Chapter 62:

Yu Manwu thought about it all afternoon and still decided to go find Ruan Chenxi.

Ruan Chenxi looked somewhat helpless. “What do you want from me?”

“I have good news to tell you.” Yu Manwu noticed her reluctance, and his heart ached.

“There’s news that the college entrance exams might be reinstated. You should prepare early.”

Ruan Chenxi froze, staring at him in disbelief. “You… you’re not joking, are you?”

“No, this came from Xiao An.” As he spoke, he seemed to see stars in her eyes—bright and dazzling.

“Thank you for telling me.”

Her words were sincere.

If the exams really were reinstated, knowing in advance and preparing properly would make a world of difference compared to suddenly facing them unprepared.

Yu Manwu smiled faintly. “No need to thank me. I don’t know if it’s true or not, so just take it as hearsay. But I do have something to ask you—if the exams are really reinstated and you pass, where would you go? Would you return to Shanghai?”

Ruan Chenxi hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, I’d go back to Shanghai.”

She knew Yu Manwu’s feelings for her—in fact, almost everyone in the Red Star Brigade knew.

She had rejected him, both directly and indirectly, but he refused to give up. That said, he wasn’t particularly annoying about it—just the usual way a young man tried to win over a young woman. He kept his boundaries, and if she had truly wanted to settle down here, he would have been her first choice. But the problem was, she didn’t want to stay.

So she had no choice but to reject him.

Still, she was touched by his persistence. Not everyone could stay devoted for years on end.

But being touched was one thing. If she stayed here, her future would be one of endless toil under the sun—a life she could see clearly from the start. She wasn’t willing to accept that. Even if she became a formal worker here, her life would improve only marginally.

It was nothing compared to where she grew up.

Ruan Chenxi wanted to go back.

“If I also get into a university in Shanghai, would you give me a chance?”

Faced with the burning intensity in his eyes, Ruan Chenxi found herself speechless for the first time.

Was Yu Manwu saying he wanted to take the exams with her and go to a university in Shanghai?

Her heart pounded. For someone to go this far for another person—his devotion was undeniable. Especially since she knew he had only graduated from elementary school. For him to ask this question must have taken immense courage.

She realized that shaking her head would be difficult. Here was a young man in his twenties, full of vitality and determination, someone who could turn words into action.

If he really could get into a university in Shanghai…

Ruan Chenxi narrowed her eyes, unsure if she was speaking to herself or to him. “I want to stay in Shanghai long-term. If I ever look for a partner, I’d want someone who shares my ideals, someone with common interests and goals.”

Yu Manwu eagerly replied, “I can be that person. You know I have two brothers—I’m the second son. If I go to another city for better prospects, my family won’t stop me. Shanghai is a big city. If I can make it there, they won’t object.”

In other words, he could settle down with her in Shanghai.

Ruan Chenxi felt that if she rejected him now, she might regret it later. If she returned to Shanghai, she could certainly find someone with better family conditions, but would they ever be as sincere as he was?

She looked at him deeply. “If you also get into a university in Shanghai, I’m willing to reconsider our relationship. But let me be clear—I’m not agreeing to anything. I’m just saying I’ll reevaluate.”

For Yu Manwu, this was already hope. He had thought his path was shrouded in darkness, but now there was a glimmer of light—one he desperately wanted to grasp.

His voice trembled with excitement. “I’m not the best at studying, but I’ll work hard. If there’s anything I don’t understand, can I ask you? I promise I won’t bother you too often—I won’t let people misunderstand our relationship.”

He added, “Just occasionally.”

Ruan Chenxi agreed.

Hearing her consent, Yu Manwu grinned so brightly it was almost blinding.

Then he continued, “I’m going into town to buy study materials. Do you want to come with me?”

“If you come, I can bring things back for you. Also, since we don’t know if this news is true yet, it’s best not to spread it. Could you keep it to yourself for now?”

“I’m not asking you to hide it from everyone—just wait a bit. You can hint at it later. If word gets out and rumors spread, it might affect Xiao An’s sister.”

“I understand. I’m grateful you told me.” Ruan Chenxi knew the risks. If the news spread, it could cause misunderstandings and even stir unrest—especially among educated youths. If they got their hopes up only to be disappointed, she didn’t know how they’d react in their despair.

—

Yu Xiang’an wasn’t the only one with inside information. Working at the bookstore, she quickly noticed an increase in customers buying study guides. High school textbooks soon sold out, even going out of stock.

Then Liu Hengbo seemed to have heard something too, urging her to study harder and vaguely hinting at the possibility of the exams being reinstated.

It was a clear signal.

The news was spreading in small circles.

Yu Xiang’an knew she had to act fast.

—

The twins had noticed that their parents hadn’t been spending as much time with them lately. Before, even if one was busy, the other would always play with them. But now, both were buried in books under the lamp, while the twins scribbled on paper with pencils. They preferred building blocks, playing cards, or toy cars, but seeing how hard their parents were working, they behaved and played quietly by themselves.

—

A little over a month later, the news became widespread—even appearing in newspapers, though framed as a question. But soon after, an official announcement confirmed it: the college entrance exams were reinstated.

The exams were scheduled for late June—half a year earlier than in Yu Xiang’an’s past life.

Once the news was confirmed, their bookstore was practically emptied. Every day, people came asking for study materials. Yu Xiang’an took the opportunity to resign.

Liu Hengbo didn’t stop her. “If fate allows, we’ll meet again,” he said.

At the time, she didn’t understand.

Lin Chuanbai followed suit and resigned too.

Many were taking the exams, but few who already had jobs quit to prepare.

The two of them became minor local legends—though many whispered behind their backs that they were fools.

—

After the announcement came registration. They signed up smoothly, and later received their admission tickets. On exam day, they’d present these to enter.

Every time Yu Xiang’an went out, she heard people talking about the exams—whether their families had candidates or not.

For those with candidates, it was a life-changing event. And for those without, who was to say they wouldn’t have one in the future?

The reinstatement of the exams meant a new path—one with great promise. Of course, people were excited.

—

Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai felt like they were back in high school, quizzing each other with difficult problems, then switching to basics, back and forth. Their goal was prestigious universities, so they couldn’t afford to slack off.

They poured all their energy into studying, just like in their senior year.

Time seemed to crawl until exam day finally arrived. At last, the wait was over.

The first exam was Chinese. After writing her name, Yu Xiang’an skimmed the paper and relaxed.

As expected, the first reinstated exams were relatively lenient—likely considering how many had neglected their studies during this period. The questions were mostly basic, with only a few challenging ones to differentiate scores.

She finished early but double-checked carefully before submitting at the official time, not wanting to stand out.

Lin Chuanbai did the same.

Outside the exam hall, many looked dejected, their expressions betraying poor performance. Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai kept straight faces—showing joy might provoke frustrated examinees.

The other subjects went smoothly too.

After the exams, they estimated their scores. The difference wasn’t huge—mostly in subjective sections like essays and political questions, where grading could vary.

At most, they’d differ by 20 points.

Lin Chuanbai’s chances of admission were high, even if his scores were slightly lower. Why?

Because priority was given to fields in demand—like medicine and teaching.

—

After the exams came the nerve-wracking wait for results.

Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai, having quit their jobs, appeared idle to outsiders.

In reality, they were busy selling stockpiled goods. With their move to the capital approaching, they gathered local specialties to store in their warehouse, which kept things fresh for future use.

What should have been a tense waiting period turned into a bustling time of earning and stockpiling. The initial anxiety faded quickly.

—

Back in their hometown, Yu Xiangqing and the others weren’t as calm.

Eight members of the Yu family had taken the exams—Yu Xiangqing and her husband, Yu Xiangyan and his wife, Wen Yizhen, Yu Manwu, plus Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai in Qincheng.

With so many taking the exams, surely at least one or two would pass?

Yu Manwu, following Ruan Chenxi, had chosen a teachers’ college in Shanghai—a field with priority admission. He’d studied relentlessly, asking questions whenever stuck, sometimes from Ruan Chenxi, other times from Yu Xiangyan or Wen Yizhen.

His basics were solid, but the advanced problems eluded him. His foundation was too weak for such a short preparation time.

After grading his practice tests, he knew his chances were slim. But he wouldn’t give up. If he failed this year, he’d try again next.

Yu Xiangyan, Wen Yizhen, and Wen Yizhen all chose the capital—home to the best universities and closer to Nanxi Farm.

Yu Xiangqing and her husband opted for provincial universities, with her aiming for journalism—a surprising choice, as she wanted to be a reporter.

After much deliberation, they submitted their applications and waited.

The wait was agonizing.

But for Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai, it was just another day of preparing for the future.

Yu Qingshan’s demands weren’t high. It didn’t matter who it was—whether someone surnamed Yu or his son-in-law—as long as they passed the exams, he would go buy firecrackers to set off.

Amid the tense waiting, Yu Qingshan was the first to receive Yu Xiang’an’s telegram. The message was brief, just two lines: she had received her admission letter from Qingmu University, and Lin Chuanbai had been accepted by Capital Medical University. They would report to their respective schools on a chosen date.

They had both received their admission letters!!!

Yu Qingshan immediately took out the firecrackers he had prepared and set them off with a loud crackling.

Prestigious universities! The capital!

His daughter had gotten into Qingmu University!

Yu Qingshan went around sharing the good news, and later, he even allowed himself to get thoroughly drunk.

He was happy—truly happy.

He had been worried about her before, but now her life was flourishing.

Good, really good.

While Yu Xiangqing and the others were happy for Xiao An, they were also anxious—they hadn’t received any news yet.

Speak of the devil—the very next day, Yu Xiangqing received her admission letter from a provincial university.

However, Yan Peng hadn’t received his. They had applied to the same university, and it seemed he hadn’t passed. The couple had mentally prepared for this; when they checked their scores, they knew his estimated marks weren’t as high as Yu Xiangqing’s.

When he first heard about the reinstatement of the college entrance exams, he hadn’t taken it too seriously, thinking it wouldn’t happen so soon. He hadn’t put much effort into studying. Now, with one receiving an admission letter and the other not, they faced a dilemma: would they have to live apart?

After discussing it, they decided Yu Xiangqing would go to school first while Yan Peng continued working. He would retake the exams the following year, and once he passed, they could reunite. With a year’s time, Yu Xiangqing could also settle in and then bring their child over.

Since they were within the province, their admission letters arrived quickly. Others’ notifications took longer.

Thanks to Yu Xiang’an’s frequent reminders that the college entrance exams would eventually resume, those who took her words to heart had prepared well and performed decently.

For example, Wen Ruzhen and Wen Yizhen.

When they heard Yu Xiang’an talk about how the future would unfold, they were the most hopeful because it meant they might no longer have to bear such heavy burdens. They wanted to restore their reputations through education.

After the exams, they checked their scores—both had done exceptionally well.

Wen Yizhen outperformed his sister. Without family responsibilities, he had spent all his free time reading outside of work.

His results were shockingly good—he ranked first in their city.

City newspapers and education officials came to congratulate him and present awards.

Yu Shunwen felt like he had been struck by a stroke of luck.

The top scorer in the entire city was from their Red Star Brigade—an employee of the Red Star Paper Mill!

What incredible fortune! Not only was this young man handsome, but his mind was just as sharp. He had truly brought them great honor!

Even though he wasn’t originally from their village, he was now registered there. If anyone dared say he wasn’t one of them, Yu Shunwen would argue fiercely.

Wen Yizhen received his admission letter from Capital People’s University. Not long after, Wen Ruzhen’s arrived—she had been accepted by Capital Normal University.

Then came Yu Xiangyan’s. He got into a technical college in the capital.

He had chosen to accept program adjustments—his original choice was history, but he was reassigned to mathematics.

Seeing the admission letter, Yu Xiangyan felt both joy and sorrow. Joy because he hadn’t fallen behind—even if it was a technical college, it was still a university, a miraculous achievement for the Yu family. But mathematics…

He touched his thick hair. Would he go bald by the time he graduated?

No, no!

Please, no!

Baldness was so unattractive—he’d definitely be disliked. He had to find a way to prevent it.

…

When Yu Qingshan heard the news, he felt he needed to go back and burn incense for their ancestors. Counting carefully, three members of the Yu family had passed the exams. Including daughters-in-law and sons-in-law, that made five. What did that mean?

Yu Changyou was the happiest, grinning at everyone he met.

Once they graduated, the Yu family would rise in status. If they didn’t become a scholarly family now, it would be a disservice to the schools they had gotten into.

The acceptance rate in Red Star Brigade was astonishingly high compared to other brigades. Of the nearly 30 educated youths there, 25 had taken the exams. The rest had either given up due to age or couldn’t participate because they had started families.

Among those who took the exams, Ruan Chenxi received her admission letter from Shanghai University of Posts and Telecommunications, as she had hoped. Two others also got in.

But Yu Manwu didn’t pass.

His score might have been enough for less competitive schools in remote areas, but he had applied to Shanghai.

After waiting in vain, Yu Manwu bought alcohol and drowned his sorrows for three days. When he emerged, his despair was no longer visible. He went to Ruan Chenxi and said, “I’ll retake the exams next year. Will you wait for me? Could you promise not to start a relationship within this year?”

Ruan Chenxi felt disappointed—disappointed that he hadn’t passed.

The uncertainty was great. Could he really make it next year?

His foundation was too weak.

Cramming at the last minute meant many things couldn’t be absorbed in time.

“I’ll focus on my studies at university. I won’t consider relationships for now.” That was the truth.

For Yu Manwu, it was hope.

He wasn’t out of the game yet.

Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai hadn’t elaborated in their telegram, but their rankings were outstanding.

Lin Chuanbai ranked third in the province for science, and Yu Xiang’an was second in liberal arts.

Top of the list.

After receiving their admission letters, they began preparing. Lin Houpo was the most excited—he had been the most skeptical before, but now he was overjoyed.

He immediately wrote to a former comrade in the capital: “We used to serve together. Later, he transferred to the local Public Security Bureau as deputy director. You can reach out to him—he knows the area well. Since you’re bringing the children, you’ll need help finding childcare while you’re in class. He can recommend options. If you need to rent a place, he can help with that too.”

“Thanks, Dad. Can we buy property there?” Lin Chuanbai’s question made Lin Houpo stare at him. “…Are you planning to sell this house and buy one there? You’re not coming back?”

“No, we won’t sell this place. We’ll keep it—it might be useful later. Our household registrations will follow our schools’ collective registrations. We’re just worried about the kids—where will their registrations go? So, we want to buy a small place, even if it’s run-down or remote, as long as it lets us register the kids.”

Lin Houpo nodded. That made sense.

If they wanted to keep the children with them, it was best to have both registered together.

“Are you planning to settle in the capital long-term?”

“Yes.”

They really wanted to buy a courtyard house within the Second Ring Road, but they couldn’t justify having that much money yet. They’d have to wait.

For now, they’d rent a place between the two universities for four years.

“The opportunities there are better than here.” Lin Duzhong understood—he had also wanted to venture out when he was young.

Lin Houpo sighed and nodded. “I’ll ask him to help look. He knows the area better than you.”

“What does he like?”

Even with connections, it wasn’t good to ask for favors empty-handed.

“He likes alcohol and meat.”

A straightforward, common, and practical preference.

Before leaving, they gave small farewell gifts to colleagues and others.

Before departing, Yu Xiang’an also asked Liu Hengbo about Nanxi Farm. Liu Hengbo said things were more relaxed there now—life was manageable, so she didn’t need to worry.

At that, Liu Hengbo smiled mysteriously. “If fate allows, we’ll meet again.”

Yu Xiang’an: “???”

But Liu Hengbo said no more, only giving a cryptic smile.

They packed their things and boarded the train to the capital. Watching the scenery recede outside the window, both felt exhilarated.

They had finally reached this point.

The college entrance exams had resumed—how far could reform and opening-up be?