Chapter 9:

Yu Xiang’an held Yu Xiangju’s hand with one hand and Yu Mingjie’s with the other as they headed to the fields to find their grandmother. The sun outside was scorching, so before leaving, all three of them put on straw hats.

The two mischievous boys didn’t want to wear them, but Yu Xiang’an insisted—UV rays were harmful to the skin and could accelerate aging, so it was best to avoid them whenever possible.

Not long after stepping outside, other children spotted them and came over.

Although their family didn’t live here, many people recognized them. After all, those with secure jobs in the production brigade could be counted on one hand, and their family was often the center of gossip during idle moments.

As Yu Xiang’an chatted with others, she carefully observed the rural landscape.

This place was worlds apart from the countryside of the 21st century. There were no wide, smooth cement roads or sturdy cement houses—even brick-and-tile homes were rare. Most families lived in mud-brick houses built with yellow clay, and few roofs were fully tiled; most were a mix of tiles and straw.

Additionally, every household had a courtyard and a small private plot.

The private plots were lush, mostly planted with sweet potatoes for sustenance, while the edges grew beans and pumpkins.

Yu Xiang’an compared the crops along the roadside with the memories of the original owner. Having grown up in the city, she wasn’t familiar with many crops, especially since their appearance in the fields often differed greatly from when they were prepared in the kitchen.

The paddy fields grew rice, while the dry fields were planted with sweet potatoes, peanuts, and soybeans—mostly high-yield sweet potatoes, a sign that the brigade leader here was pragmatic.

At this time, farming followed the brigade leader’s plans. If someone were too eager for quick results, even in a good year, people might still go hungry.

The current brigade leader of the Red Star Production Brigade was Yu Xiang’an’s uncle—her grandfather’s eldest son. He was shrewd and capable, avoiding flashy but impractical crops just to earn praise from the commune.

“Isn’t this the daughter of Yu Changyou’s second son? I remember you—your name’s Xiao An, right? You’re back?”

“Where are you headed?”

“Looking for your grandma? She’s weeding at Ox Tail Gully today. Do you know the way?”

“Go straight, turn right at the second intersection, then right again at the next one.”

Everyone they met was warm and friendly, calling out greetings from afar.

No wonder Yu Changyou hadn’t worried about them getting lost.

When they reached Ox Tail Gully, Zhang Chahua was squatting with other elderly women, pulling weeds.

The work was light, but it earned few work points, so it was usually assigned to the elderly, older children, or female educated youths who struggled with heavier farm tasks. However, some couldn’t distinguish crops from weeds and ended up pulling both. When they arrived, a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl was being scolded by the elderly women:

“You’ve been here long enough—how can you still pull up the bean sprouts? Can’t you tell the difference? If this keeps up, what harvest will we have? Are you even here to work, or just to sabotage things?”

The girl’s eyes reddened, and she hung her head in silence.

She looked pitiful, but none of the elderly women showed sympathy.

She’d been here nearly a year and still made such basic mistakes—how could they not be angry?

When Zhang Chahua spotted the three of them, her eyes lit up, wishing she had an extra hand to pull them all close for a good look.

For Yu Xiang’an, this was the first time meeting her, yet not—the original owner’s memories of this grandmother were vivid, and she felt an instant familiarity.

She called out cheerfully, “Grandma!”

Yu Xiangju followed, “Grandma!”

Yu Mingjie echoed, “Grandma.”

His misaddress made Zhang Chahua laugh as she patted his head. “Oh, sweetie, you forgot—you should call me Great-Grandma.”

Realizing his mistake, Yu Mingjie blushed and hid behind Yu Xiang’an in embarrassment.

Zhang Chahua chuckled. “When did you set out today? Are you hungry? Have you seen your grandpa? He should be at home.”

Yu Xiang’an replied, “We had breakfast and saw Grandpa.”

Zhang Chahua fetched her bamboo water flask from the shade and told the others, “My second son’s family is back. I’ll go see them and return soon.”

The others watched enviously, waving her off. “Go ahead, we’ll finish up here. It’s rare for your son to visit—take the morning off.”

Under normal circumstances, as long as things weren’t taken too far, the work-point recorder wouldn’t dock their points. For special cases like this, no one would make a fuss.

Zhang Chahua didn’t stand on ceremony. “Alright, I owe you one.” Then she happily led the children away. “Later, I’ll cook eggs for you. Do you want fried eggs or egg drop soup?”

Yu Xiangju and Yu Mingjie answered in unison, “Both!”

Zhang Chahua laughed. “Fine, we’ll have both today…”

They walked off, leaving the elderly women and the female educated youth staring after them with envy.

It had been a long time since they’d eaten eggs. Though they raised chickens at home, they couldn’t afford to eat them—they were saved for trading or selling. Unlike Zhang Chahua, who was blessed with two sons—one staying nearby and the other holding a secure job in town. When her husband fell seriously ill recently, the commune clinic couldn’t help, but thanks to her son in town, he was treated at the county hospital. Who knew how much it cost? For others, such an expense would be impossible, leaving them to slowly await death at home.

The female educated youth was also envious. Having been here nearly a year, she knew all about the brigade’s notable figures, including this family.

How nice—fair-skinned and carefree. Before being sent down, she’d been the same.

When could she return? Without her family’s support, she wouldn’t have survived this long.

Zhang Chahua, meanwhile, wasn’t thinking about their reactions. She was planning lunch.

Eggs were a must. There were also two grass carp, nearly a pound each, that her grandson had caught—one could make a delicious fish soup with wild mushrooms and bamboo shoots.

There was still some New Year’s cured meat left—she’d slice a bit and add other ingredients for another dish…

When she returned and saw her husband’s expression, she sensed something was wrong. After sending the children out to play, she asked what had happened.

Upon hearing the news, Zhang Chahua felt a lump in her chest. The only consolation was that her granddaughter now had a secure job—though that was only fair compensation, since the job was originally promised to her upon marriage. Still, gossip was vicious. Future suitors would inevitably hear about this scandal, potentially limiting her options.

She seethed but couldn’t make a scene—it would hurt her granddaughter’s prospects. Rationally, she knew her son’s approach was right: securing the job was a safety net. Emotionally, though, she couldn’t swallow her anger.

Pacing the room, she wished she could sneak out and beat the scoundrel with a sack.

Knowing her temper, Yu Changyou had Yu Qingshan pour her water to calm her.

After drinking, Zhang Chahua cooled slightly and asked Yu Qingshan, “Are you sure your wife had no part in this? She didn’t conspire with her daughter to send Xiao An to the countryside so her daughter could take her place—gaining both reputation and benefits?”

Yu Xianghai nodded. “Grandma, it’s true. I saw her reaction clearly.”

Zhang Chahua relaxed a little. “That Ding woman is never setting foot in this house again. Remember that, Second Son—don’t let pillow talk make you forget your daughter’s suffering.”

Yu Qingshan sighed. “Mom, I’ve already made it clear. She’s my own flesh and blood—I’ll always stand by her.”

Zhang Chahua snorted, still furious. She went to the kitchen, sent her granddaughter-in-law Ye Qijia out to pick vegetables, then turned on Zhao Qiaoniang.

“This is the fine daughter you brought into our family? Did we ever mistreat her? How dare she pull such a shameless stunt? She ate our food, drank our water, yet schemed against us. When she arrived, she was skin and bones—every ounce of flesh on her now came from my son’s hard work. How could she be so heartless?”

Had Ding Minxiu been present, Zhang Chahua would’ve slapped her. With her gone, she vented at her mother instead.

Zhao Qiaoniang couldn’t lift her head, tears streaming down.

Zhang Chahua scoffed. “You dare cry? This is the daughter you raised—stealing her sister’s man! Disgusting! Mark my words: she’s never stepping into the Yu family again! Or was this your plan all along—to replace Xiao An and live the good life?”

Zhao Qiaoniang shook her head desperately, choked with bitterness.

She truly hadn’t known. Minxiu had never breathed a word. This betrayal shattered her heart. Her daughter hadn’t considered her at all—she’d secured her own future by marrying into the Zhou family. If she bore a son, given the Zhou family’s three-generation single-line inheritance, they’d tolerate her despite the scandal. But what about her mother? Unable to remarry, driven back to her parents’ home only to find no refuge after their deaths, she’d finally found peace with the Yu family—now ruined by this disaster.

She raised her hand in oath. “If I had any part in this, may lightning strike me dead!”

Seeing her swear, Zhang Chahua inwardly nodded but kept her stern face. “Fine, I’ll believe you for now. But if she ever comes begging for help, what will you do?”

She narrowed her eyes. “If you side with her out of motherly love, we won’t stand in your way—you can be together. But then you’re no longer part of this family. Go live with your daughter.”

Zhao Qiaoniang wailed. “Mom! You’re breaking my heart! I married into this family—this is my home!”

Zhang Chahua coldly replied, “Then remember where your home is. Don’t forget today’s words, or don’t blame me for humiliating you later!”

She’d initially approved of Zhao Qiaoniang, believing even with a daughter in tow, she wouldn’t harm the family. If she proved disloyal, Zhang Chahua could bring her in—and just as easily cast her out.