Chapter 22:

Yu Xiangyan discussed with others and exchanged the already-made adobe bricks from other households. Those who weren’t in a hurry to build houses were willing to lend him their bricks for a little convenience, knowing he’d return them later without causing delays—unlike the young man who was getting married and couldn’t wait.

Soon, with enough help, two and a half new rooms were built.

Wen Yizhen knew one of the rooms was for him, but he refused to move in.

He was a burden.

He didn’t want to drag his sister down.

His sister was already twenty-two and had finally relented on some things. He couldn’t keep relying on her care.

But his future brother-in-law eventually convinced him.

He wasn’t afraid of housework, and when his sister had a child, he could help take care of the baby.

Besides, he would work even harder.

The wedding date was set close—Yu Xiangyan couldn’t wait. He deliberately chose the earliest possible day.

Every day after returning from the fields, he would find ways to decorate the house.

The walls were covered with old newspapers, and the furniture was made by villagers—simple in design but fully functional. Necessary household items like bowls, chopsticks, oil, and salt were gradually added. If he saw any pretty flowers or plants on the roadside, he’d dig them up and plant them in the yard.

Little by little, their small home was becoming better.

Qu Lingshan watched him and clicked his tongue twice. “Don’t you think this yard is missing something?”

Yu Xiangyan humbly asked, “What’s missing?”

“Don’t you think it needs a fruit tree? Imagine, when it bears fruit, you can just reach up and pick some. Even if it doesn’t, it’ll provide shade in the summer.”

Yu Xiangyan thought it made sense. “I’ll ask her what kind of fruit tree she wants to plant. The sooner we plant it, the sooner it’ll bear fruit.”

With that, he walked off.

Qu Lingshan: “…”

Why did he suddenly feel choked up again?

Before long, the wedding day arrived. Yu Xiangyan had prepared everything in advance. As the groom, he left the kitchen work to the helpers and invited the educated youths from the commune, the brigade leader, the secretary, and a few close villagers.

Two tables were filled.

The dishes were plentiful—chicken and fish included—and everyone praised the feast.

Then, standing before the portrait of Chairman Mao, they declared their commitment to progress together and officially became a family.

Normally, for such a big occasion, the elders from both families should have been present. But the groom’s side couldn’t get leave, and the bride’s family situation wasn’t widely known—her father was still undergoing re-education.

Most of the other educated youths were in similar situations, making long-distance travel unrealistic.

But Yu Qingshan wanted to go.

His son was getting married—he wanted to drink the bride’s tea. But he couldn’t leave the factory for that long.

So he had to give up.

However, while he couldn’t go, Yu Xianghai could.

Unlike Yu Qingshan, who was a master craftsman, Yu Xianghai wasn’t as indispensable. After coordinating with others, he managed to get three days off.

If he couldn’t make it for the wedding, he’d visit later.

As for safety—Yu Xianghai was tall and strong, and the journey wasn’t too far. What could go wrong?

Yu Xiang’an was itching to go too. Maybe there’d be other opportunities along the way.

But Yu Qingshan refused. She hadn’t been working long—she should stay put. Besides, round-trip tickets weren’t cheap.

A whole month’s wages would be gone. Wouldn’t it be better to spend that money on food?

One representative was enough.

…

Yao Cuifen walked out of the supply and marketing cooperative cheerfully, carrying some scrap fabric she’d bought from Ye Qijia.

The scraps couldn’t be used for clothes, but they were perfect for making shoes. She planned to make a pair for her granddaughter.

A few days ago, her granddaughter had brought homemade pickled beans—delicious. Her cooking skills were improving, but she still had weaknesses.

She couldn’t sew clothes or make shoes.

She wore factory uniforms now, but before, her sister-in-law had made her clothes. Her own sewing skills were barely passable—just enough for simple mending.

Seeing her granddaughter’s worn-out shoes, Yao Cuifen decided to make her a new pair.

But after only a few steps, she ran into Yang Xizhi.

Yang Xizhi spotted her, held her breath, turned her head, and sped past.

As she walked by, Yao Cuifen snorted. Yang Xizhi quickened her pace even more.

She had to pretend she hadn’t heard.

Forced into retirement, she could only stay quietly at home, unable to do anything.

Her position had been taken by Director Chen’s relative, and she couldn’t say a word. When her uninformed old friends asked why she hadn’t given the job to her granddaughter-in-law, she could only say she pitied the girl’s weak health and wanted her to rest before taking over her mother-in-law’s job later.

The words sounded nice, but every time she thought about it, her heart bled. If her grandson hadn’t been so useless, she wouldn’t have had to give up the position like this.

Originally, if Yu Xiang’an had taken her job, Yang Xizhi could have made things difficult for her—she had friends in the workplace. But Yu Xiang’an had connections and became an accountant instead.

Now, if Yang Xizhi tried to cause trouble, her old colleagues might not even cooperate. After all, accountants controlled the money—what if Yu Xiang’an made things difficult during payday?

So Yang Xizhi kept quiet. She had to.

Ding Minxiu was pregnant. If this blew up, it’d be a disaster. And no matter how much she disliked Ding Minxiu—blaming her for corrupting her precious grandson—she had to save face for the sake of the unborn child.

After walking a distance, Yang Xizhi turned back and sighed as she watched Yao Cuifen’s retreating figure.

If only Yu Xiang’an were her granddaughter-in-law. Between her and Ding Minxiu, Yang Xizhi would have preferred Yu Xiang’an—both in looks and personality.

And one was Yu Qingshan’s biological daughter, while the other was his stepdaughter. Everyone knew who mattered more.

Yang Xizhi shook her head. There was nothing to be done now.

*

Yu Xiang’an was currently immersed in the joy of harvest.

The chestnut tree in Xixi Farm had borne fruit—plentiful and ripe. Though there was only one tree, it was lush and thriving.

Chestnuts had prickly shells, but the game’s design allowed for one-click harvesting, automatically removing the husks. This saved her a lot of effort—otherwise, peeling each spiky shell would have taken forever.

As soon as the chestnuts were stored, she fried some with sugar and sand, making the fragrant, sweet, and glutinous street-style roasted chestnuts.

They were delicious but a bit heaty—too many might cause breakouts. So she only ate a small plate before moving on to making chestnut cakes.

Her stove had expanded from two to four spots, but she still didn’t have an iron pot.

Now she had a clay pot, a sand pot, and a carefully selected flat stone slab.

Ironware was just too hard to come by.

During the Great Leap Forward, every household’s iron had been confiscated. Luckily, communal dining was the norm back then, or cooking would have been impossible. Later, the confiscations stopped, but the seized items were never returned. Melted iron didn’t just reappear, so buying new pots was a challenge—especially since their area had no iron mines. Everything had to be transported from elsewhere.

Besides the stove, her duck flock had grown, the fish ponds had expanded from one to three, and soybeans now covered an acre. The fruit tree saplings were thriving, and Yu Xiang’an hadn’t given up on introducing new species to the farm.

She had tried many methods—like bringing fertilized eggs into the farm for the ducks to hatch. But when the eggs should have hatched, nothing happened. After a dozen attempts, she realized it was a farm setting limitation.

No loopholes allowed.

With the chestnut cakes done, Yu Xiang’an prepared to harvest honey. Fully covered in loose clothing, she used a simple centrifugal extractor.

She had set up beehives—rectangular boxes with only small openings at the bottom for bees to enter and exit. Inside, frames allowed the bees to build honeycombs.

When harvesting, she removed the frames, placed them in the extractor, and spun them gently. The honey would slowly separate from the combs, and the bees would continue their work afterward.

The bee colony had grown too, thanks to the soybeans and flowering fruit trees.

Like now—the chestnuts were ripe, and the pear trees were in bloom.

After some effort, she harvested nearly two pounds of honey. Yu Xiang’an was satisfied.

With more flowers and bees, the yield would only increase.

Honey was a treasure—versatile and sweet.

She set aside half a pound for her family and half for her grandmother.

They treated her well, so she reciprocated.

Storing the rest in the warehouse, she noticed the growing collection of jars.

She still occasionally visited the black market, snapping up good finds and sometimes selling goods—though not apples (too conspicuous). Instead, she sold processed items like tofu.

Sometimes, she traded tofu for fresh produce like cucumbers or enlisted children to gather flowers for tea in exchange for snacks.

With their help, she had expanded her inventory—flower tea, herbal tea, soybean paste, mushroom sauce, peanut butter, sesame paste, meat sauce, dried vegetables, pickled bamboo shoots, fermented tofu, dried tofu, jam, and even a small jar of wild fruit wine.

She was also experimenting with soy sauce.

Then there were the salted duck eggs, century eggs, and preserved eggs in progress.

The rows of jars were a sight to behold.

Every time Yu Xiang’an saw them, her chest swelled with satisfaction and pride.

From nothing to this—it hadn’t been easy.