Chapter 34
Wang Chenye changed the topic suddenly.
“From now on, don’t say anything about other women. I’m clean and innocent.”
Fang Zhijie thought he was angry and didn’t like talking about men and women.
“That’s not what I meant. I just think you’re thoughtful and considerate, so of course women would like you. If I were a woman, I’d definitely like you too.”
Wang Chenye’s gloomy expression cleared up instantly.
“Now that’s something I like to hear.”
Fang Zhijie didn’t catch the hidden meaning behind his words. He just grinned foolishly, thinking his words had successfully cheered Wang Chenye up — completely unaware of the other meaning implied.
“All right,” Wang Chenye said, “can you still go to work? If it’s too bad, just take a day off.”
Fang Zhijie waved his hands quickly. “No way! The other female educated youths have blisters worse than mine. If I — a man — take a break because of one blood blister, that’d be too shameful!”
“No, no, it’s just a small injury. It wouldn’t look good to ask for leave after only a few days here.”
Wang Chenye nodded. “If you really can’t do it, go rest. I’ll work in your place.”
At that, Fang Zhijie’s eyes lit up. He gave Wang Chenye a heavy slap on the back.
“Now that’s what I call brotherhood!” he said, grinning wide, his arm slung around Wang Chenye’s shoulder.
Wang Chenye pushed his arm off, his face serious.
“I don’t want to be brothers with you.”
Fang Zhijie froze for a moment, not sure how to respond. He even thought Wang Chenye was joking.
“Don’t be so serious — if we’re not brothers, then what else can we be?”
Wang Chenye’s eyes changed — the look in them took on a new meaning.
“You could try thinking of… other intimate kinds of relationships to define us.”
Fang Zhijie still didn’t understand. He nodded earnestly and said,
“Oh, okay. I’ll think about it carefully when I get back.”
Wang Chenye couldn’t help it — he covered his mouth and burst out laughing.
A group of them soon arrived at the several acres of peanut fields. The work itself wasn’t difficult — just monotonous, mind-numbing repetition.
Liu Chunwen held Chen Pingping’s hand and said, swinging their arms,
“Look at this! How many days do you think it’ll take to pull up all these peanuts?”
Most of the people there were young educated youths like them, along with a few local farmers who had come to show them how to harvest properly.
Jiang Heng stood up front with a loudspeaker and announced,
“Today’s task is to finish pulling up all the peanuts, so we can move on to the next stage.”
No one responded. All the educated youths just stared at him.
Jiang Heng, as usual, kept his face stiff and serious. The village committee and commune leaders all acknowledged his capability — but there was one thing they didn’t like about him:
He was too cold.
As they often said, a people’s cadre must be kind and approachable to connect with the masses. But Jiang Heng’s perpetually dark, stern expression was enough to make anyone afraid of him.
Jiang Heng himself couldn’t understand what the problem was. He was just born with this face — what was he supposed to do, change it?
Fragments of memory flickered in his mind — memories that reminded him he hadn’t always been like this. Only around one particular person had he ever been different.
Now, looking at the discontent on the educated youths’ faces, he knew they were reaching their limit.
One of them, Hong Junmin, stepped forward and said,
“We came to the countryside to learn, not to be treated as laborers!”
Many of the others nodded. They hadn’t studied for years just to do fieldwork like this. Another reason for their dissatisfaction was that Jiang Heng was close to their age. If he were an older man, a senior from the village, they might have respected him more — but to take orders from someone their peer, and a rough country fellow at that, was a blow to their pride.
Hong Junmin raised his voice.
“We protest! You said we’d all be working together, but all you do is give orders! Don’t tell me, Captain Jiang — you don’t actually know how to work, huh? All you can do is boss people around?”
His words struck a chord with many of the others. Emboldened by their support, Hong Junmin grew louder and louder.
Jiang Heng stayed silent.
Hong Junmin took that as a sign of guilt — that Jiang Heng was too ashamed to speak.
But Jiang Heng’s dark eyes were calm as still water. He didn’t even seem to take them seriously. With his arms crossed, he looked down at them with quiet authority.
Suddenly, Hong Junmin felt ridiculous — like a clown performing in front of a stone wall. What was going on? Jiang Heng was just a rough villager — why did he feel so intimidating?
“Well then,” Jiang Heng said evenly, “didn’t you want to work? Let’s work together.”
His tone wasn’t loud, but it carried the undeniable weight of an order.
Hong Junmin’s gaze followed him as Jiang Heng walked into the peanut field.
“Start.”
And just like that — the same youths who’d been shouting moments ago suddenly bent down and began pulling up peanuts. It was like their bodies obeyed his voice instinctively.
Jiang Heng joined in as well, but compared to these rookies, he was a seasoned master.
In just ten minutes, while the others hadn’t even finished a sixth of their row, Jiang Heng had already completed an entire one.
Hong Junmin looked up, jaw hanging open in disbelief.
He and Jiang Heng had started at the same time — how could he already be done?
Jiang Heng’s face barely glistened with sweat. He lifted a peanut plant, gave it a few quick shakes, and all the pods came clean off in a single motion.
“See that?” he said. “It’s simple work. If such a small task makes you complain this much, how can you claim to bring new life to the countryside? How can you live up to all that education you’re so proud of?”
Hong Junmin muttered resentfully,
“Captain Jiang, you grew up in the countryside. Of course you’re used to this. You can’t compare us — we’ve had higher education.”
He couldn’t stand Jiang Heng — every word he said was meant to contrast his own “educated youth” status with Jiang Heng’s “rough peasant” background.
Jiang Heng’s expression stayed icy. His features hardened.
“Then let’s start with the basics of agricultural knowledge,” he said calmly. “Since you’re all educated, it should be easy for you to understand and improve your efficiency.”
Hong Junmin was still unconvinced, but he didn’t dare get too close — Jiang Heng’s piercing gaze alone was enough to make his heart tremble.
“To judge a leader’s ability,” Hong said, “you need to look not just at how well he executes tasks, but at his knowledge. You’re just a brute — don’t tell me you’re illiterate too?”
His eyes swept up and down Jiang Heng’s figure, practically spelling the word illiterate across his face.
Jiang Heng let out a low, contemptuous laugh.
“For someone who’s read so many books, your vision is still as small as your heart.
Do you work for me? Do we harvest grain just for my benefit?”
Everyone fell silent. They knew he was right.
This was the era of the planned economy — grain was the lifeblood of the nation.
Harvesting it wasn’t optional. It was a duty, a mission that had to be completed no matter what.
Jiang Heng stepped forward. His tall figure completely overshadowed Hong Junmin’s thin frame.
The air around him radiated quiet menace, making everyone instinctively shrink back. His eyes alone were enough to make people avert their gaze.
“Now,” he said, his voice low but firm,
“do you still have any questions?”
