The person was recommended by Liu Daniu, who heard he had been rejected and felt anxious for Qi Fang.
But before a day had passed, Xu Wenli came to ask for him. "What on earth is the town’s machinery repair factory thinking? Letting someone with such skill slip through their fingers."
"So Qi Fang really worked at the town’s machinery repair factory?" Liu Daniu had only heard rumors and wasn’t entirely sure.
"If he hadn’t worked there, how could he have such skills?" Xu Wenli recounted how Qi Fang had repaired the machine tool that day and even fixed the small loudspeaker. "I’m not afraid to admit it—my two apprentices combined aren’t half as good as him."
He couldn’t say this in front of his apprentices, of course, so he could only vent to Liu Daniu. "You have to lend him to me. How can your sapling cultivation be as short-handed as my workshop?"
Liu Daniu found his insistence amusing. "I never said I wouldn’t lend him to you." After a pause, he mentioned the training quota incident. "It might have been the same person who blocked him before."
Xu Wenli frowned at this. "Will this ever end? What does it matter to them if he works as a chainsaw operator in our forestry center?"
"I think Qi Fang must be feeling stifled too," Liu Daniu said. "Even when he stayed at my place before, he never said a word—just kept his head down and worked."
Xu Wenli thought about it. Qi Fang had indeed been quietly looking for work all day. "Maybe it’s for the best he didn’t go to that training. Why waste such talent on logging?"
He sighed. "It’s a shame our forestry center has so few machines. The small repair shop is already fully staffed, or I’d have pulled strings to get him in there."
"We’ll see," Liu Daniu said, at a loss for solutions. "We’ve added four tractors and two chainsaws this year. Maybe when logging starts, we’ll be short-handed again."
With Qi Fang’s skills, working as a chainsaw operator was a waste. And even if he wanted to, someone in town was blocking him.
But transferring someone within the forestry center was easy. After leaving Liu Daniu’s place, Xu Wenli went straight to notify Qi Fang.
At the time, the family had just finished dinner. The Second Old Lady was washing dishes in the main room and couldn’t help glancing at Qi Fang, surprised at how quickly her grandson-in-law had acted.
After Xu Wenli left, Yan Xue smiled and asked her husband, "So I don’t need to pack lunch for you these next few days?"
"It’s only temporary," Qi Fang said calmly, helping his younger brother-in-law with his homework.
Unlike Yu Yongzhi, he couldn’t just waltz into the small repair shop whenever he pleased. The only way was to show what he was capable of.
He had always kept a low profile before—even when helping Liu Weiguo repair a small clock, he hadn’t wanted to borrow tools from the repair shop. Few in the forestry center knew he had these skills.
But before news of Qi Fang’s temporary transfer to the repair shop could spread, word got out that his training quota had been revoked.
On the day the family team resumed sapling cultivation, Guo Chang'an—who usually arrived twenty minutes after meals, giving them plenty of time—showed up half an hour early at Yan Xue’s house.
Yan Xue had just finished breakfast and was fetching a straw hat from the storage shed to shield herself from the sun while working in the mountains. Seeing him so early, she immediately guessed he had something important to say.
Sure enough, Guo Chang'an cut straight to the point: "I have a classmate in town whose father is the Party secretary at the food factory. He knows a lot of people. If you need help, I can make the connection."
No one had expected him to have such connections, given how quietly he kept to himself. With the right maneuvering, the quota issue might indeed be resolved.
Even more surprising was his willingness to reach out to old classmates for Yan Xue and Qi Fang’s sake—especially since he had barely left the house since his injury.
Yan Xue smiled warmly. "Can you wait here a moment? I’ll go ask Qi Fang."
"Sure," Guo Chang'an nodded, leaning against the wall in the courtyard.
But when Yan Xue relayed the offer, Qi Fang wasn’t particularly moved. He wasn’t one to second-guess himself—once he made a decision, it was after careful consideration.
Still, he stepped outside to thank Guo Chang'an and explained that they already had a plan.
"As long as you’ve got it figured out," Guo Chang'an said without pressing further. He shifted his weight against the wall and headed toward the backyard. "I’ll go check on the inoculated logs from yesterday."
Lately, he had been moving around Yan Xue’s house on his own. Whether from practice or familiarity, it wasn’t as difficult as before.
Yan Xue thought for a moment, then grabbed a stool and followed. "Actually, there’s something I wanted to discuss with you."
"Go ahead," Guo Chang'an paused mid-step.
"Let’s sit first," Yan Xue said, placing the stool in his usual spot and waiting with a smile.
Once he was seated, she continued, "We’re running low on spawn, and Qi Fang has already drilled all the logs. The remaining work—you, Grandma, and Jigang can finish it today."
Guo Chang'an nodded. "We’ll cover the logs with straw mats for now. You can move them when you get back."
With his limited mobility, the Second Old Lady’s bound feet, and Yan Jigang being just a child, none of them could easily move the heavy logs.
But that wasn’t what Yan Xue wanted to talk about. "I was wondering if you’d be willing to keep helping us out?"
She glanced back at the logs under the shed. "They need watering every sunny day, airing out every three days, and once the fungus matures, it’ll need harvesting and drying. With just our family, we won’t have enough hands—especially since Qi Fang and I both work."
The most critical part was harvesting the mature fungus before it rotted. Guo Chang'an, having grown up in the forestry center, would know that.
Sure enough, he agreed without much hesitation. "Fine. Just call me whenever you need help."
"Then I’ll pay you as a temporary worker for light labor," Yan Xue said.
That made him frown. "No need. I’d just be sitting around at home anyway."
"That’s not how it works," Yan Xue said, her eyes curving into crescents. "You’re recovering so well—soon enough, the forestry center might assign you work. If I’m taking you away from that, how can I not pay you?"
But even if the forestry center gave him a job, it would probably just be watching the equipment shed. Who would expect much from a disabled man?
Guo Chang'an was proud. The thought of living off the forestry center’s pity instead of his own efforts made his lips press into a tight line.
Yan Xue understood—which was why she wanted to hire him. "Besides, you’re good at spawn cultivation. I’d like to keep working with you next year, if you’re willing."
Truthfully, Yan Xue could have hired help anywhere. The only reason she asked him was to give him a way forward.
But Yan Xue had a way of making it impossible to refuse her kindness—because it was genuine.
After a long silence, Guo Chang'an suddenly asked, "Aren’t you afraid I’ll learn everything and start growing fungus on my own?"
"That’d be even better," Yan Xue laughed. "If the whole forestry center starts growing fungus, I won’t have to work so hard—I’ll just sell the spawn."
Seeing Guo Chang'an hesitate, her smile widened. "Some businesses aren’t ones where just because others are doing them, I can’t make money. There are always ways to earn if you think creatively. I can grow mushrooms, cultivate fungal strains—and if others learn how to do that too, I can sell the materials for cultivating them."
Her eyes sparkled with a light that seemed to pierce straight to the heart. "Isn’t there a saying, ‘Heaven won’t starve a blind sparrow’? I have a brain and hands—I’m not afraid of going hungry."
Yes, he had a brain and hands too. If his hands weren’t as nimble, he’d just have to rely more on his mind. At least he wouldn’t have to depend on others’ pity to get by.
Guo Chang'an looked up. "You don’t have to pay me as a temporary worker doing light labor. Just give me the same rate as before for checking fungal strains—one yuan a day."
After a pause, he added, this time with certainty in his voice, "Once my hands and feet recover more, I’ll be able to do more. Then you can raise my pay."
"Alright. And when Yan Xue and Qi Fang aren’t home, I’d appreciate it if you could keep an eye on my younger brother and grandmother."
When Yan Xue returned, she wanted to settle the payment for the past few days with Guo Chang'an, but he refused outright, insisting that these days were meant as thanks to her. They could discuss future payments later.
After Yan Xue went up the mountain with the family team, Jin Baozhi sought her out privately to ask if she needed money.
The Guo family might not be the most well-informed, but they were always there when it mattered. Yan Xue felt warmed by the gesture and repeated to Jin Baozhi what she’d told Guo Chang'an that morning.
Not everyone who heard the news was as kind-hearted, especially Li Shuwu’s wife, who had recently been on the receiving end of Yan Xue and Qi Fang’s sharp words.
She even smirked at Yan Xue. "Some people just don’t watch their tongues, always criticizing others. Now karma’s come knocking at their door." She seemed to have forgotten how she herself had cried not long ago.
Yan Xue didn’t let it slide. "Are you talking about yourself?" she retorted, then added, "By the way, is your house finished yet?"
Li Shuwu’s wife was left speechless. It was baffling why she kept provoking Yan Xue when she never came out on top.
That evening, she couldn’t help complaining to her husband. "What’s she got to be so smug about? Her Qi Fang just lost his training spot."
Li Shuwu, however, wasn’t as quick to gloat. He sighed wearily. "And your husband lost his job as a chainsaw operator too."
The whole mess had partly been his wife’s fault—she’d pressured him to make more money, claiming they were broke. At that reminder, she fell silent.
But now, not only were they broke, they were in debt. Before long, she piped up again. "Since Qi Fang’s spot opened up, can’t we try to get you back in?"
"You’re dreaming. That whole thing only happened a few months ago. Even if years had passed, do we have the money to pull strings?"
Li Shuwu’s wife went quiet again. She’d never realized how hard it was to be short on money until now, with her husband out of work and their home wrecked by the flood.
Her silence didn’t bother Li Shuwu. He caught his breath and went back to working on the house.
A house wasn’t something you could just slap together—there was still so much to do. Theirs was barely more than a shell, and who knew when they’d actually be able to move in.
Just as he stepped outside, he saw their neighbor Zhang Dawei carrying a sewing machine out of his house—but not toward Xu Wenli’s place.
His wife couldn’t resist commenting. "What’s wrong? Did the flood ruin it? If you don’t want it, give it to us."
Even knowing Li Shuwu’s wife had a sharp tongue, Zhang Dawei couldn’t help but roll his eyes. "No, I’m taking it to Qi Fang to fix."
"Why not take it to Factory Director Xu? Why him?" She scoffed.
"He’s been temporarily assigned to the repair workshop. He fixed all the small speakers in the factory too. Director Xu’s busy these days, so I’m giving Qi Fang a try."
With that, Zhang Dawei walked off, leaving Li Shuwu’s wife stunned. "Qi Fang got transferred to the repair workshop?"
Wasn’t he supposed to be a chainsaw assistant? Since when could he fix things?
And more importantly—
"If Zhang Dawei’s asking him to fix the sewing machine, he’s paying, right?"
Of course he was. Zhang Dawei and Qi Fang weren’t close, so he made it clear upfront. "Last time I went to Director Xu, it cost thirty cents if no parts needed replacing. Not sure about if they did."
Qi Fang didn’t have spare parts on hand either—he’d have to go to town to buy them. "Let me take a look first."
The sewing machine was a "Flying Man" brand, made by the Shanghai No. 1 Sewing Machine Factory. Built to last, like most things from that era, it should’ve held up for decades.
But even the sturdiest things couldn’t withstand a flood. Qi Fang pressed the pedal a couple of times, noticing obvious stiffness in the mechanism, and started by dismantling the foot pedal.
Sure enough, dirty water had seeped inside. He cleaned it, applied some oil, reassembled it, then moved on to other parts.
After taking the whole machine apart, the only issue was the needle—worn down from use and too blunt to function well. Qi Fang asked Zhang Dawei’s wife, "Does the fabric pucker when you use this?"
She nodded. "Yes, it’s been like that for a while. I have to press down hard, and the bottom thread still frays."
Without explaining, Qi Fang went to the Second Old Lady’s room to borrow some scrap fabric. "Try it now. Still fraying?"
The Flying Man sewing machine was famous for handling thin fabrics better than thick ones. Compact and lightweight, it could even be operated with one foot, making it popular with kids who weren’t tall enough to use standard models.
Zhang Dawei’s wife didn’t bother with a stool—she stood and tested it immediately. "It’s not fraying! And it feels smoother too."
"The main spring was loose. I tightened it," Qi Fang said.
That settled it. The couple handed over the payment without hesitation. "If we want to replace the needle, should we buy it ourselves in town, or…?"
"I’ll get it," Qi Fang said. "I’m heading there in a couple of days."
Once the family team finished their work, Yan Xue would surely drag him to town for more herbal medicine.
She’d made it clear—Qi Fang was healthier than him, likely to live well into his eighties or nineties. He couldn’t let himself fall short of that, could he?
Qi Fang expressionlessly packed up his tools, then glanced at Zhang Dawei. "How’s the new Jicai-50 tractor working out?"
Before the flood, Jinchuan Forestry had only two tractor drivers—Liang Qimao and Zhang Dawei. Since Zhang Dawei was in the same work team as Qi Fang, he answered frankly. "Better than the old TY-12. With all the mud and landslides after the flood, Liang and I had to compact the roads. It’s got power, and it’s not too thirsty on fuel."
Qi Fang didn’t press further. Only after Zhang Dawei left did Yan Xue lower her voice and ask, "What? Something wrong with that tractor?"
Qi Fang handed her the thirty cents and didn’t hide the truth. "It uses an old technology my teacher researched, but it wasn’t fully developed."
"Not quite mature yet?" Yan Xue felt that since the core technology was in Qi Fang's hands, it probably wasn't just a matter of immaturity. "How could they dare to roll it out without proper testing beforehand?"
Typically, new products undergo a lengthy trial period from development to market release, ranging from two or three years to as long as five, six, or even seven or eight years. Take artificially cultivated black fungus, for example—it was reportedly successfully grown in labs as early as the 1950s, but by the time Yan Xue arrived in this era, it still hadn't been applied practically.
And how many years had it been since Qi Fang's teacher passed away?
Less than three.
Even if they had started research and development amid the chaos back then, applying it directly to logging operations this year seemed far too rushed.
Sure enough, Qi Fang's lips curled into a faint, sardonic smile. "He doesn’t have that kind of time. If they really tested it for five or six years, the opportunity would be long gone."
"What about this winter's logging?" Yan Xue couldn't shake the feeling that Wu Xingde's impatience might lead to disaster.
Qi Fang had already composed himself. "I'll remind Uncle Xu to repair those two TY-12s as well."
With the arrival of four new Jicai-50 logging machines, who cared about the old TY-12s anymore? They had long been abandoned in the back of the equipment shed, gathering dust.
During the recent flood, the Jicai-50s had been moved to higher ground in time, but the two TY-12s, left unattended, were completely submerged.
When Qi Fang suggested repairing the TY-12s, Xu Wenli didn’t say much, but one of his apprentices chuckled. "Why bother fixing those old things? Haven’t you had enough repairs these past few days?"
Though Qi Fang had been temporarily assigned to lighten their workload—and they were happy to take it easy—if he showed off too much, it would come across as overstepping and annoying.
Besides, after all the repairs they’d already done, who wanted to waste effort on two TY-12s that were destined to be obsolete?
The first apprentice had spoken in a joking tone, but the second, genuinely exhausted and irritated, snapped, "If you want to fix them, do it yourself. That way, you can extend your temporary assignment a bit longer."
The implication was clear: Qi Fang didn’t want to return to the mountain nursery and was deliberately creating work to stay.
Qi Fang merely glanced at them, his expression unreadable. "Fine, don’t repair them. I just thought it’d be wise to have a backup in case the new product isn’t stable..."
"You’re overthinking it," the other cut him off. "Other forestry farms have been using them for years without any issues."
But those other farms’ Jicai-50s didn’t have the latest hydrostatic technology...
Once someone was in a bad mood, no reasoning would get through to them. Qi Fang simply lowered his gaze and stopped arguing.
Xu Wenli, noticing his apprentices’ sharp tones, shot them a warning look. "Xiao Qi is just trying to help. If you’re too tired, I’ll handle the repairs myself."
That shut them up. No matter how unwilling they were, they couldn’t just dump all the work on their master.
Whether those two TY-12s were ever repaired, Qi Fang didn’t know. The tumultuous second round of nursery cultivation finally ended, and his temporary assignment concluded. Yan Xue took him back to town to refill his herbal medicine.
The doctor remembered them well. Seeing the handsome young man again, he took his pulse and frowned. "How is your internal heat worse than before?"
Qi Fang said nothing, only turning to silently glance at Yan Xue.
She pretended not to notice. "Maybe it’s stress. Our place got flooded, and our house was underwater."
She refused to admit any responsibility—after all, they’d been married for nearly half a year, and he hadn’t had this issue in the previous months.
The doctor nodded sympathetically. "Your area got hit too? This year’s rains have been brutal—lots of places flooded."
Withdrawing his hand from Qi Fang’s wrist, he said, "I’ll stick with the previous prescription but add some heat-clearing herbs."
Qi Fang finally looked away and asked, "Doctor, do you think I’ll live to eighty or ninety?"
Now it was Yan Xue’s turn to stare at him. He kept his peach-blossom eyes downcast, feigning ignorance.
The doctor was baffled. "This isn’t a serious condition. With proper care, it won’t affect your lifespan."
"Good." Qi Fang nodded, then glanced at Yan Xue again.
She met his gaze unflinchingly—after all, she’d only said that to motivate him to take better care of his health. Smiling sweetly, she asked the doctor, "With the heat-clearing herbs, the medicine will be bitter, right?"
The doctor, scribbling the prescription, didn’t look up. "Of course it’ll be bitter. What, is he afraid of bitter medicine?"
"No." Qi Fang denied it swiftly and firmly, this time avoiding Yan Xue’s eyes altogether.
But as they left with the medicine packets, he stared at them for a long moment, lost in thought.
Yan Jigang was far more direct. Tugging at Yan Xue’s sleeve, he whispered, "W-when do I s-stop h-having to drink... m-medicine?"
"When you stop having nightmares," she replied, ruffling his hair.
Though Yan Jigang had improved, he still woke from nightmares every few nights—which was why she hadn’t rushed to send him back.
Last time, they’d been too busy to linger, but now, with the errand done quickly, they decided to buy a watermelon and visit Shan Qiufang’s house.
On the way, Yan Xue mentioned to Second Old Lady that she’d dropped by twice before but missed Shan Qiufang both times. Yet this time, before they even reached the house, they heard Shan Qiufang’s lively, rapid chatter.
Yan Xue couldn’t help but laugh at the irony.
Shan Qiufang exclaimed when she saw them. "Ah, finally! I’m actually home this time. What rotten luck that I was out the last two times you came!"
Then she hesitated, eyeing Second Old Lady uncertainly. "This is...?"
"My grandmother," Yan Xue introduced, helping the old woman inside. To Second Old Lady, she said, "This is Aunt Qiufang, from my late aunt’s family."
"I remember seeing her a few times as a child," Second Old Lady said warmly. "I can’t believe she’s already in her thirties." Turning to Shan Qiufang, she added, "Thank you for looking out for our Xiaoxue."
Shan Qiufang waved her hands, embarrassed. "Oh, don’t thank me—I messed things up, really."
"Sometimes mistakes turn out for the best," Second Old Lady chuckled. "If not for that mix-up, she wouldn’t have met such a fine young man as Qi Fang."
If Shan Qiufang had previously been cautiously approving of Qi Fang—mainly for his looks and how well he treated Yan Xue—seeing him bring Second Old Lady into their lives now sealed her genuine satisfaction.
As they settled inside, Second Old Lady asked about Qi Fang. "I heard he’s a good lad too. Has your mother introduced him to anyone else?"
"Of course! We owed him that much after the mix-up. But his aunt said he’s in no hurry—either he’s genuinely not looking, or he just doesn’t want me involved anymore."
Yan Xue felt Qi Fang’s gaze settle on her—quiet, weighty—until she subtly nudged him with her foot. He looked away and stood to leave. "I should get going—need to stop by the supply co-op."
After the flood, many families had lost belongings to water damage. If Zhang Dawei had thought to ask Qi Fang for repairs, others surely would too.
These past few days, he had been temporarily assigned to a small repair shop during the day, and at noon or in the evening, people often came to him to fix things. Just from repair fees alone, he had already earned five or six yuan. However, many of the items were missing parts—not just the sewing machine needle for Zhang Dawei’s family. This time, when he came to town, he planned to buy everything he needed in one go.
The only slightly troublesome item was Secretary Lang’s transistor radio—one of its transistors was broken, and the local supply and marketing cooperative might not have it in stock.
Radio parts were notoriously hard to come by. Even back when he was in university, if he wanted to gather a complete set, he’d have to spend several days running around to different places.
Back then, he’d keep a close eye on department stores, joint-operated shops, and material markets. The moment he heard about components for assembling radios being available somewhere, he’d rush over to queue up—if he arrived too late, there was a chance they’d already be sold out.
When he asked at the supply and marketing cooperative, sure enough, they didn’t have the transistor. They had stocked a few earlier, but they were snapped up as soon as they arrived.
However, apart from the transistor, the radio’s speaker, capacitors, and even the magnetic rod were all available—and not just one of each. They had multiple new ones in stock.
Secretary Lang had originally said that if the parts could be bought, the radio could be fixed; otherwise, it could wait. But after looking at the available components and checking his watch, Qi Fang turned and headed toward the long-distance bus station instead.
Qi Fang: "Honey, I think the biggest obstacle to me living into my eighties or nineties is getting too worked up..."
