Chapter 84:

Yu Xiangyan knew Yu Qingshan had arrived and immediately brought the children over.

He invited Yu Qingshan to stay and eat at his place. Originally, he had been allocated a two-bedroom apartment, but last year, he negotiated with the neighboring household and bought their unit. Now, the two apartments had been combined into a spacious four-bedroom home.

He had three children and had planned for each to have their own room in the future. Now that Yu Qingshan was here, one room would be for him, while the two daughters could share another—just perfect.

Yu Xiang’an wasn’t happy. “Second Brother, that’s not fair. Dad just arrived and hasn’t even spent a day at my place, and you’re already trying to take him away? That won’t do. There should be some order to this.”

Yu Xiangyan retorted, “I’m older than you. Don’t you understand seniority?”

“I don’t. What about ladies first?”

The siblings refused to back down, both wanting Yu Qingshan to stay with them.

Yu Qingshan chuckled happily.

He was delighted that his children cared so much about him. In the end, they agreed that he would stay with Yu Xiang’an for two days first, then spend a few days at Yu Xiangyan’s place.

The twins joined in the excitement. “Grandpa, we’ll go with you!”

Yu Xiangyan assured them, “No problem, come along! Don’t worry about sleeping arrangements.”

The kids could squeeze together—three of them could share a bed.

Yu Xiyi looked at her parents. “Then we’ll stay at Auntie’s place these two days too.”

At Yu Xiang’an’s place, accommodating the three of them was no issue at all.

Yu Xiangyan was now very glad he had bought the neighboring apartment. Otherwise, with his father visiting so rarely, there wouldn’t even be space for him to stay.

As for where the money for the apartment came from—part of it was savings, and part was from investments.

But buying the place had indeed drained most of their reserves. Both he and his wife relied mostly on fixed salaries.

With that settled, Yu Xiyi and her siblings stayed over.

With his grandchildren and grandkids around, Yu Qingshan was overjoyed.

His second son hadn’t returned home during the New Year, so they hadn’t seen each other much. Now, he could finally spend time with them. Moreover, seeing how well his second son was doing filled him with pride.

His son had really made something of himself and now stood as an equal beside his wife.

His daughter-in-law was still quiet and as beautiful as ever, but his son was no longer lacking. They were well-matched. Yu Qingshan had once worried that after her family’s status was restored, she might leave his son. His son must have had the same fear, which was why he had also studied hard and taken the college entrance exam. Fortunately, he succeeded.

Now, one worked in the government, and the other taught at a university. What a wonderful life they had!

The three grandchildren had been born before the family planning policy, so they had both sons and daughters, all well-raised. When the time came, they’d marry off the daughters and bring in daughters-in-law—life would just flow on like that.

Wen Ruzhen asked about her father, Wen Yanjun, who was now working in the county next to Baishi County. He lived alone, eating and staying in the canteen dormitory. Wen Ruzhen occasionally sent him things, wrote letters, or called, but it had still been a while since they’d seen each other.

Yu Qingshan reassured her, “Your father came back during the New Year. We shared a drink together. He’s doing well, no need to worry.”

“We also talked about your younger brother. Your father is worried he still isn’t married.”

At this, Wen Ruzhen smiled. “It shouldn’t be long now.”

Yu Qingshan’s eyes lit up. “Who’s the lucky girl? How old is she?”

“A few years younger than him, also a college graduate. Her family’s from the capital, and she works in the health sector.”

Yu Qingshan nodded approvingly. “A match made in heaven! They share common goals and won’t lack things to talk about. Once they marry and have children, your father will probably forget about work and just want to go back and take care of his grandkids.”

Wen Ruzhen’s smile deepened. “Whatever the case, as long as he finally settles down, that’s what matters.”

Her younger brother was the only one left in her maternal family. Her father had been longing for grandchildren for who knew how long. If a child were born, it was hard to say whether he’d retire just to take care of them.

Then she thought of her younger sister, who had been taken away by their mother, and sighed inwardly. Her sister wasn’t young anymore—perhaps she was married by now. She had no idea how she was doing. Her father had tried to inquire but couldn’t find any leads. The people involved back then had long since been transferred elsewhere, leaving no way to track them down.

They wanted to find them, to know if they were doing well.

If they weren’t, they could help. Back then, their mother had divorced out of necessity—to protect herself and the children. It had been the best option. But her sister had been too young to understand, and the thought of her still weighed on Wen Ruzhen’s mind.

Lin Chuanbai added, “I remember your brother got promoted, didn’t he? He’s a county magistrate now.”

“Yes, he was promoted.” Wen Ruzhen’s smile widened.

Yu Qingshan hadn’t known this and was surprised. “County magistrate already? That’s incredible!”

Wen Ruzhen waved it off modestly. “It’s nothing special. He’s just serving the people as usual.”

Yu Qingshan shook his head. “At his age, reaching such a position—and you say it’s nothing? That’s humility. He must have real talent. The masses have sharp eyes—if he weren’t outstanding, how would the higher-ups entrust him with such responsibility? And how would those under him respect him?”

Looking at his radiant daughter-in-law, Yu Qingshan recalled the life they’d led before their rehabilitation. The contrast was enough to make anyone sigh.

Back then, to avoid being recognized, the siblings had stayed indoors for days on end, afraid others would scorn them for their “bad background.” Now, with no such stigma and stable jobs, it felt like a lifetime ago.

Come to think of it, both his second son and his second nephew had fallen for girls who were “out of their league.” But their outcomes had been different. His son had stayed with his wife during their hardest times, had children, and eventually caught up with her. Their life together was harmonious.

But his second nephew hadn’t been so lucky. For that educated youth, a man who had only finished elementary school had gritted his teeth, swallowed his frustration, and picked up books again, shamelessly asking others for help—all to be worthy of her. He’d studied like his life depended on it for the college entrance exam.

But when the time came, she flew back home. He failed the exam, wallowed in despair for days, then kept pushing. For a whole year, he neglected farm work to study. If not for his elder brother supporting the family, how could he have afforded such indulgence?

Eventually, he passed the exam and went to Shanghai—the same city as that educated youth. Logically, things should have worked out. But whenever asked if they were dating, he’d hem and haw, never giving a straight answer.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out—she hadn’t agreed.

Considering she’d left a year earlier, maybe she’d found someone else in the meantime. But no.

His nephew had graduated, and there was still no resolution. That was just cruel—was she stringing him along on purpose?

Only last year had he finally married another teacher. Their child was due this year.

Though there had been twists and turns, if not for that girl, his nephew might never have pushed himself to get into college and become a teacher.

“My brother called with good news too.” Lin Chuanbai’s elder brother, Lin Guangbai, was also in Shanghai.

Lin Guangbai kept in touch with Yu Manwu—the only relative he had in Shanghai was Yu Manwu, his younger brother’s wife’s cousin. By blood, they were fairly close.

Yu Xiang’an hadn’t heard about this yet. “What good news?”

Lin Chuanbai grinned. “My brother got promoted too. He’s now the Party secretary of a development zone in Yancheng. It’s much closer to here now.”

Yu Xiang’an recognized the name—about four hours by train.

The shorter distance would make visits much easier.

Yu Qingshan laughed heartily. “That’s wonderful news!”

“Indeed.”

Yu Qingshan asked, “What about your sister-in-law?”

“Still in Shanghai. She has her job, and the kids are in school.” His sister-in-law was also in the system. While family reunions were ideal, transferring jobs wasn’t something that could be done overnight.

Yu Qingshan hinted, “Long-term separation isn’t good for a family.”

Yu Xiang’an nodded seriously. “It’s only temporary.” Her words carried a double meaning.

Yu Qingshan shot her a sidelong glance.

Yu Xiang’an turned away.

Yu Qingshan then turned back to Lin Chuanbai. “How old are your brother’s kids?”

“About two years older than mine. My eldest sister’s child is the oldest.”

“The one who’s a doctor in the city?”

“That’s right.”

“I remember your sister only has one child.”

“Yep. He’ll take the college entrance exam next year. My sister’s torn between whether he should study medicine or become a teacher.”

Yu Qingshan waved a hand. “Both are great options. Ask the kid what he prefers…”

While the adults talked, the children gathered elsewhere. Lin Yihong brought out a tank assembled from bullet casings and a wooden pistol. Lin Yining showed off a modified military uniform that fit her perfectly.

Seeing these, Yu Xiyi and her siblings were thrilled. “Can I borrow your pistol?”

Lin Yihong was generous. “Sure, but be careful with it.”

“Here, you take the gun, I’ll take the tank—let’s play war!”

The twins treasured these items and usually only shared them with close playmates.

Lin Yining also brought out photos taken during their time in the military.

Nothing confidential was visible in the pictures, but the olive-green backdrop gave them a distinct aura.

The twins’ energy in the photos was completely different from before.

The adults noticed the commotion. Yu Xiangyan peeked over and teased Yu Xiang’an, “You actually let them go? Look how tanned they are—and that scrape on their hand in the photo. They really toughed it out.”

Yu Xiang’an glanced at the twins. “Do they look miserable to you? They had a blast.”

Lin Chuanbai sighed. “I’m surprised they stuck with it.”

Yu Xiang’an shrugged. “Whether they want to go back is up to them.”

Lin Chuanbai stayed silent. Their grandfather wanted them to keep experiencing military life, and the kids seemed willing. Chances were, they’d return next summer.

Lin Chuanbai: “…”

His heart ached.

He knew this training was for their own good and that he shouldn’t oppose it. But he just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm.

Their mother wanted them to keep at it. Given their family’s growing prosperity, hardships would only become rarer for them. Enduring some now, while they were still young, wouldn’t hurt. Lin Chuanbai understood that.

But with the kids gone for two months, he’d even lost focus in the lab.

It wasn’t like when they were with their mother—he knew she’d take care of them, so he didn’t worry. But in the military, no one would coddle them. That thought gnawed at him.

Maybe it was because he’d once been alone, with only the old Taoist priest who raised him as family. Now, in this life, he had a partner, children, and more loved ones—but also more ties that tugged at his heart.

He wasn’t as worried about Yu Xiang’an. Short of a true disaster, with her space, she could always retreat to safety. But the kids were different—still young, still vulnerable. If they were bullied, they might not even realize it.

How could he not fret?

Emotionally, he couldn’t let go. But logically, he knew they were safe. So he buried his unease deep inside.

Yu Xiang’an walked over and squeezed his hand.

She understood.

But the kids weren’t that small anymore.

Sooner or later, they’d grow up and leave.

—

Yu Xiang’an’s return meant she wouldn’t head back to the Special Economic Zone anytime soon—she had business to settle regarding the food court.

The food court covered over 600 square meters. For residential space, that would be sizable, but for a commercial complex, it was modest. Still, it was sufficient for now. With shops ranging from 10 to 20 square meters, each floor had 38 units.

Two floors meant 76 shops in total.

Even before renovations were complete, Yu Xiang’an had put up rental notices outside, easily visible to passersby.

Zhong Jianqiang was the first to inquire about pricing.

Yu Xiang’an set mid-range rents, slightly higher than nearby rates—but with good reason.

The shops were brand-new, and the clustering of diverse vendors would draw crowds. Plus, dedicated staff would handle public area cleanliness.

The first floor rented out quickly. The second floor, being less visible, was cheaper but slower to fill.

Yu Xiang’an wasn’t worried. Progress took time.

After her return, she inspected the site, settled the final payments, and officially opened for leasing.

Many came to ask, but only a fraction committed. Still, with enough interest, over half the first-floor shops were soon occupied.

This was, after all, a university district—foot traffic was guaranteed. Students usually had some disposable income, and everyone needed to eat. While eating out daily wasn’t feasible, occasional treats were reasonable.

Across the entire student body, that added up to a sizable customer base.

Zhong Jianqiang rented two stalls—one for skewers and the other for ingredients.

The fresh vegetables, eggs, and pork they sourced from the countryside were all displayed here, primarily catering to nearby restaurants. Running a restaurant here required a lot of ingredients, so he set up shop to let everyone know these items were available. Some people, drawn by convenience, would come.

Zhong Jianqiang planned to try it out for a few months first. If it didn’t work out, he’d withdraw—the rent for those few months was manageable. If it succeeded, they were already purchasing supplies anyway; increasing the volume wouldn’t be much trouble, and they could earn a tidy profit from the turnover.

Yu Xiang’an also opened a shop here, transferring Qi Xiaohui to take charge. The original Wuwei Restaurant relocated here as well, occupying the prime spot at the intersection. The former Wuwei Restaurant merged with the hot pot restaurant, becoming part of it.

Qi Xiaohui, who had previously managed Wuwei Restaurant, was now promoted to oversee this location. In addition to managing Wuwei Restaurant, she also handled issues from other tenants in the food court when Yu Xiang’an was unavailable. Her salary increased by half, and she threw herself into the work with renewed vigor.

Beyond these, there were stalls selling cold dishes, dumplings, pancakes, breakfast items, hand-pulled noodles, and more. Yu Xiang’an preferred to attract vendors offering unique items to ensure variety.

Once rented, the stalls needed furnishing and decoration. The tenants worked quickly—the sooner they set up, the sooner they could open and start earning.

Yu Xiang’an had the interiors painted white beforehand. For those who weren’t picky, adding tables, chairs, kitchen equipment, and utensils was enough to start business.

Chen Long also rented a small stall of about ten square meters here.

He had entered this trade early. Shortly after the restaurants here opened, he began purchasing wholesale and reselling the goods in the factory’s residential area. Though it was embarrassing, it brought in money—enough to buy food for his family.

From then on, he came early every morning to buy wholesale. With limited capital, he started with vegetables and off-cuts, which were favorites among the men in the residential area. A small plate paired with a cup of liquor was their idea of bliss.

Over time, his savings grew, and his parents’ faces brightened. Earning money was what mattered most. When survival was at stake, pride was meaningless.

Though others gossiped about him, their words caused no real harm. But if he didn’t do this, hunger was a tangible reality. His earnings steadily increased.

Though he couldn’t hold his head high in public, his family knew exactly how much he made. They lost face but gained real benefits.

Gradually, he expanded his wholesale business, even bringing childhood friends into the trade. When life was hard, there was no room for pickiness.

Each had their own territory, earning just enough to get by. Chen Long worked tirelessly, expanding his reach, and his income grew. Slowly, his family acquired necessities they had lacked before.

His grandmother’s illness was cured, and the family remained intact.

Wuwei Restaurant had helped him.

When he saw the rental notice, he was inspired. His grandmother’s braised rice wasn’t great, but her steamed buns were renowned as the best in the factory.

She wasn’t too old and was restless at home. After her illness, she understood the value of money. When Chen Long proposed the idea, she agreed immediately, swiftly renting a stall.

As an early tenant, he was exempt from rent for the first half-month—enough time to set up.

He would continue his wholesale business, leaving retail to his mother while helping his grandmother at the stall.

—

Qi Xiaohui’s work was in full swing, stirring excitement among others. In this atmosphere, Wei Funi and Lu Xiao were also promoted.

As veterans who had followed Yu Xiang’an from the start, their positions rose with her expanding ventures. Wei Funi became the manager of the hot pot restaurant, while Lu Xiao took charge of another Wuwei Restaurant.

Their bonuses were tied to monthly profits. When business thrived, bonuses far exceeded their fixed salaries.

With this incentive and their youth driving them, they dedicated themselves fully. Such opportunities were rare elsewhere.

—

Yu Xiang’an handled the leasing matters, overseeing countless details. With Qi Xiaohui nearby to consult on issues, she didn’t need to monitor everything personally.

Wen Ruzhen watched the constant stream of visitors with envy.

Life here was bustling and dynamic. Moreover, she observed Lin Chuanbai—despite Yu Xiang’an’s busy schedule and neglect of home, he supported her unconditionally.

Though women were said to hold up half the sky, in reality, even in dual-career households, women often made more compromises. Long separations could strain relationships and invite outside interference.

Her brother-in-law was popular among female students, and her sister interacted with many people. Yet, they trusted each other completely—a rare and enviable bond.

Yu Xiang’an’s busy lifestyle had become routine for Yu Qingshan. Seeing his familiarity, Yu Xiangyan realized their father must have assisted often in the special economic zone.

Balancing responsibilities here and in the special economic zone, Yu Xiang’an also maintained personal connections.

When Liu Mingyue and Wang Haiwen answered her call to visit, Liu Mingyue clapped her shoulder. “You’re living it up—gone for half a year! Planning to settle there?”

Yu Xiang’an smiled wryly. “When work calls, what can I do?”

Liu Mingyue shook her head. “More and more people are diving into business now. Before, you could count them on one hand. Now, especially in enterprises, the numbers have doubled.”

Yu Xiang’an chuckled. “Doubling isn’t much when the base was small.”

The peak of entrepreneurship was still years away. Only when early adopters prospered would others abandon their stable jobs for greater profits.

Yu Xiang’an studied her. “Thinking of joining?”

Liu Mingyue waved a hand. “Just a thought. If I quit, the housing would be reclaimed. Where would the kids live? Their father’s tiny dorm? No space. Sending them to our hometown isn’t an option—the schools there are subpar. Some junior high teachers barely graduated from middle school themselves.”

Wang Haiwen was even firmer. “I’m not considering it. Just don’t forget us when you make it big.”

Yu Xiang’an disagreed. “Don’t be so formal. I’ll need your help often.”

Laughing, she presented gifts from the special economic zone—electronics were easier to buy there, without ration coupons.

She’d brought them watches from Hong Kong.

Liu Mingyue admired her ladies’ watch. “Exactly like in the movies! I’ve always wanted one.” She looked up. “Next month, I’m assigned to the special economic zone. I’ll bring back a color TV.”

Yu Xiang’an turned to Wang Haiwen. “You’re not going?”

“No.”

Liu Mingyue grinned. “Since you’re practically a local there, got anything special planned?”

Yu Xiang’an grinned back. “Of course—how about a boat trip to the sea?”

Liu Mingyue, who’d never seen the ocean, lit up. “Deal!”

“By the way,” she added, “many are contacting our old teacher, asking him to consult.”

Yu Xiang’an nodded. Such arrangements would become increasingly common. Outside the special economic zone, business often required influential backing to smooth the way.

“If you visit, I’ll take you to the clothing market. Pieces that cost six yuan there sell for twenty here. Stock up—you won’t need clothes for years.”

“And the radios there are great too.”

—

After so long apart, they talked extensively. Yu Xiang’an shared updates from the special economic zone, while they relayed local news and changes among teachers and classmates.

Then, the food court’s shops opened. Yu Xiang’an printed flyers and distributed them to nearby schools.

The headline was eye-catching:

“Spend 0.5 yuan for three prize draws—top prize: a watch worth 156 yuan!”

A familiar strategy, a familiar appeal.