When they returned to Shuihuai Village, they had to spend two days getting things in order before starting their daily work.

Cheng Rushan went home first and rented a tractor to help Jiang Xinglei and Shang Zonghui transport several loads of coal and sand to the brick kiln.

After that, he and Dai Guohua left for another province and would be back next month.

After he left, Jiang Lin continued to work at the brick kiln.

The brick kiln was busy day and night. Some people were digging and sifting soil, while others were making bricks and drying them.

Once the bricks were dried, they were fired in the kiln and then sold directly.

The brick kiln wasn’t very big, and Jiang Lin didn’t need to do everything herself.

There were people in charge of each part, so her job was relatively easy.

She asked Jiang Xinglei to follow Shang Zonghui around.

Instead of making bricks right away, she wanted him to learn how each part of the process worked, from start to finish.

At first, Jiang Xinglei was full of confidence.

But after a week, he was exhausted, feeling dizzy and weak.

“Sister, can I have a day off after a week of work?”

Jiang Lin replied, “A day off? Ask Shang Zonghui if he’s had any days off since he started working.”

Jiang Xinglei was almost in tears but had no choice but to continue working with his aching body, following Shang Zonghui around.

They were the same age, yet Shang Zonghui, though a bit shorter, was strong like a young bull and never seemed to get tired.

Jiang Xinglei wanted to slack off, but there was no way he could.

If he didn’t work, he wouldn’t get to eat! And if he tried to sneak back to the city, he wouldn’t have any money for a bus ticket.

Shang Zonghui told Jiang Lin that Jiang Xinglei secretly cried several times.

But when asked, Jiang Xinglei would say he got something in his eyes or that he was so tired he cried without realizing it.

Jiang Lin just laughed when she heard this. “Being tired is good. If you weren’t tired, why would you be here? If you weren’t tired, I’d have to give you more work.”

Half a month later, the brick kiln’s techniques improved, and production became more regular.

Everyone got the hang of things.

Jiang Lin held a meeting with the core team and decided to build three more kilns, making a total of six.

It was the off-season for farming, not yet the freezing winter, so it was a good time to stockpile bricks and tiles.

When the busy farming season came next year, production would need to be reduced because the strong workers would be needed in the fields.

In previous years, the men would idle around, chatting or playing cards and gambling.

Even though they had no money, they would gamble using food or other items.

The village leaders tried to stop it but often failed, as many leaders enjoyed gambling too.

After all, gambling is a natural human interest, and even if they knew it was wrong, they couldn’t resist.

Now, with the brick kiln, the men went to work and could earn at least one yuan a day.

Many stopped gambling and started working.

The strong ones made good money making bricks, while the less strong ones could still earn by digging and sifting soil and mixing mud.

Even some strong women joined in, often earning more than some men.

Now, all day long, there were no idle men in the village; everyone was working and earning money.

So, with the brick kiln, both men and women were happy, and the village leaders were happy too.

Even if inspectors came from higher up, the villagers and leaders would speak up in support, insisting that there were no problems with their brick kiln!

Business was booming.

The list of villagers wanting to buy bricks and tiles filled one large sheet of paper, while orders from neighboring villages filled two more sheets.

Everyone was just waiting for each kiln batch to be fired and ready for pickup.

Of course, there were occasional issues, the biggest being interpersonal relationships.

Everyone wanted to work, but there weren’t enough positions.

Some tried to use connections, such as relatives of village leaders or commune officials, to get a job.

Because of this, Cheng Yulian and the old lady from the Shang family made a lot of enemies.

When Jiang Lin started the factory, she told the core team that hiring decisions were up to these two women, with everyone else supervising.

The old lady from the Shang family was wise, and Cheng Yulian, as the Women’s Director, had experience handling women, so she wasn’t afraid of dealing with men trying to use connections.

To work at the brick kiln, applicants first had to pass an assessment.

If there were doubts about their character and solid evidence against them, they wouldn’t be hired.

Those who didn’t want to work hard and just wanted to slack off for money weren’t welcome.

But anyone who was honest and willing to work hard could join without needing any connections.

This way, the selection process wasn’t a problem.

They chose strong, hardworking people, and the lazy ones could only grumble in the village or envy from nearby.

Some wanted to copy this successful model, but the village leaders refused.

One brick kiln per village was enough; any more would cause conflicts.

Besides, the mountain behind the village provided enough soil for only one kiln.

Moreover, the brick kiln gave dividends to the village leaders, who had a certain quota of bricks and tiles to distribute, giving them both money and prestige, so they didn’t want to create trouble.

…

Once the brick kiln was running smoothly, Jiang Lin had an easier time.

She only needed to supervise occasionally, check if there were any issues to resolve, have lunch at home, and in the afternoon, visit the village embroidery workshop.

She designed new embroidery patterns, which Cheng Yunzhi then illustrated.

Jiang Lin discovered that Cheng Yunzhi had a strong cultural background.

Not only was his calligraphy excellent, but he also had a good grasp of traditional Chinese painting.

She enlisted Cheng Yunzhi to help draw the patterns, while Yan Runzhi led the village women who were skilled at embroidery.

After the women completed their work, Yan Runzhi and the old lady from the Shang family inspected the pieces.

The good ones were kept, while the subpar ones were either sent back for rework or resulted in a pay deduction.

The women embroidered while Cheng Yunzhi ran the village’s children’s class.

He taught Wen Sheng, Dabao, Xiaobao, and a few other children to read, write, and listen to stories.

Their busy, fulfilling days passed quickly. By 5 p.m., Jiang Lin would head home to prepare dinner.

Dabao and Xiaobao were debating the story they had created.

The story involved Dongsheng taking Linlin on a transportation adventure.

Dabao’s idea was that they caught a thief stealing goods, beat him up, and handed him over to the police.

Xiaobao suggested they should find a little sister to bring home for Dabao and Xiaobao to play with.

After much debate, Dabao changed the story to them capturing an alien thief, while Xiaobao changed it to them finding a baby sister named Baosheng.

Jiang Lin was speechless. “You two…”

These stories really are based on real life, but this is a bit much.

Do children’s stories always revolve around the people they know?

She glanced at Yan Runzhi.

Yan Runzhi laughed, “Dongsheng made up stories when he was little too. Building houses, getting married, singing about the moon, climbing mountains—he had a vivid imagination.”

Jiang Lin shuddered a bit.

Other children’s stories might just be stories, but Dongsheng’s stories always had an element of horror.

Yan Runzhi didn’t seem to notice and even hummed a little tune.

“Red moon rising, yellow moon crying, blue moon with no hair…” sang Wensheng.

Jiang Lin shuddered. “Stop singing, it’s creepy.”

Wen Sheng put a big hand on Jiang Lin’s shoulder. “Mom, are you cold?”

Jiang Lin replied, “Yes, it’s getting cold even though it hasn’t snowed yet.”

Wen Sheng grabbed her arm. “Let’s run, running will warm us up.”

As they ran, Dabao and Xiaobao chased after them, pretending to be dinosaurs and wolves, making growling and howling noises to match the wind and their footsteps.

When they got home, Wen Sheng told Dabao and Xiaobao to wash their hands and faces.

The two boys had become more sensible but also more mischievous after a trip to the city.

If you tried to scold them, they’d have a well-reasoned comeback.

Jiang Lin had a surefire way to handle them. “If you don’t behave, I won’t let you call me ‘Mom.'”

The two boys immediately hung their heads and obediently followed her instructions.

After all, she was their real mother.

Once they were clean, the children fiddled with the radio.

Since the village didn’t have electricity, they used batteries sparingly, only listening to a few interesting programs.

They could sometimes pick up foreign stations but couldn’t understand them.

Recently, Jiang Lin had been keeping an ear on the radio news.

The day they returned from the provincial capital, the central station announced the capture of the Gang of Four.

Since then, the radio had been filled with various criticisms and reports, reducing the number of songs and storytelling programs Dabao and Xiaobao liked.

Frustrated, they turned off the radio to save battery.

Lately, the songs and storytelling programs had resumed, much to the boys’ delight.

After listening, they would retell the stories to other children in the village.

They had become the heads of the Shuihuai Village Children’s Story Club.

They didn’t just repeat the stories; they added their own twists.

They gave more screen time to characters they liked and made life difficult for those they didn’t.

Their young minds, not fully grasping the stories, often added a humorous and playful touch.

For example, after hearing a story about “beating mandarin ducks with sticks” on the radio, the boys interpreted it as “beating ducks and white geese with sticks” and even turned it into “beating deer, especially silly deer!”

Listening to their chatter, Jiang Lin felt she could laugh like a silly deer herself.

Yan Runzhi and Cheng Yunzhi prepared dinner together.

At this time of year, there weren’t many fresh leafy vegetables left in the local gardens.

In winter, people usually ate dried beans and eggplant from the fall, or cabbage, tofu, radishes, carrots, and pumpkins.

Most families didn’t eat boiled cabbage every day; they might have it once every few days.

The rest of the time, they boiled sweet potatoes in various ways.

Since winter was a farming off-season and they didn’t work much, eating dry food was wasteful, so sweet potatoes became the staple.

However, those working at the brick kiln couldn’t go hungry; without enough strength, they couldn’t work, and if they couldn’t work, they couldn’t earn money.

Yan Runzhi made a dish of cabbage and tofu with a few slices of cured meat, steamed pumpkin on top, and green onions with eggs.

These days, they had a steady supply of eggs, and Jiang Lin didn’t sell them; she kept them for the family to eat.

Dinner was ready by around six o’clock when Jiang Xinglei came home, exhausted.

As soon as he stepped in, he smelled the delicious aroma of the cabbage, tofu, and cured meat stew.

Instantly energized, he exclaimed, “Auntie, you’re amazing! Everything you make smells so good.”