NFBE Chapter 184
Chapter 184
“How can someone like Yang Mingwan be a brigade leader, and not you?” Song Nianchu asked, as if it were only natural.“I... I’m afraid I can’t handle it,” Wu Zhenggui murmured.
“Don’t worry about that. Being a brigade leader isn’t much different from being a village head—you’re just managing a few more people. No need to get too stressed,” Song Nianchu reassured him.
Wu Zhenggui opened his mouth several times, wanting to say something, but seeing the look of trust in Song Nianchu’s eyes, those self-deprecating words just wouldn’t come out.
She had gone to such lengths to plan this; how could he, as her elder, back down now?
Wu Zhenggui took a deep breath and looked at Song Nianchu with a serious expression.
“Achu, just go ahead and do what you need to do. I’ll follow your lead, no matter what you ask of me!”
“Then let’s start with repairing the houses.” Song Nianchu’s eyes curved into a smile.
“Alright!”
…
That same afternoon, Wu Zhenggui called a village-wide meeting.
During the meeting, he praised the refugee family with the highest work points, announcing that because of their hard work, the village had decided to build their house ahead of schedule.
When that family heard the news, they could hardly believe it. They even pinched themselves hard to make sure they weren’t dreaming.
Although Song Nianchu and the others had promised them earlier that once their work points reached the standard, they would get houses built, they had always harbored doubts. They thought that even if they met the requirements, the village might not keep its promise, or would find some excuse to delay.
But they never expected—not only was there no delay, but the construction would start early.
As soon as Wu Zhenggui made the announcement, the other refugees looked at that family with envy.
But soon, everyone felt relieved, because they now understood that the village’s promise wasn’t just empty words. As long as they worked hard, their turn would come.
They all made a silent vow to work even harder, to make sure they’d be next.
Because Song Nianchu wanted to build momentum, Wu Zhenggui dispensed with his usual low-key approach. He had someone buy two large strings of firecrackers from the county seat, chose an auspicious day, and held a groundbreaking ceremony.
When the man of that family lifted his hoe and plunged it into his own piece of land for the first time, he broke down sobbing.
He had thought he’d spend the rest of his life drifting from place to place, yet here he was, getting a new home so quickly.
…
Over in Qinghe Fishing Village, things were booming. But in Yang Family Village, chaos reigned.
Their village had been assigned ten refugees, but just a moment ago, another one had died of illness. Now only two refugees were left.
And it hadn’t even been two full months.
“Dad, they’re just refugees who fled here. If they starve to death, they starve to death. Why are you so worried?” Yang Dafu couldn’t understand why his father was so troubled.
“I don’t know why, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Yang Mingwan said, frowning deeply.
“What’s there to worry about? The refugees assigned to other villages are in the same boat. There’s safety in numbers—even if the higher-ups find out, they won’t blame you personally.” Yang Dafu picked his nose casually.
Yang Mingwan heard this, thought of something, and narrowed his eyes at his son.
“I told you to keep an eye on Qinghe Fishing Village. Did you? Any new developments there?” Yang Mingwan asked.
Yang Dafu paused for a moment at the question, but quickly recovered.
“Nothing special going on over there,” he said, trying to make his voice sound as credible as possible.
“Are you sure?” Yang Mingwan pressed.
“Definitely. I mean, I take Jingmei to see her mother every day, don’t I?” Yang Dafu lied without a flicker of shame.
“Now that you mention it, I can’t help but ask again—you’ve been going there for so many days now. Have you gotten any useful information?” Yang Mingwan’s face showed a hint of barely restrained anger.
“Dad, Jingmei’s still working on winning her mother over. You know, she burned bridges with her family when she married me. Repairing that relationship isn’t going to happen overnight. Just give us a few more days,” Yang Dafu said with heartfelt sincerity.
“Fine, I’ll give you a few more days. But if you don’t bring back any useful information, you two are going to start working in the fields!” Yang Mingwan gritted his teeth.
“Got it.” Yang Dafu nodded quickly.
Once Yang Mingwan had left, Yang Dafu hurried home.
As soon as he opened the bedroom door, Mu Jingmei was still lying in bed, asleep.
“Jingmei, wake up.” Yang Dafu nudged her.
“What is it?” Mu Jingmei muttered discontentedly.
“My dad’s asking about our progress again. I don’t think we can keep hiding this much longer. Have you figured out what to do?” Yang Dafu’s voice was urgent.
That night after they got back, Yang Dafu hadn’t known how to confess to his father. Mu Jingmei had told him to say nothing for now.
So for the past few days, they’d been telling Yang Mingwan that they were working on reconciling with Mu Jingmei’s mother, when in reality, the two of them had just been wandering around the county.
But this couldn’t go on forever. If they didn’t come up with a formula soon, his father definitely wouldn’t let them keep loafing around.
“Then just give him a formula,” Mu Jingmei said, still half-asleep and unwilling to dwell on it.
“But we don’t have one.”
“Just make one up.” Mu Jingmei sat up abruptly, annoyed at being disturbed.
“Make... make one up? That’s probably not a good idea, is it?” Yang Dafu hesitated.
“Do you have a better idea?” Mu Jingmei shot back.
Yang Dafu was momentarily speechless.
“We’ll just hand over a formula. Even if the stuff we make from it turns out bad, that’s not our problem. Your dad will have something to show for it.” Mu Jingmei elaborated.
“Well... shall we give it a try?” Yang Dafu faltered.
“It’s settled, then.” Mu Jingmei lay back down and pulled the covers over herself.
…
After construction on the refugees’ houses began in the village, Song Nianchu distributed that month’s dividends.
The money everyone got this time was much more than last month’s. Even the family with the smallest share earned over a hundred yuan, while the top earners had already broken into the thousands.
Though these were household total incomes, at this point in time, it was an amount that most people could only dream of.
The refugees themselves had also received a fair sum.
For the past few days, every villager had been grinning from ear to ear. Seeing that the fire had burned hot enough in their own village, Song Nianchu began spreading news of their success to the outside world.
She called a small meeting among the later-arriving refugees and subtly encouraged them to reach out to friends and relatives who had been assigned to other villages.
Everyone had been too busy working before to think about contacting their loved ones. But now that life was improving, they naturally had the leisure to do so.
And that’s when things got ugly.