Yu Xiang’an currently consumes some of the produce from her farm, though she finds it somewhat underwhelming now.
Her farm doesn’t follow the seasons, but with modern technology, off-season produce is nothing unusual.
However, the warehouse and the spiritual spring water inside are priceless treasures.
The warehouse can store an unlimited amount of items, and while the spiritual spring water doesn’t seem to have any immediate dramatic effects, its benefits become evident over time—Yu Xiang’an has hardly fallen ill since she started using it.
It may not cure cancer or serious diseases, but it boosts immunity and maintains health, which is already remarkable.
Lin Chuanbai has conducted numerous experiments but still can’t decipher its secrets.
Perhaps he needs more advanced equipment, or perhaps the secret simply can’t be cracked.
Now, with the processing workshop, Lin Chuanbai is relieved—he no longer has to manually prepare medicinal herbs, brew medicinal wines, or make ginseng tonics.
He can even produce moisturizers and lipsticks there.
If this technology could be brought into reality, it would save countless resources.
But even if it can’t, it’s fine—because it saves time, and Lin Chuanbai has discovered new uses for it.
For example, he can conduct control group experiments there, obtaining results in as little as one day.
Lin Chuanbai: “!!!”
This is practically a divine tool!
Yu Xiang’an was equally stunned.
She has a rough understanding of experiments—many require repeated trials to yield results, sifting through countless possibilities, some succeeding, some failing, and even successful ones may hit dead ends later.
Patience and meticulousness are indispensable in this field.
Now, if a possibility is confirmed, the corresponding steps can be carried out in the processing workshop. Once results are obtained, they can be replicated in a real-world lab—this is practically cheating!
Lin Chuanbai lost sleep over this discovery—out of sheer excitement.
Soon after, Yu Xiang’an decided she needed to buy him a car.
Registered under the company’s name for his use.
Otherwise, commuting would be inconvenient.
She couldn’t stay there indefinitely.
Lin Chuanbai also saw the necessity, but…
He considered the implications—if he drove to the university, his colleagues would definitely stare.
Owning a private car in the 1980s—what kind of concept was that?
*
Lin Yihong and Lin Yining are fraternal twins.
They looked somewhat alike as children, but as they grew older, no one would mistake one for the other.
Lin Yihong has a cool, aloof demeanor, making him seem hard to approach, but those who know him realize his expression is misleading.
In contrast, his sister Lin Yining is cheerful, always smiling, sweet-talking, and incredibly popular.
After transferring to Yangcheng, Lin Yining maintained her old connections.
Lin Chuanbai periodically bought envelopes and stationery—Lin Yining was the primary user.
She had many people to write to: her grandmother in the northwest, her great-grandfather and grandfather in Qincheng, Wang Lijun (a friend she met during summer training), and childhood friends in the capital.
Since she was young, Lin Chuanbai would check the addresses before mailing her letters—he respected her privacy and never read the contents.
Besides, she’d eagerly share the details herself.
One day, after finishing a letter to her great-grandfather Lin Duzhong, Lin Yining ran to Lin Chuanbai:
“Dad, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Lin Chuanbai set down his book: “What is it?”
Lin Yining: “One of my classmates is going through a tough time. He’s lost a lot of weight recently—he used to be very cheerful, but now he’s always listless. I want to help him, Dad, but I don’t know how. My allowance isn’t enough.”
Lin Chuanbai grew serious: “What happened to his family?”
“His mom is sick and needs surgery. It’ll cost a lot of money. She’s not a permanent employee, just a temporary worker, so only a tiny portion is covered by insurance. His dad teaches at our school—junior high—and they’re struggling with the medical bills. Dad, I want to help. He’s a good person and has helped me a lot.”
Lin Chuanbai: “How did you find out? Who told you?”
Lin Yining lowered her voice: “I overheard it. When I went to the teacher’s office to submit homework, I heard him asking for leave, and the teacher mentioned it.”
Lin Chuanbai nodded: “Do you know what illness his mom has?”
Lin Yining frowned: “Something like a tumor, I think.”
Tumors could be benign or malignant—if malignant, it’d be serious. Even benign ones depended on their location.
Lin Chuanbai: “What’s your classmate’s name?”
Lin Yining: “I’ve mentioned him before—he sits with Wang Lipan. His name is Chen Yi, but we call him ‘Fatty’ because he’s a bit chubby, though not really fat.”
Lin Chuanbai recalled: “Does he know you overheard?”
Lin Yining shook her head: “No, I didn’t know how to bring it up.”
Lin Chuanbai: “Then tell him tomorrow—say you accidentally overheard and ask how his mom is doing. Since you’re close, suggest visiting her. I’ll go with you to school tomorrow and talk to the teacher. We’ll figure it out, okay?”
Lin Yining brightened: “Okay! That’s great!”
With Mom not home, Dad stepping in would surely find a solution.
The next day at school, Lin Chuanbai apologized to the twins’ homeroom teacher:
“The child didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I brought her to apologize.”
The teacher smiled gently at Lin Yining: “No need. Yining has a kind heart and wants to help. But you’re still young—focus on studying. Leave the rest to adults.”
Lin Yining nodded obediently: “Thank you, Teacher.”
The teacher: “Class is about to start. Go back to the classroom.”
After Lin Yining left, the teacher explained the situation in detail.
Chen Yi’s mom had fallen ill, and the family was struggling with medical expenses.
Lin Chuanbai listened, then said:
“Teacher, my child is close to her classmate. When she first transferred, he helped her adjust. Now that his family is in trouble, I’d like to help. Would it be possible to organize a voluntary donation in class? Students could ask their parents, and those willing could contribute. Even small amounts would help.”
The teacher hadn’t considered fundraising but agreed to propose it to the administration.
The more he thought about it, the more feasible it seemed—small contributions could add up.
Back in class, Lin Yining apologized to Fatty.
He was stunned, as was Wang Lipan beside him.
Fatty shook his head: “It’s fine. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
Wang Lipan was upset: “Why didn’t you tell us about something this big? Have you been going to the hospital after school to take care of your mom?”
Fatty lowered his head: “I didn’t know what to say.”
Wang Lipan fell silent, then: “We’re friends. We can help.”
Fatty shook his head: “We’re just students. Knowing would only make you worry.”
Lin Yining frowned: “My dad wants to visit your mom. Is that okay?”
Fatty looked up, surprised: “Huh?”
Lin Yining: “My parents are amazing. He’ll figure something out!”
…
Lin Chuanbai and Lin Yining visited Chen Yi’s mom in the hospital with a fruit basket.
She was in a shared ward, with her mother keeping her company.
Chen Yi’s dad was busy working and fundraising, leaving little time for caregiving.
“Mrs. Chen, I’m Yining’s father. The kids are close and help each other in school. When my daughter heard about your situation, she was very concerned.”
Mrs. Chen smiled weakly at Lin Yining:
“Yining, my son has mentioned you. He’s been helped by your kindness.”
Despite her illness, her warmth remained.
Lin Yining’s eyes reddened: “Auntie, you’ll get better.”
“Thank you.”
Lin Chuanbai exchanged pleasantries, then noticed a pair of blue-and-white porcelain bowls on the table.
“Are these…?”
Mrs. Chen: “The bowls? My husband bought them years ago from a street vendor. Just two—pretty, but too few to use. We brought them here for the hospital.”
Lin Chuanbai: “May I take a look?”
Chen Yi’s grandmother handed them over, puzzled.
Lin Chuanbai examined them carefully, especially the markings at the bottom, then exclaimed:
“These are Qing dynasty imperial kiln blue-and-white porcelain! I thought they looked familiar—a friend of mine bought a similar pair. These must be from the same series!”
Chen Yi’s grandmother was stunned: “Qing dynasty? Really?”
Lin Chuanbai nodded firmly: “Yes, absolutely. Given their condition, they should fetch a good price.”
At the mention of money, the grandmother perked up: “Can they be sold? How much?”
Lin Chuanbai pondered: “My friend paid 350 yuan for his pair. These should be similar.”
The grandmother gasped: “350 yuan?!”
Mrs. Chen was equally shocked—could these bowls really be worth that much?
Lin Chuanbai nodded: “Would you be willing to part with them? I owe my friend a favor—he’d be thrilled to receive these.”
The grandmother eagerly agreed: “How much would you pay?”
Lin Chuanbai: “350 yuan, fair?”
The grandmother inspected the other bowl, then nodded after her daughter’s approval: “Deal!”
Lin Chuanbai handed over 350 yuan, and the grandmother carefully passed him the bowls.
Mrs. Chen was dazed—she remembered scolding her husband for wasting money on “useless” bowls.
Now they’d sold for 350 yuan.
The other patients buzzed with excitement:
“Do you remember what your bowls look like? I’ll check mine when I get home!”
“They look familiar—I’ll search too.”
If they found similar ones, that’d be a year’s wages!
Outside the hospital, Lin Yining asked:
“Dad, are those really Qing dynasty bowls?”
Lin Chuanbai: “I’m not entirely sure.”
Lin Yining blinked: “Then why give them away? Who’s this friend?”
Lin Chuanbai smiled: “Guess?”
Lin Yining caught on—the “friend” probably didn’t exist.
Her dad had simply created a way to help without making Fatty feel indebted.
She’d been agonizing over how to help—her allowance alone wouldn’t be enough.
Now, with 350 yuan, it’d make a real difference.
Lin Chuanbai didn’t spell it out, letting her reflect.
The amount meant little to them but was life-changing for the Chen family.
The bowls’ authenticity didn’t matter—they served as the perfect pretext.
*
The donation initiative was approved, and the school launched a voluntary fundraiser.
Teachers contributed the most, while students brought home requests—some parents donated small amounts, with anything over 0.5 yuan considered generous.
Lin Yining donated half a year’s allowance.
Fatty was overjoyed—with the combined funds, his mom’s surgery was now within reach.
The illness was treatable, and his spirits lifted.
Lin Yining preferred his usual cheerful self—his earlier gloom hadn’t suited him.
Wang Lipan, from a well-off family, donated over 50 yuan—his entire savings, plus advance “red envelope” money from his mom.
When he smashed his piggy bank, his mom was puzzled until he explained.
She then helped him gather all his coins and advanced two red envelopes for the cause.
Just as Lin Chuanbai had said, the teacher hadn’t mentioned the donation list to Fatty, nor did he know how much others had contributed. Without the psychological pressure, he remained exactly the same as before. If he had known how much his family had donated in total, there might have been some changes.
Lin Yining decided not to say anything and let the matter remain a secret.
However, she no longer had any pocket money, so she pestered Lin Yihong. Most of Lin Yihong’s pocket money had also been donated, leaving only a little for occasional water purchases at school when it was hot or he was thirsty. Beyond that, there was nothing else—money was tight. Knowing this, Lin Chuanbai didn’t increase their allowances.
The twins weren’t lacking in food or necessities—their home had everything. But if all their money was spent on good deeds while their parents quietly compensated them, it could easily foster the mindset that no matter how much they spent, their parents would always make up for it. That wouldn’t be good.
Neither of them asked for more, showing remarkable maturity.
Still, Lin Yining started taking snacks from home more frequently to share with her classmates. Given Chen Yi’s family situation, even the little fatty had lost some of his plumpness.
So, she brought extra dried meat to satisfy his cravings.
Lin Chuanbai didn’t interfere—there was plenty of beef jerky in stock, and his daughter didn’t overdo it when sharing. Besides, the recipients often returned the favor, even if not with meat. It was a normal social exchange.
The twins knew their limits. They never flaunted their family’s wealth or possessions to their classmates.
For one, being wealthy wasn’t particularly remarkable at this time. Unlike later generations, there wasn’t a strong materialistic culture. Many people looked down on those who had made their fortune through business, dismissing them as nouveau riche with no staying power—a common attitude.
Of course, there were indeed some who, with newly fattened wallets, behaved like stereotypical nouveaux riches, tarnishing their reputations.
Lin Chuanbai trusted his children in this regard.
*
Yu Xiang’an was now splitting her time between two places, primarily in the Special Economic Zone, while occasionally overseeing the newly expanded market in Yangcheng.
She wasn’t as busy as before, even though her operations had grown. Now, she had people she could rely on.
Having capable subordinates meant she no longer had to rush around like a machine. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have had the time to reconnect with her family or stay with them for a while.
On a day off, Yu Xiang’an suddenly felt inspired, and the family went out to sea for fishing. The twins were thrilled, and even Yu Qingshan was looking forward to it—how novel!
At his age, he had fished for fish and turtles but never gone sea fishing.
The Special Economic Zone was coastal, so there were plenty of suitable spots for sea fishing, with nearby fishermen making their living from the sea.
They set up a large sunshade on a stretch of protruding rocks, unfolded small folding stools, and laid out water and fruit before casting their lines.
Each had their own fishing rod, spaced a distance apart.
Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai didn’t let the twins wander too far. If they got greedy and went into the water, it could be dangerous. Just because they could swim didn’t mean they were safe—even strong swimmers could drown. They were still young and lacked stamina.
However, after half an hour, only Lin Yihong had caught a fish weighing less than half a kilogram. The others had no luck.
Yu Qingshan found it bizarre.
Five people, and only one small fish among them.
The bait was still there.
Strange.
But after that half-hour, their luck suddenly turned.
First, Lin Chuanbai reeled in a two-kilogram stonefish. Then Yu Xiang’an caught a small spotted grouper weighing over half a kilogram. Lin Yining followed with a two-kilogram grouper, and finally, Yu Qingshan landed a large tarpon.
Everyone had their catch.
With such a start, things were looking good. They planned to borrow a nearby fisherman’s kitchen to cook their haul on the spot.
If they’d had fewer fish, they wouldn’t have had enough for a meal.
After sitting for over an hour, the kids grew restless. Watching them fidget, Yu Xiang’an stood and handed her fishing rod to Lin Chuanbai. “Come on, let’s go collect seashells. Want to join?”
Lin Yining pulled out her prepared bucket. “Yes! I promised my classmates I’d bring back pretty shells for them.”
Lin Yihong scoffed. Some had asked him too, but he wasn’t interested. What was so fun about shells? If he collected anything, it’d be seashells—no, sea snails.
Yu Xiang’an and Lin Yining combed the area for shells. In later years, vendors would sell shells by the shore, even offering drilling services to turn them into wind chimes or other crafts.
But now, the beach was empty except for the occasional local fisherman.
Shells were scarce.
They walked back and forth several times before gathering a handful of pretty ones.
Seeing them searching, a passing woman called out, “If you want shells, you should go over there.”
Yu Xiang’an thanked her and, after informing Lin Chuanbai and Yu Qingshan, headed to the suggested spot. This time, Lin Yihong couldn’t resist either. He shoved his fishing rod into his grandfather’s hands and ran off—not for shells, but for sea snails.
Sure enough, rounding the area led them to a stretch with far more shells—white, gray-brown, some with natural colorful stripes, all sorts.
Compared to shells, sea snails were much rarer.
Their family had been to the beach before and already had sea snails at home, but Lin Yihong still wanted to collect more here.
He wanted to give some to his classmates. If Lin Yining was bringing shells for her friends, he couldn’t show up empty-handed.
Wouldn’t that make him look bad?
As they searched, they unexpectedly ran into familiar faces—very familiar ones. Seeing the stylishly dressed Yu Mansheng and Lu Anran, along with their baby in a stroller, Yu Xiang’an burst out laughing and turned to leave.
“I won’t disturb you.”
Yu Mansheng was dressed in a pristine white suit, neatly tied with a tie—a far cry from his usual style, exuding elite sophistication.
Lu Anran wore a soft pink gown, perfect for an evening event, while someone behind them snapped photos with a camera.
Were they taking artistic portraits?
Yu Mansheng wouldn’t let her leave. Though he hadn’t thought much of it before, being seen by his sister made his face burn. He grabbed her arm. “Xiao An-jie, did you come alone with the kids? Let’s take a photo together.”
Lu Anran also looked embarrassed. This had been her idea—she wanted to look back on these photos in the future and reminisce happily.
Lin Yining giggled. “No, Dad and Grandpa are here too. They’re fishing over there.”
With elders present, Yu Mansheng chuckled awkwardly. Their family’s photoshoot was nearly done anyway. “Xiao An-jie, look at this backdrop—blue sky and sea. It’s perfect! The prints will turn out great. Don’t worry, I brought plenty of film. There’s enough for your family too.”
He explained, “Actually, this is Anran’s project. She just opened a studio specializing in wedding and artistic portraits, as well as family reunion photos. This is our first ‘client’—supporting our own business.”
Lin Yihong and Lin Yining smirked at him. “Mhmm, we totally believe you.”
Yu Mansheng glared. Hey, these little rascals!
If he didn’t rein them in soon, they’d get too cheeky. Since when did kids tease their elders like this?
Yu Qingshan and Lin Chuanbai studied their almost-gala-like attire with raised eyebrows.
Now prepared, Yu Mansheng repeated his explanation without blushing. “This is Anran’s first business venture. Of course, we’d support it. Uncle, won’t you join us? It’s your niece-in-law’s business.”
A full photoshoot wasn’t cheap, but he knew his uncle’s savings were substantial. Yu Xiang’an paid him a monthly salary and bonuses. Though Yu Qingshan lived modestly out of habit, his bank balance surpassed many households.
Yu Mansheng pitched enthusiastically, “Uncle, the studio has all kinds of costumes—general’s robes, even emperor’s attire. Wouldn’t you like to dress up and take a photo for keepsake? There’s no taboo around these things now—it’s just for fun.”
Yu Qingshan: “Real emperor robes?”
Yu Mansheng: “Well, similar. There’ll be differences, of course.”
Yu Qingshan wasn’t keen on imperial yellow, but the general’s robes intrigued him. What man didn’t dream of being a general?
“How much for a shoot?”
Yu Mansheng grinned. “Who are you? You’re my uncle! You’re helping me build hype—how could I charge you? It’s on the house.”
Yu Qingshan: “If it’s free, I’m not going. Just give me a discount.”
Nearby, Lu Anran watched with a smile. When some of her classmates learned she’d married a “mainland bumpkin,” they’d bluntly warned her she’d regret it—that the backward, conservative mindset and meddling relatives would drive her mad.
But reality?
Her mother-in-law clashed with her on some views, but she never exploited them to favor other children. She was a sensible woman who kept a clean home with hired help—life wasn’t stifling.
As for his relatives, those they interacted with knew boundaries. If others didn’t, it didn’t matter much—they were distant relations anyway.
Every family had a few difficult relatives. Even hers did.
Here, they were just taking photos, and the other party refused to take advantage. Such people were a joy to be around. She’d happily comp them—no, she’d pay them to stay.
The artistic portraits appealed not just to Yu Qingshan but also to Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an.
They hadn’t taken wedding photos when they married—conditions hadn’t allowed it. Now, with openness, Western influences like white weddings were slowly gaining traction.
She wanted to make up for that regret.
What girl hadn’t dreamed of saying “I do” in a white wedding dress before witnesses?
They could hold a ceremony on their anniversary.
Lin Yining’s tastes were straightforward. “I want a princess dress! Auntie, do you have those?”
“Of course!”
Lu Anran had replicated a Hong Kong-style studio, investing heavily in a spacious setup with diverse backdrops and an extensive costume collection.
“The photographer is specially hired—he’s shot for actress Lin So-and-so. Top-notch skills.”
Lin Yining, a fan of her movies, gasped. “Really?!”
Lu Anran laughed. “Yes and no. Don’t expect too much—he was a last-minute substitute for his master.”
Lin Yining was satisfied. “Still amazing! He’s seen her in person, right? I want to meet her too—no chance now, but when I grow up, I will!”
Meanwhile, Yu Xiang’an had picked a spot. “Here, take one of us.”
The family of four stood on the rocks, smiling at the camera as the moment froze.
Once women start taking photos, there’s no stopping them. They exhausted the film before finally heading to a nearby fisherman’s home to borrow a kitchen for cooking their catch.
Lu Anran and Yu Mansheng tagged along.
Long-term exposure to sea winds left its mark on coastal dwellers. The area wasn’t wealthy, though the sea’s bounty meant fishermen often returned with full nets. But typhoons could leave them empty-handed, and with no other income sources, life was precarious.
Arable land was scarce near the shore, forcing reliance on fishing to trade for grain. Earnings went partly to food, partly to household expenses. A streak of bad luck could spell hardship.
Worse, the sea was dangerous. Boats sometimes never returned, leaving families without breadwinners. If children were too young, survival became a struggle—a cycle unbroken in fishing villages.
Now, Yu Xiang’an’s group paid to borrow a kitchen, its owner having scrubbed it clean for their use.
Yu Xiang’an and Lin Chuanbai cooked while the twins marveled at a massive fishing net outside.
Imagine how many fish it could catch in one cast!
After circling it, they went inside, where Lin Yining squinted at a younger child holding what looked like pearls.
Curious, she crouched. “What’s that? Are they pearls?”
The following text is translated into English:
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage