As soon as Song Jing’an’s health improved, he started working with everyone else. He also needed to clear up the rumors circulating in the team—he had no intention of letting certain people get their way again.  

Coincidentally, he was assigned to the same group as Lin Bangguo.  

When Lin Bangguo saw Song Jing’an, he froze for a moment. He had assumed Song Jing’an wouldn’t show up, and his face stiffened, his smile forced. “Comrade Song, I heard you were sick. Are you feeling better now?”  

Song Jing’an noticed his discomfort and sneered inwardly—clearly, Lin was afraid he’d come out and debunk the rumors.  

Whatever he was thinking inside, Song Jing’an made sure to appear deeply moved on the surface. “Much better, thank you for your concern, Comrade Lin.”  

Both were newly arrived educated youths, tall and handsome, and walking together quickly drew attention.  

Especially Song Jing’an, who was currently at the center of the storm. He could already feel multiple pairs of eyes scrutinizing him.  

“That’s the new educated youth, Song Jing’an? Doesn’t look like the type to fake illness to skip work.”  

“But he’s probably really weak. Looks like a city boy, slight build.”  

Song Jing’an’s eyelid twitched. Could they at least try to whisper? And his body wasn’t weak!!!  

“Auntie, were you talking about me?” Song Jing’an suddenly spoke up. “I didn’t fake being sick to skip work—I was genuinely ill. I’m still taking medicine prescribed by Dr. Lin.”  

“If you don’t believe me, ask Comrade Lin. We came to the countryside together. He knows my character best.”  

Without hesitation, Song Jing’an dragged Lin Bangguo into the mess. Since Lin had been the one secretly tarnishing his reputation, he might as well make Lin clear it up for him.  

“Right, Comrade Lin?”  

Lin Bangguo had a bad feeling the moment Song Jing’an spoke. When all eyes turned to him, waiting for his response, he felt like the ground had dropped beneath him.  

He never expected Song Jing’an to openly address the rumors. In his assumptions, even if Song Jing’an heard the gossip, he wouldn’t bother clarifying.  

How had things turned out like this?  

If this were the Song Jing’an from his past life, he might have let it slide, believing “the truth would come out eventually.” But this time, Song Jing’an refused to stay silent. Setting the record straight wouldn’t kill him.  

“Comrade Lin?” Song Jing’an pressed, staring at him, waiting for an answer.  

Lin Bangguo opened his mouth. “Y-yes, Comrade Song isn’t that kind of person. He really was sick—probably just struggling to adjust to the new environment.”  

The rumors had been vague to begin with, and now that the person involved had spoken up—with a witness, no less—they quickly lost their bite.  

The auntie who’d been gossiping immediately changed her tune. “Oh dear, that must’ve been rough! But Dr. Lin in our village is top-notch.”  

She gave Song Jing’an a thumbs-up. “His medicine will have you back on your feet in no time.”  

Song Jing’an nodded earnestly. “Dr. Lin really is amazing—just as good as city doctors. I started feeling better right after taking his medicine.”  

Hearing Song Jing’an praise Dr. Lin as even better than city doctors filled the auntie with pride. She beamed, pleased that this city boy recognized their rural talents.  

Her gaze softened as she looked at Song Jing’an, now viewing him like one of her own. The more she looked, the more she liked him—and the guiltier she felt for misjudging him earlier.  

“Don’t worry, Comrade Song. It was just a misunderstanding. A little explanation will fix everything. I’ll help you out.”  

Song Jing’an’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, Auntie. You’re so kind.”  

“It’s nothing!” The auntie couldn’t stop smiling. After exchanging a few more words, she walked away.  

Song Jing’an watched her leave, his gaze thoughtful. He hadn’t chosen her randomly—this was Auntie Cui, known for her warmth and popularity in the brigade.  

With her help in dispelling the rumors, they’d be gone in no time.  

“I didn’t expect Comrade Song to get along so well with the locals,” Lin Bangguo said, his tone complicated as he looked at Song Jing’an.  

Song Jing’an smiled. “Everyone here is just easy to talk to. Don’t you think the people here are very genuine, Comrade Lin?”

Could Lin Bangguo say no? Of course not. He could only force a smile and nod, no longer in the mood to talk as he focused on working to earn work points. Since coming to the countryside, he’d learned just how hard those points were to earn.  

Watching him, Song Jing’an smirked silently. This was just the beginning—he would dismantle the plot piece by piece.  

Thanks to his past life’s experience, Song Jing’an quickly got the hang of farm work. Still, his body wasn’t fully accustomed yet, and after a morning of labor, his muscles ached.  

Rubbing his shoulder, he walked back with Bai Junwu.  

“Shoulder pain?” Bai Junwu asked. “It’s just because you’re not used to the work yet. You’ll adapt soon.”  

“It’s fine. I’ll be okay in a couple of days,” Song Jing’an replied, continuing forward—only to nearly collide with Liang Jian.  

Liang Jian glared at them, his face dark, but for some reason, he veered around them and stormed off, nose still high in the air.  

A thought suddenly struck Song Jing’an. Liang Jian had returned this time to transfer his files back to the city, but he’d failed—because Bai Fumin refused to stamp the approval. That was why Liang Jian held a grudge against the Bai family.  

No, I have to warn Bai Fumin.

After lunch, Song Jing’an sought out Bai Fumin. “Uncle Bai.”  

“What’s up?”  

Song Jing’an chose his words carefully. “I just wanted to ask—have our educated youths’ files arrived yet?”  

Bai Fumin looked up. “They’re here, all sorted.”  

“That’s good.” Song Jing’an exhaled in relief. “You have no idea how worried I was that they might get stuck somewhere.”  

“Sometimes files get held up, and people can just brush it off with some excuse. You can’t even argue—they’ll have a ‘valid reason’ ready, leaving no room for complaint.” He smiled. “Thanks, Uncle Bai. Now I can rest easy.”  

Seeing Bai Fumin’s thoughtful expression, Song Jing’an felt slightly reassured. He couldn’t say it outright, so this was the best he could do.  

In his past life, Bai Fumin had outright blocked Liang Jian’s file transfer, giving his enemies leverage. Later, he was removed from his position for “abuse of power.”  

This time, Song Jing’an hoped things would be different. His advice? Stall—just drag it out. Whether Bai Fumin would take the hint, though, remained to be seen.  

Bai Fumin *did* take the hint—and he started considering even more.  

Compared to their roundabout tactics, Bai Zhizhi was far more direct.  

“Big White, peck him!”  

At Bai Zhizhi’s command, the goose charged, clamping its beak onto Liang Jian’s backside as he came to confront Bai Fumin. Flapping its wings furiously, it refused to let go.  

Liang Jian yelped in pain, swearing as he reached back to grab the goose’s neck. “Damn bird, let go!”  

Just as his fingers closed in, Big White suddenly released its grip—only to immediately lunge for his leg. Terrified, Liang Jian scrambled away in panic.  

Liao Guizhi, hearing the commotion, called out, “What’s going on?”  

“Big White’s just chasing the dog for fun!” Bai Zhizhi answered sweetly, then quietly gave the goose a thumbs-up. “Good job, Big White!”  

The goose let out a proud honk, but suddenly, it stiffened, its head snapping toward a shadowy corner.  

Bai Zhizhi followed its gaze—and locked eyes with a pair of wide, startled ones. Before the owner could duck away, they wobbled and collapsed in a faint.  

Bai Zhizhi: !!!