“Auntie Zhang, I was wondering why you’re always clinging to our wall—turns out you’ve been eavesdropping!” Jiang Le smiled sweetly at Zhang Xiuhui. “Who would’ve thought that at your age, you’d still have so much energy? My parents come home after work every day, eat a quick meal, and collapse into bed. They’re honest folk, always giving their all for the team.”  

Wasn’t that just calling Zhang Xiuhui lazy during work hours?  

In these times, hard work was a point of pride—unlike modern days, where being called lazy might not even sting. Back then, slackers were openly scorned.  

Especially since everyone worked together—if Zhang Xiuhui slacked off, others had to pick up her slack.  

Sun Yulan had been wanting to say something earlier but hadn’t gotten the chance. Now that the opportunity arose, she jumped in: “Exactly! Just yesterday, I saw Zhang Xiuhui sitting around for ages under the guise of drinking water. Everyone else was working hard—I only noticed because I happened to be thirsty too.”  

With that, Jiang Le didn’t even need to say more. The others immediately started mocking Zhang Xiuhui:  

“No wonder I’m always completely exhausted after work, barely able to speak, while Zhang Xiuhui still has so much energy to chatter away. Turns out she’s saving her strength by slacking off!”  

“Just like young Jiang said—if she’s not working properly during the day, of course she’s got energy to spy on people’s private lives!”  

Those who worked hard every day couldn’t stomach the thought of Zhang Xiuhui skimping on her duties. The criticism came fast and sharp.  

As for Zhang Xiuhui’s accusations—that Zhao Meilian had a lover or that Jiang Le stole things—most people didn’t believe it. Hadn’t Jiang De already spoken up? If Zhao Meilian really had a lover, Jiang De wouldn’t have stood for it—he wasn’t stupid.  

And Jiang Le stealing? That was even more ridiculous. Hadn’t Xu Youcai, who falsely accused Jiang Le of stealing eggs, ended up shoveling manure? The stench still clung to him.  

Besides, meat was precious these days. If someone’s went missing, the whole village would know—yet no one had reported any thefts.  

Compared to baseless rumors, people were far angrier about the undeniable truth of Zhang Xiuhui’s laziness.  

With the crowd seething, even those who usually got along with Zhang Xiuhui didn’t dare defend her, afraid of being labeled lazy too.  

Zhang Xiuhui hadn’t expected Jiang Le’s words to turn the entire crowd against her. Furious, she shrieked, “You little bastard! Spouting nonsense—I’ll rip your filthy mouth apart!”  

The moment her son was insulted, Zhao Meilian lunged forward. “Zhang Xiuhui! Who are you calling a bastard? You’re the damn old hag!”  

As the two women grappled, Wang Dazhu stepped in, shoving Jiang Le with a glare. But to his shock, the moment his hand made contact, Jiang Le crumpled to the ground.  

Wang Dazhu, unfamiliar with the art of strategic falling, stared at his hand in confusion: “???” Had he really pushed that hard?

At that moment, Village Chief Zhao Mancang and the Party Secretary arrived.  

Seeing Zhang Xiuhui and Zhao Meilian tangled up in a fight, Zhao Mancang immediately raised his voice: “What’s going on here?! How old are you two? Acting like children—stop it right now! Zhang Xiuhui, what are you clawing at? I said stop!”  

No matter what, the village chief’s authority had to be respected. The two women reluctantly separated. Zhang Xiuhui was just about to start wailing and playing the victim when Jiang Huan, kneeling beside Jiang Le—who was still lying dramatically on the ground—burst into loud sobs:  

“Waaah! My poor little brother! Are you okay?! You bullies… you’re such bullies…!”  

Jiang Le, the master of strategic theatrics, coughed weakly. “…I’m fine.”  

Jiang Huan ignored him, crying even harder. “How can you be fine?! Look how pale you are!”  

The Party Secretary, remembering Jiang Le’s previous head injury, frowned deeply. “What happened here?!”  

Wang Dazhu, the burly man who had “pushed” Jiang Le, panicked. “Secretary, I swear I barely touched him!”  

The Secretary wasn’t buying it. “Barely touched him, and he ended up like this? Wang Dazhu, do you take me for a fool?”  

Wang Dazhu was at a loss for words. He wanted to jump in frustration—he’d really done nothing!  

“You little bastard, quit faking!” Zhang Xiuhui screeched in rage.  

It was a testament to her lack of tact that she dared curse like this in front of the village leadership. Predictably, both officials’ expressions darkened.  

Even Zhao Mancang, who had never been particularly fond of the Jiang family, scowled. “Zhang Xiuhui, look at yourself! How are you any different from the old landlords who oppressed the common folk? Your ideology is clearly flawed—you need labor reform!”  

The moment those words left his mouth, Zhang Xiuhui’s face drained of color. All her earlier bravado vanished. “Wh-what landlords?! My family’s got nothing to do with them…!”  

Zhao Mancang snapped, “I’m talking about your behavior!”  

Zhang Xiuhui shrank back, finally silent.  

Jiang Le, sensing that he might be overdoing it, decided to wrap up his performance. He stood up, offering the Secretary a frail smile. “Uncle Secretary, I’m alright. Brother Dazhu just gave me a little push—it’s nothing serious…”  

Then, with a hint of grievance, he added, “Ever since Xu Youcai hit me, my health hasn’t been great. I keep feeling dizzy. He did compensate me with ten yuan, so Grandma thought I should eat better. We’ve had meat a few times lately, but I never thought Auntie Zhang would take issue with it… Uncle Secretary, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have eaten meat. Even if I’m still weak, it doesn’t matter—I shouldn’t have upset Auntie Zhang…”  

Look what they’ve reduced this child to! The idea that someone couldn’t even eat meat in the village was absurd. If word got out, how would other villages see them? Their reputation would be ruined—future marriage prospects for their young people would suffer!  

The Secretary’s anger flared. “Wang Shitou, is this how you let your wife behave? That money Jiang Le used for meat was compensation from Xu Youcai! How shameless can you two be, obsessing over a child’s nutritional needs?!”  

Wang Shitou’s face burned with humiliation. When Zhang Xiuhui opened her mouth to argue, he yanked her arm, silencing her.

Zhao Mancang frowned. This couldn’t go on—everyone was too busy watching the drama, neglecting the fields.  

He kicked Wang Dazhu. “You’re over twenty years old, yet you’re still causing trouble with your mother? Where’s your brain? Apologize, now!”  

Grudgingly, Wang Dazhu muttered an apology, and Zhang Xiuhui was also forced to bow her head and apologize to the Jiang family.  

Now, everyone understood the truth: Zhang Xiuhui had been jealous of the Jiangs eating meat every day and had deliberately stirred up trouble.  

But in the end, that meat had been bought with Xu Youcai’s compensation money. Tsk, look at how weak young Jiang Le is—he really does need to build up his strength.  

However, the matter wasn’t over yet. Someone immediately reported Zhang Xiuhui’s habitual laziness during work hours to the village chief and Party Secretary.  

The solution was simple: “From now until the wheat harvest, Zhang Xiuhui’s family will work an extra hour after everyone else leaves. Who’s willing to supervise her?”  

Plenty of volunteers jumped at the opportunity. Zhao Mancang randomly picked one—coincidentally, it was Sun Yulan. 

When Zhang Xiuhui saw who it was, her vision darkened. She nearly fainted on the spot.  

“Alright, alright, enough gawking! Get back to work!” Zhao Mancang waved his hand, dispersing the crowd.  

Zhang Xiuhui shot a venomous glare at the Jiangs, grinding her teeth. “Just you wait!”  

Oho, still spouting threats?

Jiang Huan, standing nearby, lifted her chin and glared right back.  

“Son, are you really okay?” Zhao Meilian, Jiang De, and Jiang Junqing still had to rush to work, but they hurried over first to check on Jiang Le.  

Meeting his family’s worried eyes, Jiang Le coughed lightly and whispered, “I’m fine—it was all an act. I’m perfectly fine.”  

The Jiang family: “…!” You can do that?! 

Relieved, they finally relaxed.  

Meanwhile, Guagua was fuming in Jiang Le’s mind:  

[Host! Zhang Xiuhui is too much!]  

Jiang Le nodded.  

[Judging by her attitude, this still won’t teach her a lesson.] 

Guagua fretted:  

[Then what do we do?]

Having Zhang Xiuhui’s family as neighbors meant the Jiangs were constantly under surveillance. Even if nothing happened, it was downright unsettling.  

Jiang Le already had a plan in mind. He’d hesitated earlier, wondering if it was too harsh—but now? [Don’t worry, she’ll soon be too busy to keep an eye on us.]

Guagua was about to ask curiously when it suddenly gasped: [Host! Host! Turn around—I see the male lead! The male lead is here!]  

After all, this was the original novel’s protagonist, the absolute central figure. Guagua couldn’t help but get excited.  

Jiang Le spun around and saw a young man standing beside Zhao Mancang. As the male lead of the novel, Zhao Zhenghua was dressed sharply—white shirt, black trousers—with thick eyebrows, bright eyes, and handsome features. He really was a looker.  

Zhao Mancang had always been proud of his son. Standing beside him now, his face crinkled into a grin.  

Jiang Le had read My 1970s mainly because he couldn’t stand the typical male-oriented novels where the protagonist collected a harem left and right. Compared to those, he preferred the female-oriented platform’s 1v1 romances.  

My 1970s was a rebirth revenge story centered on Zhao Zhenghua. Most of the plot focused on how he clawed his way up from nothing to become a tycoon, with only a small portion dedicated to his romance with the female lead, Lin Banxue.  

Zhao Zhenghua wasn’t the devoted, love-struck male lead often seen in romance novels. In fact, his initial approach to the female lead was calculated and self-serving.  

Ruthless, pragmatic, and ambitious—many readers loved him for it. After endless stories with cookie-cutter devoted male leads, they found this refreshing. Finally, a protagonist who’s not a simp!

But some parts of the story made Jiang Le uncomfortable. If not for Yu Hezhong’s subplot, he might not have finished it.  

Noticing Jiang Le’s gaze, Zhao Zhenghua glanced over. His brows furrowed slightly at the sight of Jiang Le, his eyes flashing with disdain before he looked away, as if Jiang Le wasn’t even worth a second of his attention.  

Jiang Le: Classic male lead behavior.  

Guagua, fiercely protective, was livid: [What gives him the right to look down on you?!] 

Neither of them noticed Yu Hezhong watching Jiang Le quietly from the corner.