, with the jars fully colonized by fungal threads in about 30 days.
But to encourage fruiting, they had to mimic the natural conditions of log cultivation as closely as possible.
Yan Xue and Guo Chang'an divided the jars into several groups, varying light exposure, humidity, and temperature. The results showed clear differences in bud formation.
The best growth came from jars kept at room temperature, shaded, and kept moist with daily misting. Ear buds appeared in about ten days.
This batch of wood ear mushrooms was the first to be harvested. After being picked and dried, Yan Xue brought over a pot and set up a makeshift stove in the courtyard of the cultivation center.
"Let's compare them—from their water absorption when soaked to their texture. We'll soak, stir-fry, and taste them right here at the center."
Since transferring to the cultivation center, Zhuang Qixiang had already done plenty of things he’d never tried before—selling mushroom spawn, organizing tours, and now even food tasting.
But since they were working in research, some things had to be tested firsthand. Without complaint, he carefully followed Yan Xue’s instructions for comparison.
Compared to those grown on logs, the mushrooms cultivated in sawdust were noticeably thinner, lacking the plumpness of the log-grown variety.
After soaking and stir-frying, their texture was softer and more glutinous, even turning mushy if overcooked, unlike the chewy resilience of log-grown mushrooms.
"These don’t taste as good," Zhuang Qixiang remarked, pointing at the sawdust-grown batch with his chopsticks. The others nodded in agreement.
However, Zhou Wenhui thought for a moment and added, "Elderly people and children might prefer them, especially those with few teeth left."
Though dentures were available at the time, many elderly folks couldn’t afford them and had to stick to soft, easily chewable foods.
Guo Chang'an stood nearby, jotting down notes in his notebook. Only after everyone had spoken did he say, "One jar can yield over half a pound of fresh mushrooms."
"Over half a pound?" The group was genuinely surprised. A one-meter-long log only produced about five or six pounds—how could such a small jar compare?
And logs used solid wood, while the jars relied on sawdust—and this was just the beginning of their research...
Seeing Guo Chang'an nod, the others fell silent. With that kind of yield, a slightly inferior taste and thinner, smaller mushrooms didn’t seem like such a big deal.
Higher output meant lower prices, making it affordable for those who couldn’t have it before.
"But how many years can you harvest from one planting?" Zhuang Qixiang pondered before asking the question on everyone’s mind.
No one could say for sure. Zhuang Qixiang looked at Guo Chang'an, who in turn looked at Yan Xue. After a moment, Yan Xue said, "We’ll know by next year."
"Then we’ll keep researching," Zhuang Qixiang said. After all, if Yan Xue hadn’t suggested the idea, he wouldn’t have believed sawdust could grow mushrooms in the first place.
While they were still discussing, a guard from the security post arrived at the gate. The group immediately invited him to taste the dishes.
Chopsticks were thrust into the guard’s hands before he could refuse, but he first delivered his message: "There’s a woman in her forties at the gate asking for Accountant Zhou."
A woman in her forties—that covered a lot of possibilities, from Huang Fengying to Zhou Wenhui’s own mother or even her landlord.
Zhou Wenhui went out to check and soon returned with the woman, introducing her to the group: "This is my mother."
It was Mother Zhou’s first visit to the center, and she seemed a little uneasy. Fortunately, Yan Xue already knew her and quickly brought her a chair, urging her to join the tasting.
But Mother Zhou was gentle-natured—no matter what she tried, she insisted everything was delicious. She stayed until noon when Zhou Wenhui got off work, then left with her.
In the afternoon, Mother Zhou didn’t return—she’d likely taken the bus back to Chengshui. Zhou Wenhui saw her off before coming back to work, her expression noticeably troubled.
Yan Xue immediately recalled Father Zhou's previous visit when she saw Zhou Wenhui and took the opportunity to ask her privately when no one was around, "Is everything alright at home?"
After being rebuffed by Zhou Wenhui last time, Father Zhou hadn’t shown up again, but it didn’t take much to guess he wouldn’t give up so easily.
Sure enough, anger flashed across Zhou Wenhui’s face. "That man—my father—actually told his factory director that I could arrange for the director’s son to get a position at the center. He even sent my mother to persuade me."
The audacity! It wasn’t just Father Zhou’s boss’s son—even the county forestry bureau’s leadership had tried and failed to pull strings to get someone in.
Yan Xue was speechless. Thinking of Mother Zhou’s character, she still asked, "And what did your mother say?"
At the mention of Mother Zhou, Zhou Wenhui finally exhaled. "She told me not to get involved no matter what—that it would never end, and I worked too hard to get this job."
Mother Zhou still cared for her daughter. After all, she had once helped Zhou Wenhui keep secrets from Father Zhou, letting him believe Zhou Wenhui was really pregnant.
But Zhou Wenhui was still furious. She had made it crystal clear to Father Zhou—she was nothing more than an old ginseng root he had sold off to the Liu family. Yet he still saw her as a resource to exploit.
She could ignore him, but it was exhausting. Worse, Weiguo was still working in Chengshui. What if her father, failing to pressure her, went after Weiguo instead?
Just as her anger flared, Yan Xue’s calm voice cut in. "This can’t go on forever. Haven’t you thought about putting a permanent stop to it?"
"I thought I made myself clear enough when I got married," Zhou Wenhui said helplessly. Back then, she had fully intended to cut ties with him for good.
For three years afterward, she hadn’t exchanged a single word with him, and he hadn’t reached out either. But the moment she was transferred to the county and Weiguo to the town, everything changed.
This kind of half-severed relationship was indeed troublesome, especially since Zhou Wenhui wasn’t far enough away to simply ignore him.
Yan Xue looked at her. "If reasoning won’t work, maybe it’s time to try another approach. Not stopping him from coming—but making sure he doesn’t dare to come again."
