Chapter 55:

Li Yujiao watched their retreating figures, standing in place for a long time before slowly reentering and sitting on a stool, staring blankly in Lin Houpu’s direction.

There were so many people.

Aside from her father-in-law, there were his sons, daughters-in-law, grandsons, granddaughters, daughters, sons-in-law, and grandnephews—seven in total. Including the eldest son’s family, who arrived a bit later, there were over ten people.

“Old Lin, Old Lin,” she thought, “if you don’t pull through, what will happen to us? Our son is still so young.”

They were too weak on their own.

Exhausted, Li Yujiao closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, temporarily easing her tense nerves.

Then she glanced at the two young men by the door. Normally, this wouldn’t be necessary, but the situation was far from ordinary.

They were there to prevent anyone from harming him—Old Lin had no strength left to defend himself.

If he pulled through, his future would be brighter because of this incident.

That was what she had once hoped for. But now, she didn’t care about his future prospects. She just wanted him to live, healthy and well.

Lin Duzhong and the others took their belongings to a guesthouse near the hospital. Arrangements had been made in advance, and after a quick check of their documents, they were given keys.

Lin Chuanbai’s family was assigned a large room, enough for two adults and two children.

The two children had been silent since getting off the car, obediently staying quiet in this unfamiliar environment.

Once in the room, Yu Xiang’an bathed the children and then herself.

After a simple meal of plain congee and two hours of rest in bed, she finally regained some energy.

Sleeping in a bed was entirely different from sleeping in a car.

Yu Xiang’an decided that unless absolutely necessary, she didn’t want to travel around anymore—especially with two young children. There was always something to worry about.

Two children were enough. Raising them well would be an achievement in itself.

When they weren’t worrying her, it seemed like they grew up effortlessly. But when she did worry, there was no end to it.

After changing clothes and resting, everyone looked much better. They carried the important items with them and left the rest in the guesthouse before returning to the hospital.

A man in his thirties stood at the door of the ward. When he saw them, he greeted them and introduced himself as Chen Jinde, Lin Houpu’s assistant. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

Lin Duzhong asked, “Is he awake yet?”

“Not yet, but he should be soon.”

They took turns entering the ward. Lin Houpu looked the same as he had that morning, with no visible changes. The two nurses remained by his side.

Thankfully, they were there. When Lin Houpu’s condition had suddenly worsened earlier, they had managed to pull him back from the brink of death.

“Is there a quiet place where we can talk?” Lin Duzhong asked.

The nurse pointed ahead. “There’s a room around the corner. You can go there.”

The third floor was reserved for patients with severe conditions who had the means to receive treatment there, so a lounge was provided for waiting families.

It was the perfect place for their conversation.

Once the family was seated, Lin Duzhong looked at Li Yujiao. “Eldest daughter-in-law, now you can tell us what happened. When you called, you mentioned an accident. Explain in detail.”

Li Yujiao sighed bitterly. “I only found out afterward. I was at work as usual when someone came to tell me he’d been injured and was in the hospital. By the time I arrived, he was already in surgery. Later, I heard that he was in a meeting with provincial leaders when an assassination attempt occurred. The attacker had a gun. Old Lin, being quick on his feet, shielded others but was shot in the process. Two guards were also injured—one in the leg, the other in the shoulder—but neither was life-threatening. Old Lin was the most severely hurt. Because this involved high-ranking officials, it was kept quiet to avoid public panic.”

“Normally, Old Lin’s rank wouldn’t warrant this level of attention, but the leaders personally intervened, even bringing in renowned doctors to save his life. As for why this happened, I don’t know.”

Her ignorance was understandable. Lin Duzhong nodded. He had just taken Lin Houpu’s pulse—it was still weak but stabilizing. He allowed himself a sliver of optimism.

If Lin Houpu had survived the worst, there was no reason he wouldn’t pull through now.

“What about Tiandong?” Lin Duzhong asked about his youngest grandson.

At the mention of her son, Li Yujiao’s expression softened. “He’s staying with someone from the factory for now.”

“Is the doctor available? Can we speak with him?”

Despite the divide between traditional and Western medicine, many principles overlapped.

Li Yujiao stood up. “I’m not sure if he’s free now, but I’ll take you to him.”

Dr. Zhao, who had been specially summoned, was busy. He wasn’t just responsible for Lin Houpu but also other patients.

Much of what he said went over Yu Xiang’an’s head, but Lin Duzhong, Lin Yunling, and Lin Chuanbai listened intently.

In short, Lin Houpu was still in danger, but his condition had improved. If this continued, he would survive.

Lin Guangbai arrived shortly after them, just as Lin Houpu regained consciousness.

Still unable to speak, Lin Houpu managed a faint smile at the sight of his family before being fed some liquid food and drifting back to sleep.

With everyone present, even if only briefly, it was clear Lin Houpu was comforted by their presence.

Lin Guangbai looked travel-worn. Lin Duzhong, who hadn’t seen his eldest grandson in a long time, took him back to the guesthouse to freshen up, causing another flurry of activity.

Lin Yunling stayed behind at the hospital with Fu Heqi, relieving Li Yujiao so she could rest. Now that they were here, they could take turns keeping watch. Lin Yunling also needed to care for Lin Tiandong.

Though their presence didn’t directly aid Lin Houpu’s recovery—that was Dr. Zhao’s job—having family nearby brought some peace of mind.

Yuanyuan returned with Yu Xiang’an.

While Lin Guangbai’s family cleaned up, Yu Xiang’an borrowed the guesthouse kitchen to cook. Lin Chuanbai went out and returned with groceries and pancakes.

“There’s a supply and marketing cooperative nearby. It’s well-stocked.”

They had exchanged for national ration coupons before coming.

“Would you like congee or noodles for dinner?” Yu Xiang’an asked the children.

Too young to fully grasp the severity of the situation, they clung to their parents in unfamiliar surroundings. If either parent was out of sight, they grew anxious. When asked, they simply nodded, saying either was fine.

Lin Chuanbai suggested, “Let’s have congee. I bought pancakes—they go well with it.”

“Alright.”

At dinner, the family gathered, finally able to relax and reconnect.

Lin Guangbai resembled Lin Chuanbai but wasn’t identical. As Lin Duzhong put it, Lin Guangbai took after his mother, while Lin Chuanbai was a blend of both parents, with some traits from his grandmother.

Lin Guangbai had brought his son, around Yuanyuan’s age. His infant daughter, less than a year old, had been left with her maternal grandparents.

This trip was both a visit and a family reunion. None of the spouses had met in person before—only through photos. Even among siblings, years apart had created some distance. But blood ties and frequent letters quickly bridged the gap.

Yu Xiang’an’s first impression of her sister-in-law, Yun Jing, was of a capable woman with a neat bob, exuding efficiency. She also worked in government, though in a different department.

Yun Jing, in turn, found Yu Xiang’an warm and friendly—and an excellent cook. The praise in their letters hadn’t been exaggerated.

A simple pot of congee somehow kept everyone coming back for more.

True skill lay in mastering the basics.

After dinner, Lin Chuanbai volunteered for hospital duty. “I’ll stay tonight. The rest of you should rest. I’ll bring food for Sister. Brother, since you just arrived, take tonight off. We rested at noon. Xiang’an, stay with the kids. Grandpa, you shouldn’t stay up late.”

Lin Guangbai agreed. “I’ll rest tonight and take over tomorrow.”

Though nurses were present, having family there ensured they’d be informed immediately if anything changed.

Lin Yunling, having eaten at the hospital, refused to leave. She insisted on staying with Lin Chuanbai—if anything happened, one could keep watch while the other alerted the family. Fu Heqi was sent back to put the children to bed.

That night, Yu Xiang’an slept alone with the kids. Unsettled by the new environment and their father’s absence, they fought sleep, asking for him repeatedly.

“Sleep now. Daddy’s staying at the hospital tonight. You’ll see him tomorrow.”

“Why isn’t Daddy coming back?”

“He’s watching over Grandpa. Grandpa is very sick.”

“Will he be back tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow.”

Reassured, they fell asleep almost instantly.

In the following days, they took turns keeping vigil at the hospital. Numerous visitors came, most turned away at the door.

Yu Xiang’an never stayed overnight—she had the children—but she prepared all three daily meals.

Then, after several days, came good news: Lin Houpu’s life was out of danger.

As Dr. Zhao had predicted, his condition had stabilized. He was now awake for longer periods. With continued rest, he would gradually recover.

Still, the ordeal had taken its toll. Even after recovery, he’d be weaker than before. But survival alone was a blessing.

Once he regained consciousness, the officials he’d protected came to thank him. Yu Xiang’an, prepared, wasn’t surprised to hear titles like “Secretary So-and-so” or “Director Such-and-such.”

Lin Houpu had saved their lives. Their visit was the least they could do. They also brought gifts, refusing to take no for an answer.

Representatives from the machinery factory—deputy directors, production managers—also came.

Yu Xiang’an thought, “This father-in-law of mine is impressive.”

Their concern seemed genuine. Most sincerely wished for his swift recovery.

He even began handling urgent matters with Assistant Chen’s help, though his time was strictly limited.

His health came first.

Once awake, Lin Guangbai and Lin Chuanbai took turns assisting him. His large frame made it difficult for the women to help him to the bathroom.

The crisis temporarily erased past tensions between father and sons.

Lin Guangbai was articulate and sociable, effortlessly engaging visitors. Lin Chuanbai, quieter, faded into the background unless his brother was absent, when he stepped up seamlessly.

Lin Houpu observed their differences. While Lin Guangbai’s future required no intervention, Lin Chuanbai’s unassuming nature concerned him—still an ordinary county hospital employee.

One night, during Lin Chuanbai’s shift, Lin Houpu dismissed the nurse and closed the door.

“Would you consider working here?” he asked. “It’s not our hometown, but it’s the provincial capital. As a factory director, I could help arrange things. If you’re willing, the whole family could move. Your jobs—I wouldn’t hand them to you, but given your skills, passing the necessary exams shouldn’t be a problem.”

Lin Chuanbai was taken aback. “What about Grandpa?”

“I’ll persuade him to stay too.”

Lin Chuanbai fell silent.

Previously, Lin Duzhong had wanted to retire peacefully at home. But now, with Lin Houpu’s health at stake, staying was a real possibility.

As for himself—should he stay?

“I won’t say much about your sister—she’s in the city, and your brother-in-law’s family is also based there, so it’s unlikely. But you’re different. If you stay, you could take the exam for the machinery factory. The factory has its own clinic, and your wife is a high school graduate with real ability. She could easily pass the factory’s exam too. If the machinery factory doesn’t work out, there are other factories. You mentioned before that you didn’t want to go to university, but if you’ve changed your mind and think further education would be better now, I can try to secure a spot for you.” Lin Houpu genuinely wanted him to stay. Before, he wouldn’t have dared to promise a spot at a worker-peasant-soldier university, but now it was different—those higher-ups owed him favors, and securing a spot would be simple.

“I need to think it over carefully. As for university, forget it.” Lin Chuanbai didn’t outright reject the idea of living here.

Lin Houpu nodded. “Alright, no rush.”

Both of them had stable jobs, and changing positions wasn’t a decision to be made lightly.

But he had his own considerations. After this incident, if he were to die just like that, he’d feel too much regret. He had so many children, yet only his youngest son was by his side—and he was still so small. If anything were to happen to him, the assets he’d fought so hard for would be beyond the boy’s ability to manage.

The most suitable heir was his eldest son, both in terms of experience and temperament. But his eldest had taken a different path—he was in Shanghai, with his in-laws helping plan his future. His prospects wouldn’t be bad.

The second son was different. They were brothers, and right now, he and his elder brother got along well. But what if the gap between them grew too wide in the future? Would their bond remain strong?

If he had the means, he naturally wanted to give his second son a leg up.

Back in their hometown, it was too far—beyond his reach. But here, it was different.

He had that confidence.

After returning, Lin Chuanbai brought up the matter with Yu Xiang’an. The two exchanged glances, and Yu Xiang’an asked, “What do you think?”

“There are pros and cons. What about you? If we move here, would you be willing to leave your family behind?” He had no reservations on that front.

Yu Xiang’an thought of the Yu family and blinked. “I do have feelings for them, but wasn’t separation always inevitable?”

Being close didn’t mean they had to stay together forever.

She had plans—to take the college entrance exam, start a business, open a restaurant. She couldn’t be confined to their small hometown.

“Then let’s weigh the pros and cons and decide together?”

“Alright.”

The advantages of moving here were clear: this was the provincial capital, far more developed than their small county, with abundant resources. Plus, it was close to the capital—just two or three hours away. And now, in the autumn of 1975, being here meant access to more information. There was also a university here. While they couldn’t enroll through the college entrance exam yet, they could be recommended. The university had a library and faculty. They hadn’t completely abandoned their studies in preparation for the exam, but they weren’t exactly experts either.

In their world, the Cultural Revolution would end in 1976. Even if this parallel world had some temporal differences, the deviation wouldn’t be too great—it might end earlier or later. Once it did, the college entrance exam would be reinstated. Both of them wanted to take it, and they already had their target schools: Lin Chuanbai aimed for Capital Medical University, while Yu Xiang’an wanted to attend Tsinghua University.

They had a significant advantage. They’d never stopped studying over the years and had been self-studying since the beginning of the year. By the time the exam was restored, as long as nothing went wrong, they’d be well-prepared and could achieve excellent scores. Even if they didn’t get into their top choices, they wouldn’t fall far short.

Beyond grades, their family backgrounds were also unproblematic—they wouldn’t be screened out during political vetting.

The downside was leaving their hometown, putting familiar faces far out of reach, making visits rare. Plus, they’d have to resolve their current jobs—both were on extended leave.

After careful consideration, they were genuinely tempted.

And they didn’t want Lin Houpu to pull strings to arrange jobs for them—they weren’t keen on owing him favors.

Even though he was Lin Chuanbai’s biological father, still…

They could take the simplest route: they had money. They could buy a run-down house here that came with residency rights, obtain local household registration, and then take the exams—that would silence any critics.

For now, jobs were necessary. In the two years before the exam’s restoration, they’d need work to provide legitimate income and support their household.

Over the past three years, they’d both been cautious. When together, they avoided entering the space, but when Lin Chuanbai was at the hospital and Yu Xiang’an at the food factory, they’d find opportunities to manage things inside.

Yu Xiang’an’s warehouse seemed limitless in storage capacity, with excellent preservation. She kept many things there, then sold some off during business trips to the city. The money and goods were all stored in her farm.

If they needed something—apples, ducks, beef, lamb—she’d make a trip to the black market, claiming she’d bought them from someone else. To avoid suspicion, she’d even arrange for others to “wholesale” some of the goods, ensuring she wasn’t the only one with access.

Their combined salaries, plus Lin Chuanbai’s knowledge of her side income from selling sauces, lipsticks, and tinted moisturizers, mostly went toward food. Their household meals were so lavish that others would be shocked if they knew.

Lin Chuanbai had no objections—they had the means. And before having children, they’d set aside emergency savings, so they could always produce funds if needed.

Unlike Yu Xiang’an, who had frequent business trips, he had his own reasons to visit the city—to see Lin Yunling or his nephew. If he needed money or wanted to buy certain herbs, he’d sell a couple of ginseng roots from the space.

His ginseng was quite valuable now—the oldest was fifty years old—though he never sold anything over thirty.

It was more than enough for his needs.

So, apart from their pre-marriage savings, their visible income was mostly spent on food and daily expenses. Now, if they wanted to buy a house in Qincheng, they’d need at least a few hundred yuan.

Both realized the same problem: how to explain where the money came from?

Lin Chuanbai: “Remember the ginseng I sold you before? I actually kept two more—both fifty years old. We’ll keep one and sell the other. Plus, back when I was a middleman, some people paid me in gold instead of cash. I buried it somewhere to avoid trouble. We can dig it up, and that should cover the house.”

Yu Xiang’an: “I’ve got some money too—from side jobs, helping people make things. Once, at a city recycling station, I even stumbled upon some gold and jade. I buried those as well. With my share, we’ll have no problem settling here.” She had a few thousand yuan stashed in her farm.

They exchanged glances, both slightly awkward, then quickly moved past the topic, neither wanting to dig deeper and risk more lies.

Lin Chuanbai: “So, it’s settled? We’ll quit our jobs, move here?”

“Right. I’ll sell my factory housing too—if I’m not at the food factory anymore, keeping it would invite trouble. People have asked before if I wanted to sell. That’ll be extra cash.”

“We’ll seal up our current place for now, deal with it later.”

“Yeah. My dad and the others can check on it occasionally, keep it maintained.”

As expected, after Lin Houpu’s persuasion, Lin Duzhong agreed to stay for a while.

He wasn’t fully recovered yet—going back wouldn’t be wise.

When Lin Chuanbai added that they’d also decided to stay, Lin Houpu was even happier.

Lin Duzhong couldn’t argue—clearly, staying here would mean better prospects for his second grandson. Standing in the way would be holding him back.

Lin Chuanbai: “Here’s our plan: find a suitable house here, buy it, transfer our residency, then look for jobs.”

Lin Houpu: “You could just move in with me.”

His assigned place had three rooms—with some adjustments, they could make it four.

Lin Chuanbai: “The kids will grow fast—it’ll get too cramped. Grandpa moving in now is fine, but soon, the kids will need their own space.”

Living together wasn’t ideal.

“The house doesn’t need to be big—just enough. The money we have should cover it.”

It was just temporary.

Lin Houpu: “…Alright. I’ll have Xiao Chen check for available houses.”

Housing was tight everywhere—few were selling.

This was where local connections mattered.