“Who’s been feeding you nonsense?” Su Changhe shot a glare at Wang Chunmei, who was hobbling around on crutches.

“That sickly girl? She barely finished middle school. She’s lucky if she can read a full article, let alone write one! These people are full of hot air.”

If she could be a writer and earn money from writing, then Su Changhe could be the director of a machinery factory.

“Nonsense? The whole village is talking about it! They said the postman handed her a bulging envelope. Who knows how much money was stuffed inside?” Wang Chunmei said, finding a bench to sit on and wiping the sweat from her forehead.

A trace of regret flickered across her face. If she had known that sickly girl had so much potential, she would never have pushed Su Changhe to break off the engagement with the Shen family.

Xu Jiaojiao worked at the supply and marketing cooperative all month long, only earning 15 yuan.

The promised permanent position had yet to materialize. Xu Jiaojiao’s uncle claimed it was because they weren’t family yet.

To Wang Chunmei, it was obvious that Cao Erxiang and Xu Youcai were deliberately keeping their family hanging.

If they get engaged, and Cao Erxiang and Xu Youcai dare to make excuses and say something irresponsible, let’s see how she will deal with Xu Jiaojiao in the future.

“The villagers blow things out of proportion, and you’re the fool who believes it,” Su Changhe said dismissively, tidying up the grain storage cabinet. He didn’t even bother to lift his head.

“Get out of my way. Stop being a nuisance.”

His voice brimmed with irritation.

Falling and breaking her leg while hanging herself—why hadn’t she just died outright?

Since his foolish wife’s accident, everything had fallen on his shoulders. Not only did he earn fewer work points, but she constantly created trouble.

While others had already brought their grain home, he was still here, exhausted and cleaning the grain storage.

She couldn’t help, which was bad enough, but she had to stand there spouting nonsense and testing his patience.

He must have owed her a great debt in a past life.

118 Yuan!

As expected of a magazine based in Beijing—they were generous.

Tossing the letter into a drawer, Shen Zhihuan lightly flicked the money order, unable to suppress the grin spreading across her face.

With this money, she could afford anything she wanted!

“What’s got you grinning like that at a piece of paper?” Li Qiuhua asked, walking back in after seeing off Li Jiabao. She couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of her daughter beaming at a tiny slip of paper.

“This isn’t just paper—it’s meat, sponge cake, malted milk, my little brother’s favorite peach pastries, White Rabbit candies, canned fruit… It’s everything delicious!” Shen Zhihuan exclaimed, planting a kiss on Weidong’s cheek.

Li Qiuhua looked puzzled.

“Mom, this is a money order,” Shen Zhihuan explained, handing it to her.

“A money order? The kind you take to the post office to collect money?” Li Qiuhua asked hesitantly.

Though she couldn’t read, she’d heard of money orders.

Every month around the tenth, the village party secretary, Su Changjiang, would receive a money order from the army.

Everyone in the village envies Zhang Fengxia. Her husband is the village party secretary, her two sons are very capable, her eldest son and daughter-in-law are filial to her, and her second son sends money home on time every month.

Zhang Fengxia’s family had been the first in the village to build a tiled house, buy a bicycle, and own a sewing machine.

“Yes, the very same. Mom, let’s go to the market tomorrow and cash this money order. We can pay back the Su family while we’re at it,” Shen Zhihuan said with a bright smile.

Once the debt to Wang Chunmei and Su Changhe was settled, their family could pursue a better life openly.

With spring just around the corner, it would be time to build a new tiled house. Plant some flowers in the front yard, raise some chickens and ducks in the backyard, write a few articles when I have free time, and go for a walk in the mountains when I’m bored.

Just thinking about such a leisurely life makes me happy.

As for the college entrance examination, leave it to those aspiring young people with ideals and ambitions!

“How much is it for?” Li Qiuhua asked, glancing at the money order.

“118 yuan!”

“So much?!” Li Qiuhua gasped.

In these days, many factory workers earned only 20–30 yuan a month.

One hundred and eighteen yuan is equivalent to several months’ salary of an ordinary worker.

“There’ll be even more in the future,” Shen Zhihuan said, wrapping an arm around Li Qiuhua’s shoulders.

Their lives would only improve.

The next morning, the family took Wang Baotian’s ox cart to town.

At the post office, Shen Zhihuan first mailed two articles she had written during her free time. Then, she handed over the money order.

The postal worker’s eyes lit up as she looked at Shen Zhihuan, barely containing her excitement.

“Are you the writer who submitted to Yueren Magazine in Beijing?”

“Writer is too grand a title; just call me Shen Zhihuan,” Shen Zhihuan said, forcing a smile as a vein throbbed on her forehead.

You… (“您” (nín) is a formal, respectful version of “you”)

Is it appropriate to use it on a 17-year-old girl like her?

“Comrade Shen Zhihuan, your writing is amazing! We’re all fans here,” the postal worker said, lowering her voice as if to share a secret.

“Thank you!” Shen Zhihuan replied politely.

“Could you sign my copy of Yueren Magazine?” the worker asked eagerly, pulling out a copy from her drawer.

Suppressing a groan, Shen Zhihuan took the magazine and scrawled her name on it.

The worker inspected the signature carefully before stowing the magazine away, her actions so meticulous they made Shen Zhihuan want to laugh.

If only my old literature teacher could see this! They’d be so proud.

The worker counted the money twice before handing over the cash.

“Here, Mom,” Shen Zhihuan said, handing the money to Li Qiuhua.

“You keep it,” Li Qiuhua said, refusing to take it.

Nearby, people overheard their exchange and shot curious glances their way.

118 yuan wasn’t a small amount—it was enough to cover a bride price.

Who’d trust a young girl with such a fortune?

“Mom, I’ve still got money. If I run out, I’ll ask you,” Shen Zhihuan said, forcing the cash into her mother’s hands.

The last time she sold ginseng for 1,200, she gave Li Qiuhua 1,000 and kept the rest for herself.

As for how much was left after her previous shopping trip, she hadn’t bothered to count.

Anyway, there was still some left—that was good enough!