Zhou Wenhui was, after all, only a year older than Yan Xue, not even twenty years old yet. When Yan Xue asked her a question, she couldn’t help but look a little embarrassed.
However, she had already interacted with Yan Xue alone once before and knew that Yan Xue had a good temperament and was easy to get along with. So, she nodded openly. "There is good news."
"No rush, take your time," Yan Xue said, pouring her a glass of water.
Zhou Wenhui accepted it, first organizing her thoughts and what she needed to say before taking out the money. "Let’s settle the previous account first."
The girl clearly had a very methodical way of doing things. The money was neatly arranged—thirty-eight yuan in total, plus the previous thirty, which covered the cost of twenty pounds of wood ear mushrooms.
When it came to money, Yan Xue always made sure to count it in front of the other person to avoid any discrepancies later. She counted the bills in front of Zhou Wenhui. "It’s indeed thirty-eight. None of the wood ear mushrooms need to be returned, right?"
"No, I’ve already sold all of them," Zhou Wenhui replied, then unexpectedly pulled two sheets of paper from her pocket and handed them to Yan Xue.
Yan Xue looked at them and realized they were detailed records of sales. The first entry read: "Cafeteria, 10, 3.55."
After a moment’s thought, she understood—this meant the cafeteria had purchased ten pounds at 3.55 yuan per pound.
The rest of the entries followed the same format, though Yan Xue wasn’t familiar with all the buyers Zhou Wenhui had sold to. She could only make out the quantities, unit prices, and the clearly calculated total amounts.
This made her glance at the girl again, surprised by how meticulous and organized Zhou Wenhui was.
"I didn’t write down too many details, afraid others might notice," Zhou Wenhui quickly explained, thinking Yan Xue had doubts.
"It’s fine, it’s really good," Yan Xue said, her eyes curving into a smile. "I just didn’t expect you to record everything so carefully and so well."
The praise made Zhou Wenhui blush slightly. "I just have a habit of keeping accounts. After selling, I jot it down right away."
Liu Weiguo could vouch for that. "The first thing she does after washing up at night is to balance her accounts. If she’s off by even a few cents, she won’t sleep until she finds the mistake."
This immediately turned Zhou Wenhui’s face bright red, and she shot him a glare, making him quickly shut his mouth and pretend to be mute.
In this regard, Qi Fang behaved much better—he never spoke when he shouldn’t, except after the lights were turned off at night...
Yan Xue handed the two sheets of paper back to Zhou Wenhui. "We agreed that any extra profit is yours, so you should keep these." Then she asked, "Earlier, you asked how many pounds of wood ear mushrooms I still have?"
This was serious business. Zhou Wenhui took the papers and placed them on her lap. "I only gave the cafeteria ten pounds at first. After receiving the goods, they thought the quality was good and asked if I had more to sell."
It probably wasn’t just because the product was good—this girl had also offered them a very low price.
Yan Xue had already seen that the cafeteria’s price was as low as 3.55 yuan per pound. Even for small, scattered sales, Zhou Wenhui only charged 3.60 yuan, barely making any profit.
It didn’t matter that the procurement staff bought from her at 3.55 yuan—when reporting the expenses, they’d likely mark it up to at least 3.80 yuan per pound. Kickbacks were a common practice in this line of work, even in these times. The only difference was how bold or greedy people were in taking them.
Since the goods had already been handed over to Zhou Wenhui, Yan Xue didn’t say much, only asking, "How much do they want?"
"Forty catties," Zhou Wenhui replied, a number that even surprised Yan Xue.
Adding the previous ten catties, that made fifty catties in total—a sizable amount worth well over a hundred yuan.
It seemed the Forestry Bureau truly lived up to its nickname "Big Spender Lin," with no shortage of funds. They must have reported a generous quantity to secure such a large order at once.
Yan Xue did a quick calculation. "I don’t have that much ready stock on hand. It might take a few more days."
The town’s Forestry Bureau wasn’t in a hurry either. After Zhou Wenhui asked how long it would take, she prepared to leave. "I’ll arrange for my uncle-in-law’s truck to deliver it when it’s ready."
Liu Weiguo walked with her, glancing at her several times along the way but holding back his questions until they got home. "You’ve been going to town so often these days—was it all to sell the wood ear mushrooms?"
"Yan Xue and Qi Fang have helped us a lot. I wanted to do something for them too," Zhou Wenhui said, visibly relieved now that she’d secured such a big deal.
Then, remembering she hadn’t mentioned it to Liu Weiguo earlier, she flushed slightly. "I wasn’t sure if it would work out, so I didn’t bring it up before."
With that explanation, Liu Weiguo couldn’t say much, though he still felt a faint twinge of frustration.
Back when he’d first taken a slight interest in Yan Xue, Qi Fang had swiftly crushed any possibility with his blunt remark, "Yan Xue and I are getting married in a couple of days—we’re short on groceries." There was no competing with Qi Fang.
Now, just a month after their wedding, Zhou Wenhui was already working with Yan Xue on the wood ear mushroom business. Was he going to have to fight Yan Xue for his own wife’s attention too?
Over the next few days, Yan Xue worked tirelessly to harvest and dry the mushrooms, combining them with the remaining stock to finally meet the Forestry Bureau’s forty-catty demand.
The goods were discreetly packed into two baskets and loaded onto the logistics department’s delivery truck. Once the delivery was made, Zhou Wenhui came to settle the payment—136 yuan in total, not a single cent withheld.
With this, Yan Xue’s earnings from wood ear mushrooms this year alone had surpassed two hundred yuan. After deducting initial investments and Guo Chang’an’s wages, she still had nearly a hundred left.
And this was only the first year—she’d started late, missing out on two or three months of harvesting.
The second year of artificial log cultivation would bring peak yields, and even in the third year, as the logs began to decay, the harvest wouldn’t be less than this year’s.
Without hesitation, Yan Xue paid Guo Chang’an his monthly wages, arranged household matters, and then boarded the train with Qi Fang to head to town for poetry recital rehearsals.
Lang Yue’e accompanied them. Since several other forest farms along a different rail line hadn’t arrived yet, rehearsals wouldn’t start until the afternoon. She first led the group to check in at the Forestry Bureau’s guesthouse. "Keep all meal and lodging receipts—the farm will reimburse you when you return."
Of course, they weren’t roomed together. The men and women were split up, sharing rooms with others from different forest farms.
For lunch, the group ate at the Forestry Bureau’s cafeteria, where stir-fried wood ear mushrooms happened to be on the menu that day.
Having eaten plenty at home, Yan Xue and Qi Fang skipped the dish, but many bureau employees bought it, some even taking portions home.
A few visitors from other forest farms noticed and couldn’t help asking, "Is the stir-fried wood ear here really that good?"
"It's not that it's cooked well, it's that the wood ear mushrooms are good," the man said. "These are tender, easy to chew and digest, suitable for both the elderly and children. Unlike the ones we bought ourselves—too tough and rubbery, kids can't even digest them."
Wild wood ear mushrooms are highly nutritious and crisp but have a firmer texture, while bag-cultivated ones are too soft and mushy. In comparison, the log-cultivated ones really do have the best texture.
The forest farm wasn’t short on these, and the group hadn’t originally planned to get any. But hearing the man’s praise and seeing the long queue, they decided to line up and get a portion.
After getting theirs, they sat right behind Yan Xue and Qi Fang. The first bite was to taste these unusually tender mushrooms. "They really are softer than the ones we picked ourselves. Where did they get these?"
Both Yan Xue and Qi Fang overheard, but Yan Xue’s smile remained unchanged, and Qi Fang was as indifferent as ever. Even Lang Yue'e, sitting at the same table, didn’t realize these mushrooms were from their family’s stall.
Lang Yue'e knew someone in the area and was pulled aside for a chat after the meal. She arranged to meet the couple at the guesthouse at one o’clock to take them to rehearsals.
Going back meant sharing a room with strangers, and neither of them was in the habit of taking afternoon naps, so they decided not to return. Instead, they took a stroll nearby to walk off their meal.
Chengshui’s terrain wasn’t entirely flat. The forestry bureau, the canteen, and the bureau’s guesthouse were all situated on a long slope. Standing at the top, they could see the neighborhood where Shan Qiufang and Zhou Wenhui’s families lived.
Built right beside the slope was the town’s forestry bureau middle school, which covered quite a large area—two long rows of single-story buildings housing both junior and senior high students.
Yan Xue glanced at the roadside. "I wonder where Chun Cai and the others are staying, and if it’s far from the school."
"Once Jigang arrives, we can probably arrange for him to room with Wei Bin," Qi Fang immediately guessed that Yan Xue was worried about Yan Jigang.
This made Yan Xue turn and smile at him. "You still haven’t told me whether you skipped grades in school too."
Mainly because she hadn’t asked again, but it didn’t matter now. Yan Xue’s eyes curved with amusement. "Are you going to tell me now, or wait until tonight?"
How would he tell her at night? Was he planning to imitate Old Man Wang and find a way to sneak in?
Qi Fang lowered his gaze, studying the mischief in her smiling eyes for a moment. "I also skipped a grade in elementary school—at seven."
Yan Xue wasn’t surprised. "Seven in nominal age or actual age?"
"Nominal."
That was really young. Most children started school at nine in nominal age, with some even at ten or eleven.
"Did the school let you?" Yan Xue was curious.
Of course, they hadn’t at first. But by then, he had already been self-studying for over a year, and his maternal grandfather felt it would be a waste not to let him attend.
"The school said I was too young and worried I wouldn’t keep up. My grandfather insisted I’d already finished the first-grade curriculum and told them to test me if they didn’t believe it."
"And when they tested you, you knew everything, so they let you start in second grade?"
"Mm."
This was somewhat similar to Yan Jigang’s situation, though their reasons for taking the test were different.
Still, starting second grade at seven in nominal age was considered early even in Yan Xue’s past life, and Qi Fang’s birthday wasn’t even among the earliest in the year. "Did your grandfather teach you to read and write very early?"
"Not really," Qi Fang said. "Once, while he was playing chess, he noticed I could recognize all the characters on the pieces. That’s when he started teaching me."
Naturally, it was that sharp memory of his from childhood. Yan Xue had grown used to envying it, though she couldn’t help feeling a pang of regret for him again.
Qi Fang had just turned twenty-one and still carried a hint of youthful charm. Dressed in a Zhongshan suit that day, he would have looked every bit the progressive intellectual if paired with a student cap.
Yet instead of shining in a research institute or pursuing further studies on campus, he was here in the mountains, doing manual labor that didn’t even require literacy.
Yan Xue’s gaze softened involuntarily. "Hang in there a little longer. This hardship will pass."
She rarely spoke like this about those ten years, afraid of giving others ammunition or having her words dismissed as empty comfort.
Qi Fang lowered his eyes to look at her, but all he saw was sincerity, conviction, and the bright, unwavering light that always seemed to glow in her gaze.
Without thinking, he murmured an "Mm," then after a pause, asked quietly, "You seem to care a lot about education."
In an era when most people dismissed schooling as unimportant, she actively sent her younger brother to school, taught him to read and write at home, and had even expressed regret when mistaking Qi Fang for Qi Fang, thinking it a shame he hadn’t attended university.
Yan Xue could have easily repeated the same reasoning she’d given Liu Chunhua—that education would surely prove useful, that the country would one day need talent again and might revive its emphasis on learning.
But after a moment of silence, her long lashes lowered. "I only finished middle school."
In this life, and the last.
In this life, her mother had died young, and with Yan Jigang still small, she’d had to drop out after junior high like so many other village girls to take care of the household. And in her past life…
In her past life, she’d been an excellent student. Even while helping her father at the market and managing the house, she could have at least made it into a decent university.
But in her second year of high school, her father fell ill. She could have relied on school hardship allowances to keep studying, but there was no one to cover his medical bills.
Though things improved later, and she eventually found time to pursue adult education, the regret remained—an irreparable loss.
That was why she wanted Liu Chunhua and the others to cherish their chance to study, why she urged Yan Jigang to take school seriously and seize the opportunity when the college entrance exams were reinstated…
Yan Xue wasn’t one to dwell on regrets. In the next instant, she lifted her gaze with a bright smile. "I suppose when you don’t have something yourself, you envy those who do. But once you have it, it’s different—look at Wei Bin, always complaining to Aunt Liu about headaches, stomachaches, you name it, just to skip school."
Her tone was sunny, radiant, as if no shadow had ever touched her. Yet Qi Fang still caught the fleeting hint of sorrow hidden in her eyes.
So faint, so light—it would vanish under the sun without a trace, yet it pricked at his heart all the same.
Without thinking, he softened his voice. "It’s alright. I’ll teach you."
But his tone was too gentle, his gaze too intent, making Yan Xue blink. "What kind of teaching? Like the female general and her sword-bearing guard?"
A perfectly serious topic had suddenly veered into mischief—whether she’d genuinely misunderstood or simply wanted to change the subject, he couldn’t tell.
And if she’d only finished middle school, how did she know so much? She didn’t seem uneducated at all…
Qi Fang’s peach-blossom eyes held hers for two long seconds. "That works too."
But Yan Xue wasn’t having it. "I can’t even look at the two dogs at home the same way anymore. Spare the students and teachers, please."
As they spoke, the two had already reached the bottom of the long slope. Yan Xue glanced at her watch and asked, "Should we keep going or head back?"
Just as Qi Fang was about to answer, a series of bicycle bell rings suddenly sounded from behind them on the slope. "Move! Get out of the way!"
They quickly stepped aside, turning to look, with Qi Fang even pulling Yan Xue behind him protectively.
A bicycle came rushing down the slope, its bell ringing incessantly. The rider showed no signs of braking, swerving at the last moment to narrowly avoid hitting them.
But the cyclist clearly had lost control—though he missed them, he clipped another bicycle parked by the roadside.
Both bikes crashed to the ground with a loud clatter, their contents scattering everywhere. The rider took a hard fall, his glasses flying off.
The Man with Glasses, evidently severely nearsighted, ignored his own scrapes and bruises, immediately scrambling to find his spectacles.
Since he had at least warned them and tried to avoid a collision, Yan Xue moved to help, but Qi Fang was quicker, picking up the glasses and handing them over.
The man thanked him, putting on the now cracked frames before dusting himself off and turning to inspect the other bike he’d knocked over.
As he reached to right it, a Dark-faced Man in his forties or fifties burst out from a nearby yard. "How the hell are you riding that thing? My bike’s parked right here—can’t you see?"
The Man with Glasses hurriedly apologized, "I’m really sorry. My brakes failed, and I couldn’t stop. Is your bike okay?"
He moved to help, but the Dark-faced Man shoved him aside. "That bike of yours looks brand new. You expect me to believe the brakes just failed?"
After straightening his own bicycle, the Dark-faced Man began gathering scattered ginseng roots from the ground. "You’d better make this right. This ginseng was freshly harvested, and now it’s ruined—some even broken."
Holding up one damaged root, he pointed at a large gash. "Look at this! How am I supposed to sell it now?"
The Man with Glasses frowned at the aggressive tone but admitted fault. "If any are damaged, I’ll take responsibility for them."
The Dark-faced Man eyed him skeptically before nodding. "Fine." He started sorting through the roots. "This one, this one, and this one—all ruined."
He even included roots with barely a scratch. "These are all freshly dug from the mountains. The collection station pays over two hundred per root. You’ve wrecked four."
The blatant extortion darkened the Man with Glasses’ expression. "These aren’t wild ginseng, are they?"
"What do you mean, not wild?" the Dark-faced Man snapped. "You’re the one who crashed into my bike, and now you’re accusing me? These are five-leaf premium roots! Are you trying to weasel out of paying?"
His shouting drew another man from the yard. "What’s going on?"
The Dark-faced Man immediately pointed at the Man with Glasses. "I was inside for two minutes, and this guy plowed into my bike, wrecking the ginseng in my bag. Now he’s refusing to compensate!"
The onlooker quickly tried to mediate, "It's not completely ruined, is it? Just have him pay a little as a gesture. Who carries that much money around anyway?"
"If he doesn’t have cash, there’s always his watch," the dark-faced man said, pointing at the man with glasses' wrist. "A Roman watch—barely enough to cover half the damage."
No wonder he’d been so persistent. He’d spotted the watch all along...
The man with glasses had lost his apologetic expression and was about to retort when someone tugged his sleeve. "Brother, don’t listen to him. That ginseng is cultivated."
A petite girl stepped in front of him. "I’ve worked in ginseng fields for years, but today’s the first time I’ve seen someone try to pass off cultivated ginseng as wild to scam my brother!"
She pointed at the ginseng in the man’s hand. "I won’t even bother mentioning how wild ginseng has longer roots while cultivated ones are shorter. But dare you show my brother the bud scars so he can count the years?"
No one expected this sudden intervention—a girl calling him "brother" out of nowhere, with a tall young man standing beside her.
Now, the numbers were no longer in their favor. The dark-faced man glanced between the girl and the man with glasses, suspicion flickering in his eyes.
Yan Xue ignored him, turning instead to the man behind her. "We’ve been waiting for you to eat. Kept waiting and waiting, and turns out you were stuck with this nonsense."
The man with glasses reacted swiftly, rubbing his nose. "I couldn’t get away. My brakes failed going downhill, and I hit their car."
"And you just let them scam you?" Yan Xue huffed. "Next time, Brother, count the bud scars. Cultivated ginseng has short scars—six years to grow six leaves, with at most six rings. And five leaves? Wild five-leaf ginseng would be eighty or ninety years old, with much longer scars."
Her expertise was undeniable—she knew the difference between wild and cultivated ginseng, even the age of wild five-leaf varieties. The two men fell silent.
Yan Xue glanced back. "Brother, just give them five yuan. Take it or leave it. I doubt they’d chase us home for money if we walked away now."
She moved to pick up the bicycle, but the man with glasses quickly handed over five yuan and did it himself. "Alright, don’t be mad. They didn’t actually scam me, after all."
The two men didn’t pursue them as they walked away. Once they were at a safe distance, the man slowed his pace and thanked them. "Thank you for earlier."
"No problem, just a small favor," Yan Xue said, partly because he’d tried to avoid trouble from the start.
She eyed his bleeding palm and the badly dented bicycle. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah, just need some ointment later." He thanked them repeatedly before they parted ways at the next intersection.
Before leaving, the man warned Yan Xue and Qi Fang, "Take a detour, just in case those two are still lurking."
Yan Xue nodded, and Qi Fang, who’d been quiet, finally spoke up. "Your brakes were tampered with."
While helping pick up the glasses, he’d noticed clean cut marks on the brake line.
The man stiffened, but he didn’t seem entirely surprised. With a grim nod, he thanked them once more before pushing his bike away.
This time, the two of them didn’t take the usual route, making a slight detour before returning to the guesthouse. They arrived with just three minutes to spare before one o’clock.
Lang Yue’e was already there, knocking on the door. When she saw them, she lowered her hand and said, “You two went out? No wonder no one answered when I knocked.”
That shouldn’t have been the case. Yan Xue glanced at the door of her room—it wasn’t locked, so someone should have been inside.
But perhaps her roommate had stepped out temporarily. Yan Xue didn’t comment and simply said, “We’re back a bit late.”
“No worries, I came early.” Lang Yue’e, who had checked her watch, smiled and led them toward the Forestry Bureau.
The poetry recital had been arranged by Section Chief Miao, a former cultural activist who had often helped organize performances for the bureau.
The idea of having several forest farms collaborate on a program to showcase the happy lives and spirited outlook of the forest region’s people under the leadership of the Party and the nation had also been Section Chief Miao’s suggestion.
Before they even reached his office, they overheard voices inside.
“Borrow the Grand Theater? You’ll have to wait for Section Chief Miao. I’m not familiar enough with them to arrange that.”
“Then put in a word for me. We don’t need it for long—just for a rehearsal. It’s convenient since we’re nearby, isn’t it?”
Clearly, Section Chief Miao hadn’t arrived yet. Yan Xue looked at Lang Yue’e, wondering if they should wait outside.
But when she glanced up, she noticed Qi Fang’s peach-blossom eyes had darkened.
Qi Fang: Teacher Qi, I wouldn’t mind a female student either.
