It really wouldn’t wash off. Chen Jizhong had tried soap, alcohol, even gasoline used for removing paint—yet the dye on his face remained stubbornly visible.
The worst part was the color: blue. If it had been black, he could’ve claimed it was premature graying and a botched hair-dyeing attempt.
As his face grew red and swollen, nearly scrubbed raw, his wife couldn’t hold back any longer. "What on earth did you do last night?"
Chen Jizhong immediately glanced at the door. "Keep your voice down!" He was terrified the person in the opposite room might hear.
After all, they lived in state-assigned housing, and the neighbor across the hall wasn’t family—just a worker from the food factory.
Even if it had been family, he couldn’t explain. How could he admit he’d tried to sabotage Qi Fang, only to end up outsmarted by him instead?
And what on earth had Qi Fang used? Why wouldn’t it come off no matter how hard he scrubbed?
Chen Jizhong picked up the mirror again. His face wasn’t just a vivid blue—it even seemed to have a greenish tint.
The bigger problem was the time: past six in the morning, and he was due at work soon.
He had no choice but to ask his wife, "Go and ask for leave on my behalf. Say my mother’s sick and I went to see her."
With his face like this, there was no way he could show up. His wife nodded. "I’ll go right away."
"Hurry. Before the logging train arrives, get it done and leave quickly."
Chen Jizhong’s expression darkened as he added the instruction. Though confused, his wife didn’t have time to question him—her brisk walk turned into a jog.
But when she rushed to the machinery repair factory, she couldn’t find anyone to approve the leave. Everyone, she was told, had gathered in one of the workshops.
She hurried over and found the factory director and other leaders huddled around a machine, their faces grim.
A strikingly handsome young man, wearing gloves, was removing a part from the equipment. "This is it."
He handed it over—both the gloves and the part were stained with that same familiar blue.
The moment Chen Jizhong’s wife saw it, her heart skipped a beat.
Sure enough, the men examining it grew even more serious. "Someone really dared to sabotage our equipment? They’ve got no respect for this factory!"
The factory director was the one who spoke—after all, Qi Fang and his work had been entrusted to him by higher authorities.
Qi Fang, however, remained calm. "It’s fine. I coated this with dye. Just check who has a blue face or who suddenly took leave today."
Chen Jizhong’s wife’s stomach dropped. Her husband had been set up—and the other side had even anticipated he’d skip work.
Before she could think of a way out, Qi Fang’s gaze cut through the crowd and landed on her. "There’s a female comrade over there. Perhaps she has business here."
His voice was cool and detached, but his eyes bore into her as if seeing straight through her.
His remark drew the others’ attention. The factory director turned to her. "Do you need something?"
Whoever was behind this, it had to be someone from the factory—an outsider wouldn’t know which part to tamper with.
And internal matters had to stay internal. Even if they eventually had to report it to the bureau, they couldn’t let an outsider spread rumors.
Now the dilemma: Should Chen Jizhong’s wife proceed with the leave request, exposing him? Or should she drop it, forcing him to skip work without permission?
But even if she didn’t ask, his absence would still point fingers at him…
Though it wasn’t even May yet, her palms were sweating. She stood frozen, unable to utter a word.
The factory director frowned, sensing something amiss. "Comrade, what brings you here?"
Someone who recognized her spoke up. "That’s Chen Jizhong’s wife."
The director’s gaze sharpened, suspicion creeping in. "Is something wrong with Chen Jizhong?"
Under the weight of so many stares, she had no choice but to stick to the script. "My mother-in-law is sick. Jizhong went to see her, so he can’t come to work today."
The excuse didn’t surprise anyone—in fact, someone muttered, "How convenient."
The handsome young man pressed further. "Where does your mother-in-law live?"
The question came fast and sharp, catching her off guard. "Wushui Gully."
"And when did you find out she was sick? How?"
She faltered. Wushui Gully wasn’t close to Chengshui, and news didn’t travel quickly.
Her hesitation spoke volumes. Qi Fang didn’t push further, but the factory director gave her a long look. "Mind if we visit your home?"
Before she could refuse, he added, "There aren’t any buses to Wushui Gully this early anyway. We’d like to pay our respects."
Trapped, she had no choice but to lead them back. Even if she refused, others knew where they lived.
She could only hope Chen Jizhong had been smart enough to hide—but the moment she pushed open the door—
"Did you get the leave? Why is this stupid powder not covering anything?"
Chen Jizhong turned from the desk, his irritated face swollen, blue, and caked in thick powder…
"God, you should’ve seen it. Scared me half to death—he looked like a monster," someone later recounted to their coworkers.
"Really? Was it that hard to wash off?"
"I asked Technician Qi. Some chloride solution can remove most of it, but otherwise, it takes a month to fade naturally."
"A whole month? How’s Chen Jizhong supposed to show his face?"
"Even if he could wash it off, he’s done for. Sabotaging the bureau’s work? He’ll definitely face disciplinary action."
This was a project assigned by the bureau—one they were counting on for road repairs.
No wonder the factory director showed no mercy, dragging Chen Jizhong in for criticism and political re-education while his face was still blue.
The punishment came faster than anyone expected. For maliciously obstructing bureau projects and damaging property, Chen Jizhong was sent to a logging camp for ideological reform.
"His actions reflect a severe lack of ideological correctness. This must be taken seriously, and all comrades should learn from this—do not hold back socialist progress!"
Even after he was gone, the factory held a special meeting to condemn him, proving just how furious higher-ups were.
The irony? He’d once schemed to push Qi Fang down to the logging camps. Now, the tables had turned—because of Qi Fang, he was the one being sent away.
Meanwhile, Qi Fang had climbed back up through sheer skill. Though still assigned to the smaller repair workshop, no one in the main factory dared disrespect him now.
And given how highly the bureau regarded him, once this modification succeeded, returning to the main factory would be effortless—if he even wanted to.
Upon reflection, this young mechanic Qi Fang didn’t seem like someone to be trifled with—after all, Chen Jizhong had just fallen into his trap...
Initially, some of the older workers had slacked off, relying on their seniority and underestimating Qi Fang’s youth. But now, they had all straightened up. After the disciplinary action was finalized, Qi Fang finally handed over the two retrofitted machines to the bureau.
“He’s already submitted them?” Director Liu sounded skeptical. “How can they possibly be ready in such a short time? Will they even work?”
It was always the same with him—first complaining about the slow progress, now doubting the speed of delivery. Qu Mingli couldn’t even be bothered to respond.
Qu Mingli took a team to the repair factory for inspection. The moment they entered, they saw the two machines, completely transformed.
Having seen excavators and bulldozers before, Qu Mingli could tell at a glance that the overall structure was sound. “Should we call in an expert to test-drive them?”
“No need. I can do it.”
Qi Fang climbed onto the machine, then turned back to ask, “Does anyone want to come inside and see how it operates?”
Director Liu didn’t dare, but Qu Mingli trusted Qi Fang enough. “I’ll go.”
Inside the cabin, Qi Fang demonstrated the basic functions—forward movement, turning, gear shifting—all of which were already present in the original tractors. After a quick run-through, he moved on to the new modifications.
The excavator’s arm extended smoothly, positioning itself precisely over the marked operating area before the bucket dug into the ground.
The flexibility of the arm and bucket, the precision of the controls, and the digging force were all flawless. Soon, the bucket lifted, carrying a load of soil, and dumped it outside the designated zone.
Qi Fang continued digging until he’d created a pit nearly three meters deep. Then, he and Qu Mingli switched to the bulldozer, pushing the soil back in and leveling the surface.
“The excavator requires higher intensity and precision, so I used the TDT-40 from the town—most of the retrofit costs went into that. The bulldozer only needed an RT-12.”
As Qi Fang explained this to Qu Mingli, the others fell into stunned silence, especially Director Liu.
The modifications were extensive, particularly for the excavator. Rumor had it that the county’s only successful retrofit so far had been a bulldozer.
This made everyone reevaluate Qi Fang. They began to think that his assignment to Jinchuan Forestry Station—no, even to their humble Chengshui Town—was a waste of his talent.
But considering the unusual circumstances of recent years, it wasn’t entirely inexplicable. Suppressing their thoughts, the group prepared to return for a meeting.
After all, the machines still needed a trial period to identify any further improvements. The bureau also had to decide whether to retrofit the remaining tractors.
Ultimately, cost considerations led them to postpone further modifications. However, the road repairs could finally begin.
After lengthy discussions over a map, they decided to start by building a road connecting Jinchuan Forestry Station to Wangshan Forestry Station, which lay along another small railway line.
These two stations were situated midway along the railway, both distant from the town but separated only by a stretch of forest and two hills. Once connected, a horse-drawn cart could make the trip in under half an hour, effectively linking the two rail lines.
Director Liu remained quiet throughout the meeting. Back in his office, he stewed in frustration, feeling that ever since Qu Mingli’s arrival, nothing had gone his way.
Still, he consoled himself—Qu Mingli was reckless, and the mess he’d created at Jinchuan Forestry Station would eventually backfire.
Feeling slightly better, Director Liu made a few calls to gauge the scale of the pilot project at Jinchuan.
Upon learning that they’d requisitioned lumber from three stations and purchased multiple carts of bricks and cement from town, he estimated that the investment must be substantial.
This reassured him. He’d wait until year-end financial reports to watch Qu Mingli’s downfall—and maybe even fan the flames.
Regardless, once afforestation was completed, the two machines were transported to Jinchuan Forestry Station to begin road construction.
At first, the workers assumed the bureau had bought new machines specifically for their station, which filled them with pride.
Later, they discovered the truth—these weren’t new purchases but retrofits by Qi Fang, using an RT-12 from their station and a TDT-40 from another.
That made them even prouder. Who else but their very own Qi Fang could turn tractors into excavators and bulldozers? Who else?
The revelation only heightened their curiosity. They crowded around, searching for traces of the original tractors.
One pointed out how little the main body had changed, another marveled at the seamless modification where the trailer once attached. Some even stopped by the pilot site on their way to wash clothes at the river, praising Qi Fang to Yan Xue.
Since her shift was ending, Yan Xue decided to take a detour with Zhou Wenhui to see the machines.
It was early May, and Zhou Wenhui’s due date was imminent. Huang Fengying had advised her to stay active for an easier delivery.
Along the way, workers from the pilot project greeted them warmly, addressing them as “Technician Yan” and “Accountant Zhou” before inevitably bringing up Technician Yan’s husband, Qi Fang.
Zhou Wenhui found this shift striking. “I remember they used to call you ‘Little Yan’ or ‘Qi Fang’s wife.’”
“That’s why people need meaningful work,” Yan Xue replied with a smile. “Otherwise, they only see your roles, not your name.”
Noticing Zhou Wenhui’s thoughtful expression, she teased, “Once our pilot project expands, people might start referring to Weiguo as ‘Accountant Zhou’s husband.’”
Zhou Wenhui laughed. “Then I’d better work hard—if not for myself, then for my child.”
Liu Weiguo and his family were kind, but she would never forget how her mother, without a formal job, had hesitated even to take an extra bite of food under her father’s disapproving gaze.
Nor would she forget her mother’s helpless tears when her father tried to trade her for his own advancement...
Whether it was her time or the excitement of seeing the machines that stirred the baby, Zhou Wenhui went into labor the moment they returned home.
Huang Fengying fetched the midwife overnight, and by the next morning, Liu Weiguo arrived with red eggs to announce the birth.
Noticing his subdued expression, Yan Xue teased, “What’s wrong? Not happy it’s a girl?”
“It’s not that,” Liu Weiguo scratched his head. “But everyone always talks about wanting a son, you know?”
Human minds are shaped by their surroundings. In an era where men dominated the workforce—and even in Yan Xue’s previous life, in the relatively egalitarian Northeast—having a son first was still seen as a point of pride.
At that time, a large number of people were only children, and girls were raised the same way as boys—receiving the same education, having jobs, and supporting their parents in old age.
Though he felt a little disappointed, Liu Weiguo was still thrilled to become a father. He pulled Qi Fang aside to share his newfound parenting wisdom.
Zhou Wenhui, however, had a stronger reaction to the news. When Yan Xue visited her, she immediately asked when she could return to work at the pilot site.
The young woman, just having become a mother, still showed signs of postpartum fatigue on her face, but her gaze was firm—completely different from the hesitation she had when first deciding to take on the accounting role.
This made Yan Xue smile as she glanced at Liu Weiguo, who was struggling with diapers nearby. "You can come back to work after your forty-day maternity leave. Then Weiguo can stay home with the baby."
No sooner had she spoken than Liu Weiguo somehow managed to upset the infant, who burst into tears. Panicked, he froze, unsure what to do, and looked helplessly at Zhou Wenhui.
Just as Zhou Wenhui reached out, Huang Fengying walked in, scooped up her granddaughter, and cooed, "Oh, don’t cry, don’t cry. Grandma’s here." Then she shot her son a glare. "Can’t even change a diaper properly. What’s the use of you?" Liu Weiguo shrank under her scolding.
After leaving the Liu household, Yan Xue couldn’t help but reflect on how much Zhou Wenhui had changed.
Qi Fang walked beside her, noticing her pensive expression, and suddenly remarked, "Weiguo doesn’t dislike the child."
Before Yan Xue could fully process his words, he added, "He even said it’s a good thing they had a girl—otherwise, he’d have named the baby Bulldozer or Excavator."
That sounded exactly like something Liu Weiguo would say. Yan Xue laughed. "Even if it were a boy, you can’t name a child Bulldozer or Excavator."
"Wasn’t the baby conceived after watching bulldozers and excavators?" Qi Fang deadpanned, delivering the dry joke with a straight face.
"Well, that still doesn’t justify those names. If I ever have a son, should I name him Hydraulic Pump?"
"And if it’s a daughter, call her Wood—"
Before Qi Fang could finish, Yan Xue clapped a hand over his mouth. "Don’t you dare give my future daughter a ridiculous name!"
What kind of decent name was Wood Ear? It sounded awful.
"And no naming sons like that either. Can’t you science majors come up with something nicer?"
Qi Fang didn’t resist or pull away, just gazed at her with those peach-blossom eyes, his lips still pressed under her palm.
Yan Xue released him. "Don’t worry, I know Weiguo doesn’t dislike the baby, and I’m not worried about that for myself either."
After all, Qi Fang had remained single in the original story—why would he care if she had a son or daughter? "I was just thinking about how much Wenhui has changed."
Qi Fang had no comment on that. Zhou Wenhui’s transformation, significant or not, was Liu Weiguo’s concern, not his.
But Yan Xue’s thoughts lingered on him—because this man had changed even more than Zhou Wenhui.
When she first arrived, he had been aloof, indifferent to everything, exuding an air of world-weariness that made her suspect he had psychological issues.
Even last year, he’d suffered from insomnia, sitting outside at night counting stars.
Concerned for his well-being, Yan Xue asked, "You haven’t been having trouble sleeping lately, have you?"
If she hadn’t mentioned it, Qi Fang might have forgotten entirely. "No." After a pause, he added, "Don’t need medication."
At least his aversion to medicine hadn’t changed. Yan Xue smiled. "Good. I’d better not catch you counting stars in the middle of the night again."
Qi Fang’s memory was sharp. He immediately recalled why he’d been counting stars that night. "Didn’t you say I’d live to ninety-nine?"
Not wanting Yan Xue to dwell on a certain someone, he changed the subject. "That wheelchair you mentioned last time is almost done."
Yan Xue wasn’t an expert, but Qi Fang was. After he returned from town, she had explained the design and functionality she envisioned.
To her surprise, he worked quickly. When she went to check, only the front wheels and brakes remained unfinished.
"It’s similar to a bicycle’s structure. I modified two bicycle wheels for it," Qi Fang said, testing the wheelchair’s frame.
Once completed, they brought it to Xu Wanchang, who was so stunned he could barely speak. "F-for me?"
"Not for free—it’ll be deducted from your wages," Yan Xue reassured him with a smile.
But Xu Wanchang remained silent for a long moment before rasping, "Thank you."
Pretending not to notice the emotion in his voice, Yan Xue had Qi Fang help him into the wheelchair and demonstrated how to use it. "Turn both wheels forward to move ahead, backward to reverse. To turn, rotate the left wheel backward and the right wheel forward for a left turn, and vice versa for right."
Having spent the past months dragging himself across the ground with his arms, Xu Wanchang had developed considerable upper-body strength. He adapted quickly, finding the wheelchair incredibly convenient.
When he looked at Yan Xue again, his expression was even more complex—but words failed him, leaving only another quiet "Thank you."
Yan Xue didn’t need flowery gratitude; sincerity was enough. Just then, Yan Jigang came running from the incubation room. "T-the chicks are hatching!"
After the fungal inoculation was complete, the incubation room had been repurposed. The elderly woman—after days of research to determine the ideal temperature—had moved in the fertilized eggs.
Traditionally, she had relied on manual incubation, gauging warmth by touch alone, never knowing the exact temperature.
Following Yan Jigang inside, Yan Xue saw a tiny yellow beak peeking through a cracked shell, the damp little creature still struggling to break free.
The other eggs also showed signs of hatching. The elderly woman watched them like a doting mother. "The incubation room’s temperature is perfect. They can stay here another month before being released."
Newly hatched chicks needed a warm environment for at least a month before they could roam freely, or they’d easily fall ill.
"Then let them stay another month," Yan Xue agreed, pleased to see the woman so revitalized by her work. "With this setup, we might even see fewer deaths than usual."
By the time Zhou Wenhui returned from maternity leave, the chicks were ready to be released—and, as Yan Xue had predicted, the mortality rate was lower than in previous years.
The elderly woman had fenced off a large area in the backyard for them and even started a small vegetable patch, keeping herself busy and fulfilled.
But the household was bustling with activity. By mid-June, the wood ear mushrooms began fruiting. Yan Xue was occupied with the pilot site, leaving the harvesting to Qi Fang, Yan Jigang, the elderly woman, and the Guo family, who often dropped by to help.
When the first batch of mature wood ears was harvested, Secretary Lang came to inspect them. Satisfied, he called Qu Mingli. "They’re ready… Yes, the growth is excellent."
Qu Mingli, who had been closely monitoring the project, wasted no time. After wrapping up his tasks, he prepared to visit the forest farm personally.
A leader’s worst mistake was theorizing without firsthand experience. Only by seeing and understanding could proper evaluations and plans be made.
But just as he stepped out, he ran into Director Liu, who had left his office to escape the heat.
Qi Fang: Whoever delays me from going home next, I’ll make sure they regret it.
