Song Ruan was unaware of their conversation, but after seeing the house, she was now very satisfied.  

It was a rare blue-brick and tile house for this era, with four rooms arranged symmetrically. The central area consisted of the main hall and the kitchen, while the two bedrooms were situated opposite each other on either side. The walls extended outward along the bedrooms, standing over two meters tall, enclosing the entire house securely.  

The right-hand room, as the brigade leader had mentioned, was unoccupied, but it wasn’t dusty at all. Everything was neatly arranged, revealing that the homeowner was someone who valued cleanliness.  

The brigade leader led her into the main hall and pointed to the door connecting to the kitchen on the left. “We’ll seal this door for you and build a stove. We’ll also move a pot from the kitchen for you. As for larger items like cabinets, chests, and stools—they’re already in the house, so you won’t need to buy them. Save where you can.”  

Ning Yuan tugged at his sleeve, whispering urgently, “The door, the door.”  

The brigade leader took a deep breath.  

“The new wall will curve around. The main gate will be yours, and we’ll also clear a vegetable plot for you, along with a woodshed and an outhouse. You can still plant some radishes and cabbage before winter sets in. I’ll even bring you some vegetable seedlings. I’ll arrange the labor and materials—it’ll be done in two or three days.”  

It sounded like nothing was missing, and Song Ruan had no objections.  

“As for the rent,” the brigade leader thought for a moment, “let’s make it six yuan a year.”  

Song Ruan did a quick calculation. It was 1975 now, and the college entrance exams wouldn’t resume until the end of 1977. Factoring in the time for results and admission notices, she decided to rent it for three years straight—renting for two and a half years would’ve been the most cost-effective, but the timing would’ve seemed too convenient. She had the money now, so there was no need to invite speculation over a few yuan.  

Originally, Song Ruan had planned to pay an extra five yuan for the labor and materials to build the wall, but the brigade leader repeatedly waved her off, saying it wasn’t necessary. Adobe was easy to make, and stones were everywhere. His three sons had too much free time anyway and could use the activity. After some back-and-forth, they settled on two yuan.  

In the end, Song Ruan rented the house for a total of just twenty yuan—less than the original host’s monthly salary. It was quite a bargain.  

She paid cheerfully, but when signing the agreement, she added one condition: the house could only be rented to her for those three years.  

The brigade leader agreed readily. Writing it in was no issue—in his mind, there was no second fool with money to spare willing to do such a thing.  

As for Ning Yuan, who had been silently observing the whole time, though he still didn’t speak when she made this request, his approval was practically spilling out of his eyes.  

The moment the agreement was signed, Ning Yuan darted into the house.  

With a major problem resolved, Song Ruan carefully stored the agreement and bid the brigade leader farewell in high spirits.  

But if there was one thing to say about village gossip networks, they were as efficient as the KGB. That very afternoon, while working, Song Ruan was cornered by villagers eager for news.

Their afternoon task was still weeding, but the workload had doubled compared to the morning. The moment Song Ruan crouched down, Xu Daya sidled up to her.  

“Hey, Little Song, I heard you’re moving out of the educated youth dorm? What’s the matter, someone bullying you?” Her eyes sparkled with excitement, eager for firsthand gossip. “Tell me, and Auntie here can help you think of something.”  

There had to be a reason—otherwise, why would she burn through her money just to live alone? Rumor had it she’d paid*twenty yuan in rent!  

Good heavens, twenty yuan!  

Xu Daya put herself in Song Ruan’s shoes and figured that not even the Jade Emperor himself could convince her to spend that much!  

The old aunties in the neighboring field unanimously paused their work, ears perked as they inched closer.  

Drama from the city folk—now this was entertainment!  

One look at Xu Daya’s gleaming eyes told Song Ruan she wasn’t asking out of genuine concern. Though her impression of the educated youth dorm wasn’t great, she wasn’t about to let rumors spread from her lips. She brushed it off with a laugh, “Nothing like that.”  

“You city girls are so tight-lipped.” Xu Daya clicked her tongue and shook her head, then her eyes lit up with a sly grin. “I heard you’re moving into Brigade Leader’s nephew’s place?”  

Song Ruan saw right through her and cut her off. “A wall’s being built to divide it into two separate yards. We won’t even be using the same gate.”  

Xu Daya nodded in realization. “Ah, right, his place is pretty big.”  

She glanced around furtively, checking that the team leader was busy elsewhere, then lowered her voice conspiratorially. “But do you know why such a big house has only him living in it?”  

Since this concerned her future home, Song Ruan was all ears.  

She blinked and discreetly handed over a fruit candy.  

“Now that’s how you do it!” Xu Daya gave a thumbs-up. “Ning Yuan—he was driven here by his stepmom!”  

“That house? It belonged to his mother!”  

“And haven’t you noticed? Even though he’s Brigade Leader’s nephew, they don’t share the same surname!”  

“Wait, what?”  

One bombshell after another—this sounded like a juicy story.  

Unconsciously, Song Ruan leaned in closer.  

Even the system in her head metaphorically pulled out some sunflower seeds to munch on.  

Seeing that she’d successfully shocked the city girl, Xu Daya puffed up with pride, hands on her hips.  

“Ning Yuan’s maternal family were refugees, but they had a *fantastic* skill for making tofu.” Here, she smacked her lips as if reminiscing about the taste, but quickly dove back into the gossip. “They managed to settle down and even built two rooms, later adding two more.”  

“But maybe their health was ruined during the escape—they only ever had Ning Yuan’s mom, a single daughter. After the old couple passed, his grandma wanted to bring in a live-in son-in-law to carry on the family line.”  

“But Ning Yuan’s mom was stunning. Brigade Leader’s older brother—Ning Yuan’s dad—was a soldier back home on leave, and he fell *hard* for her. He didn’t move in, but he promised their first child would take her surname, so she agreed. Mostly because she had four rooms all to herself, and some folks were questioning her family background—marrying him gave her some protection.”  

“Then, when Ning Yuan was four or five, his mom got sick and died. His dad remarried not long after. You think any stepmother’s good? They say ‘a stepmother means a stepfather,’ and then the new wife had twins—both with his surname. Ning Yuan got shoved aside, and by his teens, he was dumped back here. Pitiful, really.”  

“Who knows how that damned woman treated him, but she turned him skittish as a mouse—wouldn’t even show his face. Brigade Leader let him live in that house alone, and he’s been there ever since.”

Song Ruan couldn’t help but sigh at the story.  

Xu Daya was just gearing up to deliver another sharp commentary when a sudden shout came from behind:  

“Xu Daya! What nonsense are you spouting over there?”  

Xu Daya bristled and whipped her head around, ready for battle—only to see the scowling face of the team leader glaring at her. She hastily grabbed a handful of weeds.  

A moment later, still unwilling to let it go, she leaned in again. “Little Song, now that you know how pitiable Brigade Leader’s nephew is, and how good-looking he is—”  

Song Ruan sensed where this was heading and abruptly pointed at a cluster of reddish-brown roots among the grass, feigning excitement as she yanked them up. “Auntie, we even have zhe’ergen here!”  

Xu Daya’s momentum was derailed. She pursed her lips in dissatisfaction and glanced at the weeds in Song Ruan’s hand. “What root? That’s just stinky old man grass. What’s the use of that?”  

Though not as common as dandelions, the plant wasn’t exactly rare around here—mostly because it reeked like rotting garbage, so no one bothered pulling it. That neglect had given it plenty of room to thrive.  

“It’s delicious,” Song Ruan declared earnestly.  

Xu Daya edged closer, skeptical, but the moment that familiar pungent odor hit her nose, she snapped back to reality. “Don’t you fool your auntie now. How’re you supposed to eat this stuff?”  

“Cold-tossed salad.” Song Ruan shook off the dirt and set it aside, then launched into an impromptu lesson. “This is called yuxingcao (fishwort). Not only is it edible, but it also clears heat, detoxifies, reduces inflammation, and dispels dampness. It can even boost immune system function!”  

“What chicken what now?” Xu Daya’s head spun from the unfamiliar terms.  

“It means eating it makes you healthier and less likely to get sick.”  

That Xu Daya understood. “So this is actually good stuff?”  

“No wonder you city folks know so much.” She nodded along, convinced, and started pulling up the fishwort from her own row, setting it aside to take home after work.  

Still stinky, though. Ah well—she’d give it to her grandson. Kids needed to grow, after all, and they could use that chicken power or whatever. She certainly didn’t need it.  

The other aunties, who’d been eavesdropping, subconsciously began hunting for patches of their own. They wrinkled their noses at the stench but plucked them anyway.

Perhaps it was the bonding over gossip and the “fishwort diplomacy,” but Xu Daya realized that city folk weren’t as high and mighty as she’d thought—they ate wild greens and loved idle chatter just like them. Her attitude toward Song Ruan warmed considerably, and she even shared some local wild vegetable varieties commonly eaten in the area.  

As the leader assigned to guide the new educated youths, Xu Daya had to periodically check if they were doing things correctly, so her own assigned plot wasn’t large. Plus, she was a seasoned farmhand, finishing her work early most days. More often than not, she squatted beside Song Ruan, chatting away.  

But whenever the team leader came around, she’d hastily grab a few weeds for show or demonstratively “teach” Song Ruan the ropes—unintentionally doing a fair bit of her work in the process.  

So, while the other educated youths were dead on their feet after the day’s labor, Song Ruan still had enough energy to shuffle over to her future home for a quick look.  

Brigade Leader was there with his three sons, enthusiastically building her wall. Maybe it was the effect of those two extra yuan, but all four were in high spirits, working with tireless gusto.  

The wall on the ground already stood half a meter tall, winding like an earthen dragon and splitting the courtyard in two. But since the main gate had been allocated to her side, her portion looked noticeably larger at a glance—almost as if Ning Yuan were the tenant.  

Song Ruan: Well… I feel a little guilty, but not enough to care.

Ah, the bliss of an introvert’s private space!  

When they noticed her arrival, Brigade Leader grinned and planted his shovel in the dirt. “The wall’ll be done tomorrow, and the woodshed and outhouse the day after. But I’ve already had Xiao Ning tidy up the house for you. You can move your stuff in tomorrow and start living here.”  

Twenty yuan, after all. Every day unused is a waste, Brigade Leader thought.  

Song Ruan smiled gratefully. “Once everything’s ready, I’ll cook a meal to thank you all!”  

“No need, no need!” Brigade Leader waved her off, though his face lit up with delight.  

Back at the educated youth dorm, dinner was underway—watery cornmeal porridge again, with one wild vegetable dumpling per person. After all, there was no heavy labor at night; eating more would just be a waste of food.  

Song Ruan’s face turned green as she forced down the bland dumpling. Any thoughts of making up excuses to leave early vanished. She simply announced, “Just letting everyone know—I’m moving out tomorrow, so you don’t need to include my portion for meals anymore.”