Chapter Fifty-Eight: Sister Jia's Advice

Previously, the village chief had instructed people to restore the old tea garden according to Chen Xin's suggestions. The low-growing, wild shrubs were carefully cleared away, and earthen ridges were built to encircle the plantation. Elderly villagers without family were assigned to look after it. The elders weren’t required to do much physical labor—just check daily for water shortages, wild weeds, or pests and diseases. If they were able, they could gather stones and stack them along the ridges, marking the tea garden as communal property.

“Originally, we planned to lease out this mountain, but after realizing the old tea garden was a treasure, the township wouldn’t approve it. They let the village manage it directly and hired special caretakers. No one in our village knows how to grow tea, so we wanted to invite a teacher, but couldn’t find a suitable candidate. Director Zhao, you must help us and recommend an expert,” the village chief said.

He was quite adept at conversation, showering Director Zhao with subtle flattery—one would never guess he was an uneducated old farmer.

“One of my purposes for visiting is exactly this,” Director Zhao replied straightforwardly. “Earlier this spring, I attended a lecture at Southwest Agricultural University and discussed similar issues with a professor there. The professor has a project researching this area. If your village is willing, I can introduce you and see if he’ll make your village one of his research sites. I’m here today to collect some information so I’ll have something to report when I speak with him.”

Director Zhao was clearly a doer; the village chief was overjoyed, promising that anything the professor needed would be fully supported by the village.

“You won’t need to provide funding, but it’d be best to build a few houses here. After all, when students come, they’ll need somewhere to stay. If they live in the village, it’s a bit far; should the weather change, it would be hard for them to return in time.”

“That’s no problem! Our villagers might not be skilled at much else, but we’re strong. Give us a month—no, half a month—and we’ll build three big tile-roofed houses.”

“Three may not be enough. If you’re willing to cooperate, I’ll consult the professor first. Once we know his requirements, you’ll have plenty of time to build whatever is needed.”

It was still summer—not the best time for observation. For soil and sample analysis, they didn’t need to be present all the time; a temporary cabin could be erected in a week. When the details were settled, there’d be ample time to construct proper housing.

Besides the tea garden, Director Zhao visited the Zhang family’s livestock farm. He praised their willingness to take this step, encouraged the villagers, and urged everyone to seize policies, dare to take loans, and strive to become prosperous.

The villagers had long envied their neighbors at the foot of the mountain, but feared the government wouldn’t offer them the same benefits and worried that a misstep would ruin them. Even though loans were interest-free for three years, they had no confidence in the approval process. The Zhangs dared to take the plunge partly because their status as a martyr’s family brought preferential policies, and also because Zhang’s third brother’s compensation served as seed money. Though the villagers didn’t know the exact amount, seeing the Zhangs build their farm without hesitation suggested it was substantial.

People were still simple then; no one thought of exploiting that compensation. In a few years, though, no one would care where the money came from—everyone would want a share.

But now, with the county leader’s encouragement, perhaps they should be bolder; you can’t catch the wolf without risking your child!

While Director Zhao was speaking with the village chief, the party secretary, and the able-bodied young men, Sister Jia quietly sought out Yan Chunhua to carry out Chen Xin’s request.

Her conversation with Yan Chunhua lasted less than half an hour before she returned to the village committee courtyard and signaled to Chen Xin sitting outside.

By then, Director Zhao had finished his questions and was mainly answering villagers’ concerns. Their conversation wasn’t suspicious in his eyes.

“You all know about the Yan family’s situation? In my opinion, you should reconsider. Your family isn’t well-off; taking on another burden could make life much harder,” Sister Jia said.

Chen Xin clung to Sister Jia’s arm, admitting she had thought about it, but Brother Zhang wouldn’t give up. So she planned to visit Yan Chunhua’s hometown for more information.

“Yan is a good girl; any family would be lucky to have such a daughter. But don’t blame me for being materialistic—if you weren’t short on money, you could just buy a good match. The Zhangs’ situation is still uncertain; no one knows if they’ll make money. I wouldn’t agree right away. It’s good that you’re asking, and your brother should think it over a bit longer.”

Sister Jia had seen enough miserable marriages brought down by poverty—not just in Yan Chunhua’s family, but her own relatives. A little help was fine, but a long-term burden would surely breed conflict between husband and wife.

When Yan Chunhua helped build the farm, she signed a contract with the Zhangs, which included her ID number and contact address.

Yan’s family lived in a different province, but not too far away—if you took the train at nine at night, you’d arrive at the county seat by ten the next morning. Her family were also rural, but their province was mostly flat. Villages there were built around county seats and market towns, forming new rural settlements. A bus ride from the county to their village took no more than half an hour.

It wasn’t Chen Xin who went to inquire at the Yan family home; she wasn’t foolish enough to go directly in front of Yan Chunhua. She asked a close college friend whose family lived in the county to investigate discreetly.

“I’ve asked around for you. Yan Chunhua’s family situation is just as she described. The problem now is with her uncle. I doubt that child will live long,” her friend hesitated, sighing as she explained. “My mom works as a nurse at the county hospital. When I mentioned this, she told me the child is currently hospitalized there. I checked and confirmed he’s Yan Chunhua’s cousin.”

The child’s meningitis had caused intellectual disability; since last year, for reasons unknown, he began having epileptic seizures—several times already. This latest hospitalization happened last month when he went out to play alone; whether by accident or someone’s malice, he was pushed down a slope, injuring his legs. No one noticed when he had a seizure. By the time his parents found him, he was already unconscious.

“My mom said that normally, proper treatment could manage his condition, but he developed other complications—severe lung problems, and likely pulmonary failure.”

After Chen Xin hung up, she was uncertain whether to tell Yan Chunhua. Clearly, her family was keeping it from her. Though the reason was unknown, if she didn’t tell, Yan Chunhua would be hurt and disappointed when she found out. But if she did, the fact she had investigated behind her back couldn’t be hidden.

Either way, it was a dilemma.