Chapter 12: Leaving the Hospital and Returning to the Xiangyang Brigade

The Xiangyang Brigade, Ankang County, and the gold mine were all situated along a diagonal line running from northeast to southwest.

The gold mine, the furthest west, was over twenty li from the sea. Today was a clear day with excellent visibility. When the team leader pedaled his bike to a high point, Zeng Yanne turned her head and saw a golden line shimmering where the sky met the earth to the east. That was the direction of the sea.

The world in the book had a slight difference in its timeline from the real world, and while the geographical locations were largely unchanged, the specific place names were different. Ankang County was located on the eastern tip of the Jiaodong Peninsula, but when she searched online, there was no Ankang County in the real Jiaodong.

Ankang, which meant “peace and health,” was an ironic name. As Zeng Yanne could see while they rode through the county town, it was far from peaceful and happy. The town was originally a small fishing village that grew with the development of the fishing industry and was later designated a county seat. The town area was small, with one main north-south street and six intersecting streets. Government offices, supply stores, and two state-owned restaurants were all scattered along the main street.

Under the scorching sun, the faded slogans and the listless people on the streets—dressed entirely in black, white, and gray—made for a somber scene. The occasional energetic young person looking for trouble painted a picture straight out of an old photo—this was the reality of the late ’60s.

A few li outside the town and after a big turn, Zeng Yanne came face to face with the sea. If it weren’t for her self-control, she would have exclaimed, “It’s so beautiful!”

The coast near Ankang was hilly, and the bicycle was fast-descending toward the sea. With no tall buildings in the way, her eyes were filled with nothing but the vast, blue ocean. The sight was a kind of visual shock that words couldn’t describe. The generous sea seemed to welcome Zeng Yanne, a visitor from another time and space, with open arms.

The girl’s heart swelled with ambition. Seafood, here I come!

Yes, that’s all the ambition she had.

With the sea breeze blowing, the bumpy road was bearable. Zeng Yanne timed it: it took the team leader forty minutes to get back to the Xiangyang Brigade from the county town. The original owner’s home was a simple fishing village on an island, surrounded by mountains on three sides and facing the sea on one. The houses were all arranged on a gentle, sunny slope.

There were no fishing boats in the bay at the moment. It was the busy farming season, so the fishing boats were being repaired at the communal dock, which, fortunately, meant they avoided the recent typhoon. What Zeng Yanne found incredible was that unlike the county, where many tile roofs were blown off, the houses in the Xiangyang Brigade had very little damage from the typhoon. This was because the houses were mostly made of “seaweed thatch,” a large-leafed seaweed found in the nearby waters. It was rich in gelatin, and when dried, it was used to make roofs that were not only warm in winter and cool in summer but also very durable.

This kind of unique regional architecture had become increasingly rare in later generations as the thatching skill was lost. The Xiangyang Brigade, however, was a large village made up of these seaweed-thatched houses. Zeng Yanne, as a chef, naturally loved folk culture, so she was very pleasantly surprised by the sight.

Seeing the young girl looking at everything with a new curiosity, Zeng Fugui seemed to understand. “Does it feel like you’ve been gone for a lifetime even though it’s only been a few days? I get that feeling, too. That’s what home is like—both familiar and strange.”

Zeng Yanne never thought the team leader had such a sentimental side. She wanted to tell him, I didn’t leave. I was never here to begin with.

She didn’t let the team leader take her all the way to her doorstep. Managing such a large production team wasn’t easy, and he had many things to do. “Uncle Fugui, you should get back to your work. I can walk the rest of the way myself.”

Zeng Fugui didn’t insist. “Don’t rush back to work. Rest for a few more days, and when your body has fully recovered, go find Old Zhao at the livestock shed.”

“Okay. My body is my own, and I’ll take good care of it.”

After watching the team leader ride away, Zeng Yanne followed her memory to get home. The Zeng family’s house was in Team One, on the second row of the southernmost slope, right in the middle. The whole team, from eighty-year-old elders to three-year-old kids, were all working in the fields to re-plant seedlings. It was crucial for their year-end food supply. As Zeng Yanne walked up the slope toward her house, she didn’t see a single idle person.

The houses on both sides of the road were mostly courtyard-style homes, with a main house facing north and side houses on the east and west. They were all connected by a wall on the south side. While the houses appeared to be private, they weren’t. The limited space meant the houses were packed tightly together, and each yard was small. The street between them was also very narrow. It was no exaggeration that if someone in a back-row house sneezed, the people in the front could hear it. With most families being large and living in these small, enclosed courtyards, there were no secrets.

This environment wasn’t suitable for her, given she had a special space. To live and work in peace, Zeng Yanne decided to find a quiet place to live as soon as possible. She quickly reached the front door and lifted the stone slab outside. There was nothing underneath. The house key was usually kept there. They knew she was coming home today, yet they deliberately didn’t leave the key.

Zeng Yanne’s expression turned cold. It seemed this group of people needed another lesson.

Not having a key didn’t stop her. The wall wasn’t very high. Zeng Yanne took a running start, climbed the wall, and agilely dropped into the courtyard.

The Zeng family’s three main houses were all different heights. The one with the highest ceiling belonged to Zeng Fugui and Sun Jiazhi. The main hall separated it from the other room, which housed the eldest son, Zeng Jianguo, and his wife, who had married earlier in the year. The two side houses on the east were for the second son, Zeng Kangmei, and the third, Zeng Yuanchao. The two side houses on the west were a kitchen and a storage room. Unlike the other houses with stone walls and seaweed roofs, these two rooms were simple mud and straw huts with ceilings less than two meters high.

This was where the original owner lived.

The door wasn’t locked. Zeng Yanne pushed it open. The small room, less than ten square meters, was mostly filled with old wood, broken farm tools, and other junk. A bed made of a few old planks was squeezed into a corner, covered with a thin, lumpy mattress. The air was humid in the summer by the sea, and the low ceiling made it hard to ventilate. The chicken coop next door and the musty smell from inside the room were stifling.

This was the room the original owner had lived in for fifteen years—cold in the winter, hot in the summer, and a haven for rats and bed bugs.

Zeng Yanne stepped out of the room and looked toward Mao’er Mountain, where the Zeng family was working. She couldn’t endure this. It was time to start the fight.