Chapter Thirty-Seven: Receiving the Letter

Han Li found himself surrounded by a group of middle-aged women teasing him, leaving him both amused and helpless. Fortunately, this awkward moment was brief, as the three leaders of Shanghe Village soon arrived. Once everyone had gathered, they began the daily routine of motivational speeches. Tasks were assigned, tools distributed to those who needed them, while others worked barehanded.

Today, the third team was particularly unlucky—they were sent to the soybean fields to catch pests. This involved searching back and forth among the soybean leaves, finding the insects, and crushing them by hand. The sensation was unpleasantly soft, and the squelching sound as they were killed, accompanied by the wet, yellow-green smear left on the hands, made the work truly revolting. After a full day of such labor, one might not even have an appetite for dinner, and when lying on the kang at night, visions of crawling insects would fill the mind.

Yet, the soybean fields held some treasures: the big locusts and the so-called "oil crickets." Both insects liked to linger among the soybeans. At this time, the big locusts and the chirping male crickets weren't especially popular—they weren’t particularly tasty. But the female crickets were highly sought after, their bellies full of eggs. After catching them, they would be roasted over a low flame, and biting into their abdomen was said to be incredibly delicious. Deep frying them with a sprinkle of salt made them even better, but oil was scarce in these times, and no one could bear to use it for such a luxury. Adults would string them on foxtail grass and take them home at noon for their children to roast and eat.

Not long after work began, Hao Hongmin and another teammate from Han Li’s group couldn’t hold back and vomited. Their retching was accompanied by laughter from the older women.

“I knew this would happen—most of the new educated youths can’t get through this trial.”

“Han Li is a good one; he’s lasted this long without trouble.”

“So many educated youths have come to our village, but only a few are like Han Li.”

Han Li wasn’t feeling great himself, but he managed to push through. Hearing the teasing, he could only smile lightly and avoid engaging, knowing the women would steer the conversation towards more disgusting topics if he did.

There was one upside to this pest-catching labor—it saved water. Hardly anyone stopped to drink or slack off, not even the village women, showing how much the yellow-green mess affected everyone’s appetite.

By noon, Hao Hongmei and Yang Xiuying still hadn’t recovered their color. Han Li went home and washed his hands several times with soap, but still had little appetite.

Just then, two little sparrows flew in, chirping that they’d found a patch of ripe "black heaven" by the riverbank. Known by its scientific name as nightshade, it was also called black star, wild eggplant, black maiden, ground bubble, lantern grass, and more. Han Li, in his two lifetimes, had never tasted this wild fruit, and his interest was piqued. Slinging his bag, he followed the sparrows out. At the site, he was disappointed—the ripe fruit was blackish-purple, the unripe ones green, but all were tiny, barely the size of mung beans. Handling them stained both hands and mouth, and their taste was unremarkable, suitable only for the occasional snack.

Han Li collected all the nightshade berries one by one and stored them away, washed his hands at the river, and returned home. Whether he ate or not didn’t matter; at least he could catch a nap.

Back home, he found himself a bit hungry, but didn’t want to cook. Instead, he sliced a tomato, sprinkled some sugar on it, and paired it with two steamed buns for a simple lunch.

The afternoon brought more pest-catching in the soybean fields. This time, he could sit on the ground and slack off a bit. The dense soybean plants hid him well; unless the team leader came close, he wouldn’t be noticed.

He listened to the women gossiping about village affairs, dragging out the work leisurely until the end of the shift.

Han Li borrowed a mattock from the warehouse and carried it home. He planned to work the plot in his yard, preparing it for planting radishes and cabbage in a few days—crucial for winter vegetables.

Back home, Han Li stripped to the waist and began tilling the earth, combining work with practicing his martial skills. He planted his feet firmly, toes activating calves, calves engaging thighs, then transferring force to his waist. With a gentle twist, the power surged to his arms, swinging the mattock in a broad arc and plunging it deep into the soil. Using the recoil, he flipped the earth, then shifted back slightly and repeated the motion.

The more he worked, the smoother his movements became; his arms spun like windmills, feet gliding backward at a steady pace, rhythm growing ever more coordinated. The soil was overturned row by row, and soon he’d finished one line.

Just as he turned to start the next, someone called his name from outside.

“Han Li, Hao Hongmin, Yang Xiuying, Sun Yong, Wei Chunlan—come out and get your letters and parcel slips!”

Han Li grabbed a towel, dipped it in the basin, and wiped the sweat from his body. Pulling on a vest, he headed outside. There, a man in a postman’s uniform sat astride a sturdy bicycle. The others whose names had been called were already collecting their mail.

“Han Li?”

“Yes.”

“Since it’s your first time, I need to see your educated youth certificate.”

Han Li showed his certificate and received six letters and a parcel slip.

“I’ve never seen a youth like you—though the lotus letters were delayed for two days, I’ve never delivered so many at once before.”

“Thank you, brother,” Han Li replied, “Maybe I have a few more friends than average.”

Yang Xiuying chimed in, “Han Li, you must be popular—so many people writing to you.”

Han Li glanced at the addresses; four letters were from the capital, the rest from his province—probably classmates he met on the train.

“Most are classmates who came to the countryside together. We agreed to keep in touch, but I forgot about it.”

Yang Xiuying complained, “You got six letters and a parcel slip, Hongmin got two, but why do I only have one?”

Hao Hongmin was beaming with her two letters. Hearing Yang Xiuying shift the topic to her, she quickly redirected it to Han Li.

“I heard noise from your yard—what were you doing? Need any help?”