Chapter 66:

If you didn’t see it, fine, but once you do, it’s impossible to ignore.

That’s a precious cultural relic—something that should be carefully preserved in a museum! These artifacts have weathered the tides of history, bearing witness to the passage of time and human civilization. How could they possibly be used as makeshift table supports here?

And the treatment they’re getting—if this table “dies of old age,” will they be buried along with it?

Turning back, they disguised themselves and took the bronze tripod. They also visited other recycling stations in the capital to see if there were any similar items.

Their goal was twofold: First, for relics like these, private ownership wasn’t permitted, so they could discreetly donate them to museums. As for items that could be privately collected—well, they weren’t the type to scorn wealth. They could either hold onto them for appreciation or pass them down as family heirlooms.

The capital truly lived up to its reputation.

If there was one place that never lacked antiques, it was here.

Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai even stumbled upon a painting that closely resembled an authentic work by the Tang Dynasty master Wu Daozi.

The two of them were like mice that had fallen into a rice vat, using their savings to continuously haul these treasures into their space.

If they ever decided to retire early and live idle lives, they’d never have to worry about food or clothing for generations.

The thrill of finding hidden gems was addictive. They kept at it for quite some time, only stopping when they nearly drew attention. That was when they received a letter from Qin Shenghua.

Now that Yu Xiang’an was in the capital, the distance between her and Qin Shenghua had shortened. The letters she sent arrived quickly, and his replies no longer took as long.

When she received the letter, she assumed it would be casual chatter, but it turned out to be far from it.

The letter wasn’t long, but its contents were distressing.

After hearing Lan Wangshan talk about his son’s sacrifice, Yu Xiang’an had grown increasingly worried about Qin Shenghua, who worked in the same dangerous profession. Knowing that ginseng could help stabilize a person’s vital energy in critical moments, they had used high-quality ginseng to make life-saving pills and sent them to him, urging him to carry them at all times.

Lan Wangshan’s son had been Qin Shenghua’s comrade-in-arms, and Qin Shenghua had even taken on some filial duties, helping to care for Lan Wangshan’s grandson.

This only confirmed that Qin Shenghua’s work was fraught with danger.

If she could help prevent such tragedies, Yu Xiang’an wouldn’t hesitate.

Her kindness hadn’t gone to waste. Qin Shenghua had always carried the pills with him, though they hadn’t been needed—until now.

But it wasn’t Qin Shenghua who had used them—it was his comrade.

At the time, everyone had assumed the man wouldn’t survive. In the critical moment, Qin Shenghua remembered the pills his cousin had sent and administered them. Miraculously, the man’s condition stabilized, and after emergency treatment, he pulled through.

Though he could no longer serve in the military and would have to transition to civilian work, his life had been saved.

That alone was enough.

After rejoicing for his comrade, Qin Shenghua became fixated on the idea: If they had more of these pills, how many more lives could they save?

Of course, he knew such things weren’t cheap. He had no idea where his cousin had gotten them, but if she could procure them once, perhaps she could do it again.

He enclosed three hundred yuan in the letter—some from himself, some from his comrade—hoping Yu Xiang’an could help.

If she couldn’t, so be it. But if she could, they wanted to stock up. These could mean the difference between life and death.

Yu Xiang’an frowned as she read. Qin Shenghua had detailed his comrade’s brush with death but said nothing about whether he himself had been injured. She could only imagine he had been hurt but chose to downplay it, focusing only on the good news.

Hopefully, it wasn’t serious.

She showed the letter to Lin Chuanbai, who nodded. “We can make more. Charge them the market rate. If he asks later, just say we happened to come across some high-quality ginseng.”

The market rate was already a bargain—unless purchased through official channels, such items typically sold for double or more on the black market.

Especially high-grade ginseng. People fought over it, desperate to have it on hand for emergencies.

Lin Chuanbai had studied pharmaceutical science. Early on, he had focused on building his foundation—Lin Duzhong had taught him diagnostics and prescriptions, but when it came to drug formulation, he had to figure things out on his own.

Now, at university, things were different. There were experts everywhere, and no professor would turn away an eager student. He had learned a great deal.

The medicine he produced now was far superior to his earlier attempts, and he had even made breakthroughs beyond traditional Chinese and Western medicine—developing sunscreen and hand cream as gifts for Yu Xiang’an.

Free of unnecessary additives, these products had a short shelf life, but they were perfect for her personal use. Once they ran out or expired, he could simply make more.

Yu Xiang’an sent the package, and when Qin Shenghua received it, he was overjoyed.

Just as she had suspected, his arm was in a cast—fortunately, it was his left hand. Had it been his right, his handwriting would have given him away.

—

Yu Xiangyan, Wen Ruzhen, and Wen Yizhen arrived with a Peking duck in hand.

Wen Ruzhen had also made a pair of rabbit-shaped cotton shoes for the twins—adorable enough that Lin Yining clung to them the moment she saw them. Yu Xiang’an couldn’t help but admire them too.

She could carve equally charming rabbits out of food, but when it came to knitting and sewing… she was hopeless.

Now that they were settled into university life, the siblings were eager to investigate their father’s situation at Nanxi Farm.

Yu Xiang’an understood their urgency—this was their father, a man they loved dearly.

And they hadn’t seen him in years.

That they had held out this long was impressive.

But she had to be upfront: “His reputation hasn’t been restored yet, and he’s still at Nanxi Farm. If you go looking for him, you could be implicated.”

Their student statuses could be affected. She didn’t recommend openly seeking him out unless they had solid connections—which they didn’t.

If the guards at Nanxi Farm were uncooperative, the risks were real. There were always people who resented others’ good fortune, and many had been brought down by such malice.

Through Liu Hengbo, Yu Xiang’an had arranged for supplies to be sent in, but she knew the restrictions were tight. Sending items was one thing; visiting was another matter entirely.

She urged them to wait—just until next year, when things would likely improve.

Reform, rehabilitation, and the return of educated youth were already showing signs in the newspapers.

If they drew attention now and lost their student statuses, even if their father was later exonerated, reinstating their positions could be complicated. If denied, they’d have to retake the exams—a waste of time.

Yu Xiangyan squeezed Wen Ruzhen’s hand under the table. “We’ll go to Tongcheng first to gather information before deciding. I don’t think we should rush in recklessly—we’ve waited this long.”

Wen Ruzhen gripped his hand tightly. “In his letters, he never mentions anything bad. I’m afraid he’s putting on a brave face. His health was never great, and after all these years of hardship…”

Wen Yizhen’s jaw clenched, his entire body tense. He didn’t speak, but his eyes burned with something fierce.

Yu Xiang’an glanced at him, then quickly looked away. The resentment and frustration in his gaze, the desperate need to change their circumstances—it was almost blinding.

There was a fire in his heart.

She hoped it wouldn’t consume him.

After a moment, she suggested, “You could visit during breaks, under the guise of tourism. The area has historical sites—it’s easy to get travel permits as students. To avoid suspicion, you could also visit nearby cities.”

“If you’re lucky, you might find a way in. I’ve heard they have a school there. If you go during holidays, you could pose as volunteers offering extracurricular classes.”

Wen Ruzhen and Wen Yizhen brightened at the idea.

Yu Xiangyan gave a thumbs-up. “Xiao An, that’s brilliant!”

After they left, Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai’s mood was heavy as they taught the twins.

Lin Yining, flipping through flashcards, suddenly reached up and touched Yu Xiang’an’s cheek. “Mama, don’t be sad. Here, have my candy. It’s sweet—it’ll make you happy.”

Yu Xiang’an’s heart melted. No wonder people called daughters little cotton-padded jackets—this one had warmed her to the core.

“Thank you, Yining. Mama’s happy now.” She gave her a kiss.

Lin Yihong leaned in. “Me too, Mama.”

“Come here…”

Just seeing them lifted her spirits.

Things would only get better from here.

—

Day by day, their house took shape. Each visit brought visible progress—the dark outer layer was scraped off and repainted, the walls inside smoothed with putty. Beyond that, there were no frills.

The fence was repaired, and the chaotic construction debris cleared, leaving open space for gardens—flowers, vegetables, or herbs.

Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai decided to split the area: half for crops, half for medicinal plants. They’d plant once the house was ready.

After the main structure was complete, they moved on to details—wiring, doors, and windows.

Everything was simple, without unnecessary ornamentation.

They both suspected the property would be repurposed later. Its proximity to the university district made it ideal for business. If it became a shop, they’d need to renovate again—no point in overdoing it now.

Watching the house come together was deeply satisfying.

They’d live here for at least four years, until graduation.

With six rooms (after converting one upstairs into a kitchen), space was tight. Downstairs held a guest room and a playroom-slash-study for the twins. Upstairs had the master bedroom, the children’s room, and a study.

The house originally lacked kang beds, but after experiencing their warmth in winter, they installed one in the guest room—large enough for four adults.

The workers, under deadline, worked diligently. Soon, the house was ready.

After moving in furniture and airing out the place, they could settle in.

For furnishings, they opted for secondhand pieces—except the beds, which were new.

At the used furniture market, they found treasures, including a sandalwood desk that made Lin Chuanbai’s heart race.

Sandalwood—in the future, a set could sell for hundreds of millions. Even now, this one, in perfect condition, was worth a fortune. Yet here it was, theirs for ten yuan.

No wonder people loved treasure hunting. The thrill of paying pennies for priceless items was irresistible.

They filled the house piece by piece, stashing anything too conspicuous in their space for later.

Once everything was arranged and the smells had faded, they picked an auspicious day for a housewarming.

Family—Yu Xiangyan, Wen Ruzhen, and Wen Yizhen—were must-invites. So were Zhao Li’s family and Liu Hengbo.

They didn’t invite classmates. Owning such a house was already conspicuous. As peers, everyone had started from the same place—yet they had a “mansion” while others had nothing. Envy could sour relationships.

Better to keep things low-key.

During Yu Xiang’an’s lunch break, she went to see Liu Hengbo. She arrived early, and he hadn’t yet taken his nap. Having just finished his meal, he was practicing calligraphy.

He was practicing with a brush. Back when he was a store manager in Qincheng, he couldn’t indulge in this hobby, but now that he had returned to teaching, he could finally write calligraphy freely and without restraint.

Yu Xiang’an saw what he was doing and didn’t disturb him. She stood quietly nearby, waiting for him to finish before stepping forward to speak.

“Xiao An, you’re here.”

“Teacher, the house is all decorated now. We’ve picked a day for the housewarming. I was wondering if you’d be free to join us for a meal.”

“Of course I’m free! I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.”

It was winter, and Yu Xiang’an had already planned what to serve for the housewarming. Instead of preparing a full spread of dishes, she decided to make a soup base and prepare some dipping sauces.

Yes, she planned to have hot pot.

Lamb hot pot was perfect for winter.

The house was spacious—by the standards of most homes at the time, a hundred square meters could accommodate many, many people. Originally, six families had been crammed into this space.

When Zhao Lin and Zhao Mi saw the size of the place, they couldn’t stop exclaiming in amazement.

“If I didn’t remember the location, I wouldn’t believe it.” The place had once been a garbage dump.

“Now it’s so bright and clean!”

“It’s so spacious! Wow, the kitchen is huge!”

The others were just as impressed, though they were better at hiding their reactions.

Yu Xiangyan walked around twice before giving his younger sister and her husband a thumbs-up.

“My standards aren’t high—just having a place to stay would be enough.”

Zhao Li laughed heartily. “You’re a university student. Once you start working, your workplace will definitely want to keep talented people like you.” High salaries were a given, but to truly retain talent, housing was the real deal-breaker.

Yu Xiangyan could only smile in response.

He couldn’t change his major, so he had no choice but to struggle through mathematics.

He seriously suspected that by the time he graduated, he might be bald.

He touched his still-thick hair.

Maybe it was his imagination, but lately, when he washed his hair, it seemed like more was falling out than before. And now, with finals approaching, the shedding had gotten even worse.

Wen Ruzhen noticed his expression and couldn’t help but turn away to stifle a laugh.

As his wife, she also knew about the nightmare he’d had where he went bald.

He had flailed his arms in his sleep, as if trying to grab something, shouting, “My hair! Don’t go! Don’t go!”

The sheer desperation in his voice had startled her.

Zhao Lin, seeing her smile, froze for a moment before glancing at Yu Xiang’an. The sisters-in-law were both beautiful—was this a case of like attracting like?

Then, her eyes secretly drifted toward Wen Yizhen, and her face flushed slightly.

He… was really good-looking.

Like someone from the movies.

And a university student, too.

Zhao Li, noticing her reaction, coughed loudly twice. “I can smell something delicious! What’s cooking today?”

Yu Xiang’an brought out the pot while Lin Chuanbai carried the stove into the living room.

At the time, there were no induction stoves, so they had to use a coal stove.

Yu Xiang’an had already prepared the broth in advance, so all they had to do was heat it up.

The twins also helped by bringing out baskets of ingredients from the kitchen.

Everything had been washed and was ready to be cooked.

For meat, there were slices of pork belly, pork blood, lamb slices, lamb offal, fish slices, eggs, and duck. The vegetable selection was even more extensive—despite it being winter, there were still plenty of options: bean sprouts, radishes, potatoes, Chinese cabbage, winter bamboo shoots, rehydrated wood ear mushrooms, fresh mushrooms, seaweed, and even a basket of vibrant green baby bok choy.

At this time of year, such greens were a rarity.

Yu Xiang’an explained, “Someone grew these on a heated bed. There wasn’t much.”

In reality, she had taken them from her storage space.

Looking at all the food, Yu Xiangyan subtly loosened his belt.

Today was going to be a feast. It was worth skipping breakfast for this.

Zhao Li also gave a thumbs-up. “You’ve really outdone yourselves today.” This wasn’t just about spending money—it also required connections.

Many of these ingredients weren’t even available in the market.

Finally, Yu Xiang’an brought out a plate of sweet potato noodles, which would be added toward the end to soak up the broth.

Lin Chuanbai smiled. “It’s a rare occasion, and we happened to have everything ready.”

Since they couldn’t separate spicy and non-spicy, Yu Xiang’an placed all the condiments on the side so everyone could adjust the flavor to their liking.

The twins loved Yu Xiang’an’s hot pot dipping sauce. No matter what was put in their bowls, they devoured it all.

Once the ingredients started cooking, no one spoke.

Everyone was too busy eating. Zhao Lin had long forgotten about Wen Yizhen’s “good looks”—with such delicious food in front of her, what else mattered?

The hardest part was waiting for the next batch of ingredients to cook after finishing the first pot.

Having learned from the first round, they started filling their bowls ahead of time so they’d have something to eat while waiting.

Yu Xiang’an had prepared enough for three extra people, but by the end, only a few sweet potato noodles remained.

Everyone had loosened their belts and was now slumped contentedly in their chairs.

Yu Xiangyan patted his stomach.

After this meal, he could go without meat for a month.

This feast would sustain him in memory for weeks.

And in the meantime, he could save a little more money.

Watching the twins curled up happily in their chairs, his gaze darkened.

Once he had saved enough, he would bring his children to live with him.

He missed them so much. It had been half a year since he’d seen them—had they forgotten him? Had they grown?

*

Not long after moving into the new house, finals arrived, followed by the winter break. Yu Xiang’an decided to return to Baishi County for the New Year.

It had been three years since she left home—first from Baishi County to Qincheng, then from Qincheng to the capital.

Lin Chuanbai wouldn’t be going back. A professor had taken a liking to him and arranged for him to assist during the winter break.

Yu Xiang’an would travel with Yu Xiangyan and the twins. Notably, Wen Yizhen also wouldn’t be returning this year—he would stay at Nanxi Farm to continue teaching extracurricular classes.

Since Yu Xiang’an was leaving, Lin Chuanbai was a little sulky. With everyone gone, he’d be all alone.

But the professor had personally invited him, and refusing would be unwise—not to mention the opportunity was too good to pass up. Yu Xiang’an could only comfort him. “You won’t have much free time anyway. It’ll pass quickly. I’ve prepared plenty of food for you. With the freezing temperatures, it’ll keep for a long time—enough to last until we return.”

Lin Yihong and Lin Yining were excited about visiting their grandfather.

They had been too young to remember much when they left, but now they were eager to see everyone again.

There were so many relatives there—grandfather, aunts, great-grandparents… so many!

And plenty of kids their age to play with.

They couldn’t wait to go back.

For the trip, Yu Xiang’an packed many local specialties. Peking duck was a must, but given the weather, the flavor would deteriorate during transport. Instead, she decided to invite everyone to the capital someday to enjoy it fresh.

She managed to secure two sleeper tickets—one for herself and the twins, and another for Yu Xiangyan and Wen Ruzhen.

This way, the journey would be more comfortable.

When they arrived in Baishi County, Yu Xiang’an took a deep breath of the familiar air.

Yu Xianghai was already waiting at the station, waving vigorously. “Over here! Second Brother, Little Sister, this way!”

They had a lot of luggage, so Yu Xianghai borrowed a small cart to help transport everything.

“Where’s Dad?”

“At the factory. He couldn’t get away.”

“How is he?”

“Same as always.”

Yu Qinghan now ate at the factory and only returned home at night. Yu Xiangju was still attending school in the commune—frequent transfers would disrupt his studies, and there was also the risk of Zhao Qiaoniang bothering him. They had agreed that after he finished elementary school, he would return to the county for middle school.

It was hard to believe Yu Xiangju was already about to start middle school. Time flew.

When they got home, the place had already been cleaned. The house looked a little older but was still tidy.

Yu Xianghai and Ye Qijia had come over earlier to help with the cleaning.

Since it was almost New Year, they would be returning soon.

After settling in, Yu Xiang’an and the others went to visit her maternal grandparents.

Her main reason for returning was to see the elderly. At their age, every visit counted.

Yu Qinghan was still in good health, but her grandparents—both maternal and paternal—were getting older. Once she started working, she might not have much free time, and there was no guarantee they would still be around then.

Yu Xiangyan and Wen Ruzhen joined them, and they were warmly welcomed.

Yao Cuifeng couldn’t stop smiling, clutching Yu Xiang’an’s hand tightly. “Your father told me you were coming back. I’ve been walking to the gate every day, hoping to run into you. It’s so good to have you back! And these must be Yihong and Yining—what adorable little faces! So full of blessings! Study hard, and maybe you’ll become university students too!”

Qin Qiang, usually a man of few words, also asked them many questions—about school, their teachers and classmates, and what the capital was like.

Neighbors soon gathered, peppering them with questions.

When they mentioned that university subsidies covered living expenses, many of the older folks declared they would force their grandchildren to study, even if it meant wielding a stick.

They had heard about it from the Qin family before but hadn’t quite believed it. Now, hearing it firsthand, they were convinced.

It was safe to say many children were about to endure some tough studying.

Yu Xiang’an answered all their questions patiently. As for their curiosity about the capital, she had come prepared—newspapers, magazines, and photos.

When she pulled out pictures of Tiananmen Square and the Great Wall, the elderly crowded around, and latecomers had to struggle to get a glimpse.