Chapter Eighteen: Building Good Relations

After Chen Xin repeated her plan, she explained that she wasn’t familiar with the village’s situation and was merely speaking as thoughts occurred to her; the best course should be decided by the village chief and others. Having said this, she withdrew from the discussion, carrying Zhang Zhang to the side room, where she chatted with Zhang Zhang’s grandmother. The village chief’s two children joined them.

The chief’s son was in his last year of high school; soon after the New Year, he would face the college entrance exam. He wasn’t clear about his ambitions and had come to seek advice from Chen Xin. The chief’s eldest niece, on the other hand, came purely out of curiosity about Chen Xin. She hadn’t pursued further studies after high school, opting instead to work as a waitress in the provincial capital, earning a decent income that left her quite satisfied.

Chen Xin spoke with the chief’s son for a while and, discovering his interest in computers, advised him to apply for a computer science program at a university in the provincial capital.

Her advice was based on two considerations: first, the College of Science and Technology at C University ranked well among domestic universities after a decade or so, yet its admission scores weren’t among the highest. Second, living expenses in the provincial capital were much lower compared to other regions. If he attended university on the coast, monthly living costs would be considerable, necessitating part-time work, which would inevitably reduce study time. Since computer technology evolves rapidly, failing to keep up with the latest knowledge could mean achieving nothing and being stuck as a basic coder, facing the threat of burnout.

“By the way, C University has bonus points for certain backgrounds. You should ask your teachers—I recall your area is an old third-tier industrial region, so there ought to be extra points. Outstanding student leaders also get bonuses. If all else fails, you could try for a national athlete certificate. You need to prepare for these things early; otherwise, missing out by just one or two points would be a real loss.”

Before coming, Chen Xin had heard Teacher Song mention this to a cousin’s child, so she was passing on what she’d learned.

The chief’s son listened carefully and made a mental note, looking at Chen Xin with newfound warmth.

Chen Xin’s advice was, in fact, a favor from the Zhang family to the chief’s household. Even in a village full of honest people, every family has its own interests. If it doesn’t hurt to help, people will look out for you; but when their own interests are at stake, they’ll put themselves first.

The eldest son of the Zhang family was clearly a reserved, honest man; his limp had made him a bit self-conscious, and he didn’t seem the type to uphold the family name. The elderly couple was getting on in years, and life would only become tougher. Establishing a good relationship with those in power was crucial. Next, she planned to help the Zhang family’s eldest stand tall, hoping that, when Zhang Zhang grew up, he wouldn’t resent his aunt for minding her own affairs.

The chief’s son was a sociable young man, raised in the village, and knew the hills inside out—everything they produced was familiar to him.

After some probing, Chen Xin learned their main source of income was collecting mountain produce. Yet selling it was challenging: many people in the region did the same, and buyers looked for easy access. Their village was halfway up the mountain, the road was poor, and as the population dwindled, the volume of goods decreased yearly. Buyers were increasingly reluctant to make special trips for such a small amount.

“Can I see what kinds of mountain produce you have here?”

Chen Xin’s request was simple. An aunt led her to the storeroom, dragging out a sack of goods.

Inside, everything was packed in plastic bags: wood ear mushrooms, silver ear mushrooms, wild fungi, kudzu roots—a variety of common mountain fare. There were also dried pine pollen and wild greens.

“There are mountain chickens, wild rabbits, and doves hanging from the kitchen beam. People down the mountain love them, but selling is inconvenient.”

Having seen all this, Chen Xin came up with an idea, though whether it would work remained to be seen.

“Before I came, my neighbor Grandpa Liu told me the country is working to raise rural incomes, encouraging the cultivation of economic crops and livestock. I looked up some information: this area produces wood ear and silver ear mushrooms in abundance, which could be utilized.”

No factories operated on the mountain, few people lived there, and pollution was minimal; crops grown here must have higher nutritional value than elsewhere. Raising mountain chickens, rabbits, bamboo rats, and the like could also provide income. But the same issue persisted: transportation. To become prosperous, building roads was essential—whether bringing in seeds and young animals or sending out harvested goods, all depended on convenient transport.

“My father asked about road construction in town. The town didn’t refuse, but our county is a nationally designated impoverished area. Though funds are allocated, they don’t reach villages with harsh conditions like ours; other places take the share.”

“Why?” Chen Xin couldn’t understand. If it was poverty relief funds, why not focus on the most difficult places?

“What else? Performance and political achievements.” The young man might not know everything, but he understood the gist from his father’s conversations at home. “Mountain villages require huge investment to develop, but the same funds can revitalize a village down below. Officials serve for a few years; when it’s time for promotion, they’re evaluated by whether they improved the economy and people’s lives. If the lower villages develop quickly, their achievements are clear. Inspectors come, take a tour, and everything looks great.”

It was a practical issue—not exactly wrong. The country encourages the wealthy to help the less fortunate, but they’re simply developing the easier places first, considering the mountain villages when resources allow. It couldn’t be called a mistake, but falling on one’s own head, it felt unfair.

“Let’s set aside development for now. What about road construction?”

“I know about that. Last time I went to town with my aunt, we met the deputy director. He said the funds for our village could be approved, but the amount wasn’t enough to build a cement road all the way up. Unless the village raised some money itself. But we’re so poor—how could we possibly raise funds to build a road?”

As they were talking, those in the main hall finished their discussion and called everyone out to join in.

Hearing that Chen Xin was asking about road construction, the villagers were eager to vent their frustrations. He had visited the town several times, but the attitude remained: the road could be built if everyone contributed equally.

He knew even this was a concession from the town; neighboring Mountain Water Village asked for road funds but didn’t get any response.

“What if we don’t build a cement road? Use the funds to widen the roadbed first, lay a foundation of stones, mud, and coal slag, press mud on top, and see if asphalt can be used. If not, even a tractor road would be good—at least vehicles could pass, and the road wouldn’t be so rough that cars avoided coming up.”

“Would that work?”

“It’s worth asking. Of course, not directly. I think, if you present a development plan for the village, you’d have a better chance.”

“A plan? What kind of plan?”

“Have you never thought about developing the village’s economic industry?” Chen Xin was dumbfounded; the chief was not quite what she had expected.

“We’ve thought about it. Once the road is built, we can transport mountain produce down, the village will have income, and everyone will be more enthusiastic about collecting goods. That way, we can make money.”

Chen Xin wanted to palm her forehead. Truly, she hadn’t expected the chief to be so naive—no wonder they’d never gotten approval. With no plan at all, building the road would still leave their fate in the hands of chance. Only a fool would invest under such circumstances.