Chapter 91:

These are indeed pearls, but some irregular small ones. They make a living by the sea and know what valuable things the ocean yields.

Lin Yining looked over with interest, and the other party smiled, asking her, “Sister, do you want to buy my family’s pearls? We have even prettier ones.”

Was this an attempt to sell them for money?

Lin Yining liked them.

But she couldn’t afford them.

She was completely broke, with pockets emptier than her face.

Lu Anran was also intrigued and asked the woman of the house, “Did you harvest these yourselves? How many more do you have? Any with good quality?”

Lu Anran had never bought pearls directly from fishermen before—she had only purchased finished jewelry from stores.

Hearing this, the woman of the house immediately went inside and brought out a small pouch. When she untied the drawstring, it revealed pearls the size of a little finger. Unlike the ones her daughter played with, these were more rounded, and some were shaped like teardrops—the kind that could fetch a good price.

While she was busy with the pearls, Yu Xiang’an finished cooking.

It was simple: Lin Chuanbai and Yu Qingshan had cleaned the fish, which were either made into fish congee, steamed, or wrapped in foil and roasted in the fire. Along with a pot of fish soup, the meal was complete.

Lin Yining picked up a trembling piece of fish with her chopsticks and put it in her mouth, then looked at Yu Xiang’an with sparkling eyes: “Mom, fish freshly caught from the sea tastes even better!”

Lin Yihong liked fish heads, so Lin Chuanbai served him an entire one.

Yu Mansheng remarked, “Building a hotel by the sea for this kind of business—it’s doable.”

Lu Anran added, “If the standard is high enough, there won’t be any shortage of guests.”

After eating, Yu Xiang’an asked if they had any local specialties.

The woman of the house went inside and brought out several items: dried seaweed, dried fish, and some unidentified fish bones and stones collected by the children.

Yu Xiang’an looked them over—they were all fairly common things. She bought some that weren’t available at home, paying a fair price, which delighted the seller.

Then, Lin Chuanbai discovered a piece of ambergris.

What is ambergris? It’s a type of fragrant substance derived from whale excrement, sold by the gram at prices comparable to gold.

Clearly, they didn’t know what it was.

Ambergris can be used to make perfume and is also a medicinal ingredient.

Yu Xiang’an didn’t recognize it, but Lin Chuanbai picked it up. “What is this? Do you have any more like it?”

The child of the house shyly hid behind their mother: “I picked it up by the shore. This is the only one.”

Lin Chuanbai: “Can I buy it from you?”

Of course. In their eyes, it was just an unremarkable stone. Even if someone was willing to buy it now, suggesting it might have some other value, they couldn’t identify it. What mattered was the money in hand. If they found another one later, they’d definitely bring it home too.

Afterward, they went straight to the photo studio to take artistic portraits. On the way, Yu Xiang’an asked about the stone. Lin Chuanbai replied, “That’s ambergris.”

Lu Anran: “What?!!”

She knew how precious ambergris was. That unremarkable stone was actually ambergris?

Yu Qingshan and Yu Mansheng were clueless: “What is it?”

Lu Anran: “A rare and expensive fragrance, worth as much as gold. That piece was quite sizable—it’s worth a lot. This is unexpected wealth.”

Worth as much as gold?

At the time, gold was about 80 yuan per gram. That stone weighed roughly 200 grams. 200 x 80 = 16,000 yuan.

Holy cow!

Yu Mansheng wanted to turn back: “Can we go back to that beach and see if there’s any more?”

Lu Anran patted his shoulder: “Even if it were right in front of you, would you recognize it? And even if you did, would there be a second piece? Don’t get your hopes up.”

Lin Yihong and Lin Yining stared at the stone as if trying to see flowers bloom from it.

They could do the math—this wasn’t just a stone; it was a small treasure!

Even Yu Qingshan wasn’t immune. He wanted to memorize its appearance so that next time he came to the beach, he might be lucky enough to find one.

This wasn’t just pocket change—if they were lucky enough to pick one up, it could buy them a house.

Chatting and laughing along the way, they arrived at Lu Anran’s newly opened photo studio. She introduced them: “This area is the backdrop wall, that’s the costume section—left for traditional Chinese outfits, right for foreign styles. The back is the makeup area, with different makeup artists and rooms. Just tell them what style you want, and if you’re unsure, they’ll recommend something based on the outfit and your personal features.”

It looked very professional. Yu Xiang’an spotted an extravagant Western-style princess dress and was instantly captivated. The dress must have cost a fortune, but it was truly stunning.

Lin Yining was also drawn to it. She asked the attendant, “Sister, do you have anything like this that would suit me? I want something similar.”

“Looking for matching mother-daughter outfits? We have those too. You both have great taste—this is second only to our studio’s signature piece.”

The dress was intricate and lavish. Yu Qingshan took a glance but didn’t dare get too close, afraid that if he accidentally snagged it, it would cost a fortune to repair.

They also saw the studio’s signature piece—a pristine wedding gown embroidered with pearls.

Lin Yining couldn’t take her eyes off it: “Are these pearls real?”

Lu Anran: “Yes, they are.”

Lin Yining: “Then this dress must be really expensive.”

Lu Anran smiled. A dress designed by a renowned designer naturally came with a high price tag.

Yu Qingshan was taken to try on an ancient general’s uniform, complete with realistic-looking armor.

With a wig and some makeup, he looked the part perfectly.

Lin Chuanbai wore a gray-and-white suit, exuding sophistication in every detail. When he put it on, Lin Yining gasped: “Dad, you look so handsome!”

It wasn’t that he wasn’t handsome before, but the difference was striking now. Clothes make the man, and Lin Yining was experiencing the truth of that saying firsthand.

She tugged at her father’s sleeve and cooed, “Dad, can you wear clothes like this more often? You look amazing.”

Lin Yihong nodded in agreement. “Dad, you look great. I want to wear something like this too.” He resembled his father, so he’d look just as good in it.

The corners of Lin Chuanbai’s lips twitched upward before he suppressed the smile. “Really?”

“Really,” Yu Xiang’an gave a thumbs-up. “Absolutely stunning. My heart’s racing—do you think I’d lie?”

Hearing this, Lin Chuanbai couldn’t hold back his smile anymore.

Yu Xiang’an: “Let’s take a few more shots. We can try other styles later.”

Since they were here, they might as well make the most of it.

Lin Chuanbai: “Alright. You go change. From now on, let’s take photos like this every few years.”

When Yu Xiang’an emerged in the princess dress, Lin Chuanbai’s eyes filled with awe.

He didn’t say anything, but his gaze never left her.

The studio’s official opening was the next day. Today, Lu Anran and Yu Mansheng had planned to have their own session, but with Lin Chuanbai and Yu Xiang’an joining, they managed just fine. By the time they finished, it was nearly dark.

Lin Chuanbai, Yu Qingshan, Yu Mansheng, and Lin Yihong had essentially become human mannequins by the end—doing whatever the women asked, too exhausted to think.

But the women, including the young Lin Yining, seemed to have endless energy for photos. They only stopped when hunger struck, by which point the men were utterly drained. The happiest one was little Cai Lan, who slept peacefully in her stroller the entire time.

Yu Mansheng was so tired he wished he could find a spot to nap too.

Too exhausted to be picky, they went to the nearest Sichuan restaurant. Nowadays, the special economic zone had all kinds of cuisines, and Sichuan food was plentiful. Known for its spiciness, the restaurant also offered non-spicy options to cater to local tastes.

This was mainly for Yu Qingshan, who couldn’t handle much spice. The others could manage mild or medium heat.

After dinner, Lin Chuanbai drove the twins back to Yangcheng. They had work and school the next day.

Time flew by, and soon it was 1986. Just after the New Year, Yu Xiangju and Yu Mingjie began their internships, which would determine their job placements after graduation.

Unless something unexpected happened, their internship locations would likely become their permanent workplaces.

Yu Xiangju was assigned to the Ministry of Water Resources, while Yu Mingjie went to a power plant.

Not long after Yu Xiangju received his first paycheck, Zhao Qiaoniang showed up.

During his four years of university, Zhao Qiaoniang had only visited twice—once to confirm he was at that school and once to ask about university life. Now, on her third visit, she said that since he had a stable job and was successful, he shouldn’t forget the mother who raised him.

She was getting older, alone and struggling, with only a daughter and no son to support her in her old age…

Zhao Qiaoniang didn’t outright ask for money, but her words implied it—and she did so at his workplace, where people came and went. If things escalated, it would be embarrassing.

By the time Lin Chuanbai heard about it from others, Yu Xiangju had already been giving her money for months. Lin Chuanbai was furious: “Why didn’t you come to me?”

He knew Zhao Qiaoniang still had a job and her daughter. Yu Xiangju had just started working—how much could he possibly have? If she came every month, she was treating him like an ATM.

She was counting on Yu Xiangju’s soft heart to keep supporting her.

Yu Xiangju sighed. “Brother-in-law, I once said that if she had no one to care for her in old age, I’d take responsibility. But she’s still working in the special zone, and the money she’s taking is going to her daughter and grandson. If this continues, I’d be funding her daughter’s family with my own money. I can’t do that—it’s disgusting. Brother-in-law, I’m not a child anymore. I’ve already spoken to my teacher. I want to transfer somewhere else.”

Since his official assignment hadn’t been finalized yet, he could still express his preference, and the higher-ups would consider it.

Those who stayed were usually the top performers. If Yu Xiangju was willing to go somewhere more remote, it wouldn’t be a problem.

Lin Chuanbai listened and nodded. “You’ve grown up. But think carefully—you’ll be far from home, and life won’t be as convenient. And you should talk to Dad about it.”

Yu Xiangju: “I will. He won’t object. He once told me that if I stayed close and earned money, she might keep coming. But if I go far away, she won’t know where I am, and I can avoid her. Just keep an eye on her for me. If anything happens, let me know.”

“Alright.”

Lin Chuanbai agreed.

When the internship ended, Yu Mingjie settled at the Yangcheng power plant, securing a stable position with good benefits. Yu Xiangju was assigned to Wangcheng in a neighboring province—not too remote. As soon as the assignment came through, he packed up and left.

Lin Chuanbai helped him move. Some things couldn’t be taken along, so they were left at Lin Chuanbai’s place for later handling.

He left quietly.

When Zhao Qiaoniang came looking for “support” again, she found he was no longer working there.

The gatekeeper said sternly, “The comrade you’re asking about has been transferred.”

Zhao Qiaoniang: “Where was he transferred to?”

The gatekeeper waved her off. “How should I know? Graduates go wherever they’re assigned.”

Zhao Qiaoniang didn’t believe it. “Wasn’t he assigned here?”

“That was just the internship. Nothing’s finalized.”

She went to the school to ask but couldn’t get in and didn’t know whom to approach. Finally, she stopped someone who looked like a teacher, but the response was: “No comment.”

She couldn’t find him.

Ding Minxiu had accompanied her both times but stayed out of sight before. As Zhao Qiaoniang walked away dejected, Ding Minxiu sneered, “I told you his family is heartless. After all you did for him, he just up and left without a word. They must’ve planned this—keeping his new location a secret. All your kindness was wasted. You’d have been better off being nice to a stray dog—at least it would wag its tail at you.”

Zhao Qiaoniang looked lost, then nodded firmly. “It must’ve been his father’s decision. Xiangju isn’t that cold-hearted. His father can’t stand to see us doing well.”

Ding Minxiu calmed down a bit. “It’s fine. Even if he’s gone now, there are other ways to find him. He’ll go back to his hometown eventually.”

They hadn’t planned to approach Yu Xiangju so soon after his internship, but they had no choice. Zhou Tianyou had gotten his classmate pregnant, and during an argument with her brother, a fight broke out, resulting in the brother’s leg being broken. The situation escalated, and the girl’s family demanded hefty compensation and an exorbitant betrothal gift for an immediate marriage—otherwise, they’d press charges. If they did, Zhou Tianyou would go to jail.

What could they do?

Zhou Tianyou was the family’s only son.

The compensation and betrothal gift were calculated based on their income, but they hadn’t accounted for expenses.

The family didn’t have that kind of money, but the other side refused to back down.

They had no choice but to borrow from relatives and friends.

Coincidentally, Yu Xiangju had just started working and had money, so they came looking for help.

When Ding Minxiu thought about it, she felt utterly drained. Her son had actually taken the same path they had back then, and Fang Rong kept muttering at home that it was retribution.

Ding Minxiu couldn’t say anything about the things her mother-in-law had said. To keep the woman satisfied, Fang Rong had even retired early to give his job to their son, letting him take over while she stayed home to do the chores and take care of the pregnant daughter-in-law.

Their savings had already been wiped out by the compensation, and now with the new daughter-in-law in the house—pregnant and extremely picky—demanding this and that every day, using her pregnancy as leverage, they had no choice but to indulge her.

At this rate, even a mountain of gold and silver would be drained, let alone their family, which had no such fortune—only debts.

They had initially thought that Yu Xiangju’s monthly subsidies would be enough to cover things, but now that he had run away, how could they possibly satisfy the new daughter-in-law’s demands?

Ding Minxiu returned to the special economic zone with a grim expression. Seeing her face, Zhou Changshou immediately understood.

Things hadn’t gone well today. He knew what they had gone to do—he just pretended not to.

Before he could even try to probe indirectly, Ding Minxiu walked in, took a sip of water, and sneered, “After my mother raised him for so long, feeding and cleaning him, he turns out to be an ungrateful wretch. Just because we asked him for support a few times, he transferred away without telling us where—afraid we’d ask for money again. Mom, when you go back, you should tell the neighbors all about it. A college student with such poor character—does he even deserve it?”

Zhao Qiangniang frowned. “Enough, stop talking.” She didn’t like hearing this. She had treated Yu Xiangju well in the past, thinking she could rely on him for support in her old age. But before that, the Yu family hadn’t treated her and her daughter badly either—they had shared food and shelter. If word got out, she wasn’t sure how many people would side with them. If her daughter and grandson’s affairs were dragged into it, there’d be more trouble. Right now, they just needed to wait for the baby to be born safely. Life would slowly get better—it was just a difficult period.

Ding Minxiu wasn’t unaware of this. She only talked about it at home—outside, she never mentioned the Yu family at all.

—

Yu Xianghai and Ye Qijia were happy about Yu Mingjie’s job assignment, but they were also a little worried.

The job was there, so he’d likely marry and settle down there too. Guangzhou was definitely better than their small county—people move upward, water flows downward—so they couldn’t ask him to come back. But they really didn’t want to let him go.

This wasn’t the same as him studying there. Back then, they didn’t know if he’d settle down there. But now that he had a job assignment, the chances of him being transferred elsewhere were slim.

Right now, they were in Baishi County with their younger son and daughter, who would soon take the college entrance exams, go to university, and start working. What would happen to them then?

Would they just stay in their hometown while their sons flew high and far? That would be too stifling—they wouldn’t even get to hold their grandchildren, only looking at photos and reminiscing.

After visiting Guangzhou, Yu Xianghai and Ye Qijia returned and couldn’t stop praising their eldest son’s job to everyone. Those who heard it could only envy them:

“I always said that boy was smart—so sharp.”

“Yeah, he’s been a top student since he was little.”

“You two are set for life now.”

The praise made them even more elated—but also more determined about their future plans.

Now, they just needed to support their younger children through their education and see where they ended up. Yu Xianghai had his job, and Ye Qijia’s stall was thriving. They were planning to build a new house—not two at once, since if the kids didn’t return, one would be enough.

Ye Qijia said, “Once I’ve saved enough and settled all these matters, I’ll follow my sons wherever they go. I’ll help take care of their children. By then, they’ll have salaries, I’ll have my pension, and the interest will cover our daily expenses.”

Just thinking about it made her happy.

Now that he had graduated, the next thing to ask was—when would he start thinking about marriage?

—

Yu Xiang’an was currently busy with “Meiyan.” Last year, the factory construction began, certifications were obtained, and patents were filed. This year, the factory was completed, and recruitment and production followed.

This product wasn’t like food—it was expensive, and the market wasn’t as vast. People ate three meals a day, but skincare products were used in limited amounts.

Still, even with limited quantities, production didn’t slow down, and profits came in fast.

Especially after they hired a popular Hong Kong celebrity as their spokesperson—orders flew in like snowflakes.

At a time when advertisements were rare, the effect was astonishing. Overnight, they went from obscurity to a well-known brand.

When Liu Mingyue in the capital saw the ad, she immediately called: “Wow, your business is on TV now! What’s our relationship? If you don’t give me a 20% discount, I won’t let this go.”

Yu Xiang’an laughed. “You said it yourself—what’s our relationship? Go to the second floor of the food plaza, mention your name, and get a 40% discount. That’s the authorized dealer in the capital.”

They couldn’t cover the entire market at once, so they set up authorized dealers in other cities. Interested parties could register, pay a deposit or franchise fee, and then open their own counters or stores to sell the products.

She had expanded so aggressively because the certification results were excellent.

And how did they get the celebrity to agree to endorse it? Besides the certification, there was also a high-quality ginseng—something rare and valuable, which the celebrity needed.

Now, the factory was running at full capacity, shipping products nationwide by train.

The phone number on the advertisement rang nonstop every day. Yu Xiang’an happily said to Lin Chuanbai, “At this rate, your lab will be set up soon. Happy?”

Happy? Of course he was.

He was increasingly motivated to develop more skincare products—this way, he could buy the lab equipment he wanted even faster.

Yu Xiang’an also sent gift sets to relatives, friends, and business partners—as long as there were women in their households, it was a suitable gift.

She naturally didn’t forget her sisters-in-law and sisters, sending them sets as well. Then, she received a call from Yu Xiangqing. At first, she thought it was about the package, but no—it was about something else. Yu Xiangqing was crying as she spoke.

Her third brother-in-law, Yan Peng, was from a neighboring province. After college and job assignments, they had settled there. They didn’t return every year, so they didn’t see each other often, but they kept in touch.

What she was talking about was their third sister’s story.

Haiyan Heqing, Anju (Leye).

Before Yu Xiangyan and Yu Xiangqing, there had been a third sister, Yu Xianghe, who had died of illness a year after being sent to the countryside.

Back then, Yu Qingshan and their uncle Qin Fengmao had gone to retrieve her body. It had been over ten years now.

None of the siblings had seen her last moments. Because she had died of illness—and the local doctor suspected tuberculosis—they had cremated her and brought her ashes back to be buried in the village.

Now, Yu Xiangqing had met a female educated youth who had been sent to the same village as their third sister. The three sisters looked somewhat alike, and Yu Xiangqing resembled Yu Xianghe the most. When the woman saw Yu Xiangqing, she mistook her for Yu Xianghe and panicked, thinking it was her vengeful ghost. In her fright, she blurted out things she shouldn’t have.

Yu Xiangqing sobbed: “She said, ‘Don’t come after me, it wasn’t my fault! I just didn’t help you—at most, I stood by and did nothing. You know we couldn’t help you. I’m not the murderer—the guilty one is someone else! Don’t come after me!’”

The information in those words was shocking.

When Yu Xiangqing heard it, she felt like her soul had left her body. She forced herself to stay calm and pressed the woman for answers while she was still frightened. She learned that Miao Hongxing had been sent to the same production team as Yu Xianghe and had lived in the same educated youth dormitory.

The three sisters were all good-looking, and Yu Xianghe had caught the eye of the village party secretary’s son.

She refused him, so he made life difficult for her—assigning her the hardest, dirtiest work and forbidding others from helping, trying to break her will so he could have his way. But with Yu Qingshan’s occasional subsidies and her own stubbornness, she held out.

But she was a woman, and it was his territory. If he wanted to force the issue, there were plenty of opportunities.

Miao Hongxing, realizing this was a real person, didn’t want to say more. Yu Xiangqing dragged her to the police station, threatening to accuse her of murder, which scared her into revealing what she knew.

Her poor mental fortitude was a blessing—otherwise, they might never have learned the truth about their third sister’s death.

Yu Xianghe had been raped, then fell ill and lay in bed for over a month. During that time, the village party secretary’s son came to propose. She refused, so no one treated her illness. She wasted away until she died.

Yu Xiangqing couldn’t believe their father and uncle hadn’t noticed anything back then.

Wouldn’t Miao Hongxing’s nervousness have given her away?

Miao Hongxing explained that all the educated youth who had lived with Yu Xianghe had been transferred away. New, uninformed youths were deliberately sent to replace them. The village doctor was the party secretary’s relative, and most villagers didn’t know either—only the female educated youth in the dormitory knew.

By the time Yu Qingshan and Qin Fengmao arrived, Yu Xianghe was already gone. After lying in bed for so long, there were no visible traces. If not for the others occasionally feeding her, she wouldn’t have lasted that long.

With nothing to see and being men, they had been completely deceived.

Yu Xiangqing broke down crying as she spoke. Yu Xiang’an listened silently, her face dark. She knew many female educated youths had suffered during that era, but she hadn’t expected the Yu family to have a victim too.

If not for this coincidence, they might never have learned the truth.

This couldn’t be left unresolved.

“Is Miao Hongxing still with you?” Yu Xiang’an asked. “Get as much information as you can, see if there’s any evidence, and bring her back. We’re going to demand justice.”