Chapter 1

In June 1994.

After a night of heavy rain, the hazy morning light filtered through the泡桐 leaves, casting a somewhat dim glow through the wooden window frames, as if through a black-and-white film, giving off a sense of rusted, crumbling old times.

The quiet village under the泡桐 trees gradually came to life. Farmers wearing straw hats, barefoot and carrying hoes, walked on the muddy farm paths.

A few children, crawling in the fields and rolling in the mud, were playing house. A little bride, pulled and tugged by a few boys, was swaying back and forth, their noisy shouts adding a lively touch to the tranquil morning.

The old village chief, puffing on his pipe, had set out early, his bamboo basket filled with green and red peppers, eggplants, and soybeans.

He greeted a neighbor leading a yellow ox, and Lin Yi, who was brushing his teeth under the eaves, finished his morning routine.

Entering the house, he arranged his toothbrush and cup, washed his face with a towel, and then wrung it out and laid it on the wooden washstand.

The Eight Immortals table was more bountiful today, with two dishes: stir-fried cured pork with green and red peppers, and tofu with scallions.

Seeing the familiar dishes, Lin Yi sighed to himself, "It's finally here."

Choosing a seat away from the door, he looked at his father, dressed in a neat suit, and asked, "Are you leaving?"

Hearing this, Lin Xicai, seated at the head of the table, was taken aback. After a moment, he said, "You already knew?"

"It's not that surprising. Was it hard to guess?"

In the month since his grandparents' passing, Lin Xicai had been rummaging through the house, selling valuable items. More than one neighbor had privately asked Lin Yi.

"Did you hear your father is going out of town to do business?"

"Is he selling off the family property to run away with a new wife?"

"Lin Yi, are you going with him?"

...

Lin Xicai's intentions were laid bare, and he felt a bit uncomfortable. But being a seasoned man, he quickly regained his composure.

Looking at Lin Yi, he sighed, "When I was young, I always wanted to change my fate. I left the power station to start an oil pressing business, then became a butcher and a tailor.

Through all the ups and downs, I realized that changing my fate was an illusion, a paradox. The final traces formed my bumpy life, and all the changes were just a process without a result..."

Pausing, Lin Xicai added, "I am not content."

For Lin Yi, who had been reborn, his father's experiences were vague memories, too distant and unclear to delve into deeply.

In Lin Yi's mind, his father was no different from countless other small intellectuals of the time, with a bit of pride but always looking for greener pastures, feeling both excited and lost by the changing times.

Lacking imagination for the future, he let fate push him around, drifting aimlessly, never truly at ease.

But Lin Yi, who had been reborn for half a year, was not fooled by his father's embellished words and was not easily deceived.

In Lin Yi's heart, his father was just a troublemaker.

He gave up a good job at the power station to start a business, and after a few years, his two apprentices had made some money, while he was left with nothing.

When he was a butcher, the neighbors he had helped became professional butchers, selling meat from tricycles, living comfortably, while he had given it up.

Lin Yi picked up a piece of meat and, swallowing it slowly, said, "What's the point of all this talk? Isn't it just for the three thousand yuan my grandparents left me? Don't even think about it; I need it for school."

Caught again, Lin Xicai's face stiffened, and his chopsticks slowed. But he still tried to argue, "We have more than two acres of ginger, three plots of rice, and a fish pond. All of these can be sold for money."

Lin Yi glanced at him, chewing on a piece of pepper, and countered, "The two acres of ginger are mine to plant, the three plots of rice are from my grandparents, and the fish pond is tended by the neighbor next door. You haven't lifted a finger."

Knowing he was in the wrong, Lin Xicai had no response, but he didn't give up. "But if we sell them, it will be enough for your high school tuition. Give me the three thousand yuan, and I'll send you more from outside."

"Ha, do you even believe that?" Lin Yi couldn't help but sound sarcastic.

Money, Lin Xicai had been talking about making money outside for years, but Lin Yi had never seen a penny of it.

The money he claimed to have earned was either spent on suits, shoes, and hair gel, or wasted on his own indulgences.

Of course, he had also found Lin Yi a stepmother.

In his memory, over the past eight years, Lin Xicai had never bought Lin Yi a single piece of clothing. And when confronted, he always had an excuse, saying:

"Your aunts and uncles buy you so many new clothes, you don't need one from me."

...

The breakfast was spent in a heated argument over the three thousand yuan...

It was noisy and ended in frustration. With a series of "clatter, clatter, bang, bang,"

Lin Xicai, in a fit of rage, swept the Eight Immortals table, sending the dishes, bowls, chopsticks, and enamel cups crashing to the ground, shattering the tiles and filling the hall with debris.

One standing, one sitting, they stared at each other, the small wooden house falling silent.

After a long while, Lin Yi got up and left the house.

Of course, he wouldn't give the money.

...

Lin Xicai left, taking a mother and daughter with him.

From his past life, Lin Yi knew that if he didn't deliberately change the course of events, he and his father wouldn't see each other for a long time.

But Lin Yi didn't care. What had happened in his past life was not worth worrying about in this life.

He had more important things to do. In the past few days, while working in the fields, Lin Yi had noticed that the thriving ginger plants had a few diseased stalks.

This was a serious matter. Ginger blight was highly contagious and a deadly threat to ginger. Lin Yi couldn't afford to be careless.

These few acres of ginger were his lifeline, not only for his future education but also for his next steps in life, his hope for the future.

The drizzle of the southern summer, sticky and fine, wouldn't stop just like that.

Frowning at the mess, he tucked his "Zhou Huimin" T-shirt into his pants.

Lin Yi grabbed a bamboo hat, put it on, and draped a white plastic sheet over his shoulders with a rope.

Bending down, he rolled up his labor pants to just below his knees.

Carrying a load of lime on one shoulder and a pair of scissors in his left hand, he stepped into the drizzle.

Speaking of ginger, the prices had been poor in recent years. Last year, it was so bad that no one would buy it for a dime, and much of it rotted in the cellars.

But this year was different. In his memory, the golden bachelor from the sixth production team had sold more than an acre of ginger for nearly ten thousand yuan, envied by everyone.

Many people later said, "He got lucky, and it was a once-in-a-decade kind of luck."

Yes, it was a big stroke of luck.

After selling the ginger, the thirty-something bachelor miraculously got a wife and a son, going from one person to three.

Okay, so it was a second marriage, not a beautiful and wealthy woman, and he became a father.

But in the eyes of the other bachelors, he had reached the pinnacle of life.

The gossip of the neighbors was deeply etched in his memory.

In this era, in this poor village.

A few months ago, when Lin Yi was reborn, he couldn't think of any other way out. After observing the golden bachelor plant ginger and abandon rice as expected,

He ignored his grandparents' objections and also gave up the rice fields.