Go back in time and be a chaebol

Chapter 2757 A New Hope for Them (First Update, Please Subscribe)
"May the line of loyal descendants never end!"

After New Year's Day, this term sparked discussions across various sectors. Although there was some controversy, mainstream public opinion still supported it.

This tradition exists in both Eastern and Western countries, so it is easily accepted by society. However, even so, there is still some controversy in the media.

"The phrase 'not extinguishing the lineage of loyal subjects' means that the descendants of loyal ministers or virtuous officials will not be cut off. In ancient times, this often represented an extremely high honor or posthumous recognition..."

Listening to the news on TV, Du Chengbin was completely stunned. He didn't pay attention to the other content of the news or the arguments between the people. Only one thought remained in his mind.

"I can't believe it, I can't believe it's possible to do that."

He was so surprised because everything he had seen and heard since arriving in the country had far exceeded his expectations.

"Is this their method of winning people's hearts?"

Du Chengbin had this idea because he believed that doing so was simply a way to win people's hearts.

Just like the large sums of compensation they give to those people. Isn't it all just to win people's hearts, to make ordinary people willingly go and die?
The same applies now.

"To ensure that the lineage of loyal descendants is not severed... this is far too feudal."

While he was making these accusations, Du Chengbin was even secretly envious.

Of course, he didn't envy the dead; he said he envied the people who could come here and settle down because of them.

"Sigh, really, what's the point of all those people, all in their seventies and eighties, coming here?"

Du Chengbin couldn't help but complain:

"How much of the national pension fund are they wasting? You always say that money doesn't grow on trees, but nowadays, when it comes to spending the people's hard-earned money, you're so extravagant. It's simply a waste of their hard-earned money..."

While complaining about these things, Du Chengbin acted as if he cared about the hard-earned money of ordinary people, but in reality, only he knew that he was jealous!

Yes, those things that he could only dream of, those people in their seventies and eighties obtained just like that, without even having to pay a price.

But what about someone like him?

I'm a college student!

I'm still so young, I can create more value for this place, so logically I should be given priority!
Du Chengbin was very frustrated because obtaining a work permit and permanent residency was extremely difficult.

"As long as I work hard enough, I will definitely prove myself..."

Once again, Du Chengbin secretly vowed in his heart that he would be able to stay, as long as he was better than them.

But watching the news on TV and thinking about those who reap without sowing, he still felt envious.

"This... is fate!"

……

As dawn broke on the first day of the Lunar New Year, pale blue sunlight filtered through the mud-brick house's windows, which were covered with old newspapers, and into the empty room.
Looking at the sliver of light filtering through the window, Fang Siwei's cloudy gaze swept around the room. Apart from the wooden bed covered in straw, there was nothing else in the house. Only the quilt on the bed was a brand-new dark blue coarse cloth, soft and thick to the touch.

That was bought for him by those guests from abroad half a month ago—those people brought him the news he had been waiting for for decades, like a stone finally falling to the ground.

But it also made him completely lose hope.

"Hey……"

With a long sigh, Fang Siwei slowly sat up, propping himself up on his arms. He put on his old, patched cotton-padded coat, got out of bed, quickly washed his face and rinsed his mouth. Then he went to the stove, took a cornbread from the basket, and bit into it. It wasn't hot, so he drank some cold water, chewed slowly, and swallowed it. That was his New Year's breakfast.

Over the years, he has grown accustomed to this kind of life.

After finishing breakfast, Fang Siwei went outside. Above the door was a couplet, the red paper bearing strong and vigorous characters—it was written by him.

He hadn't held a calligraphy brush for many years, and the handle was a bit rusty. It wasn't until this year, when he heard the news, that he bought paper and a brush at the supply and marketing cooperative and wrote this couplet stroke by stroke.

The couplets are plain, but they add a touch of everyday life and a sense of nostalgia for the past.

Turning back into the house, Fang Siwei took a stack of prepared fire paper, tucked it into his pocket, and headed towards the fields outside the village.

The dirt road was covered with snow and a thin layer of ice, crunching underfoot. The cold wind stung our faces like tiny knives. We hadn't walked far when we saw several children playing in an open space by the roadside. They were all wearing ill-fitting, tattered cotton-padded jackets, with cotton peeking out from the patches, and their little faces were red from the cold.

Looking at the children, Fang Siwei's eyes softened considerably. He stopped and took out a handful of candies wrapped in a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his cotton-padded coat. He had bought them at the supply and marketing cooperative a few days ago, and the wrapping paper was rather simple.

"Kids, come on, have a piece of candy."

Fang Siwei's voice was a little hoarse, with a hint of gentleness that was hard to detect.

As soon as the children saw the candy, they swarmed around Fang Siwei, chattering excitedly. Their little hands were red from the cold, but they quickly took the candy, constantly chanting auspicious phrases like "Happy New Year." Just then, Chunsheng, a slightly older boy in the crowd, frowned and shouted:

"This is Black Dog's candy... No need to thank me, it's free!" The child's words froze Fang Siwei's smile. His outstretched hand, which was about to hand over the candy, paused in mid-air, and the pain that flashed in his cloudy eyes was hard to hide.

This...this is what his son earned with his life. Half a month ago, the person delivering the death notice handed him an envelope containing a thousand yuan.

Although the other party said that someone would contact him later to discuss follow-up matters, Fang Siwei knew that this was his son's compensation money.

One thousand yuan!
That's already a lot.

For a countryman, a thousand yuan is a huge sum of money, which is why he bought these candies, thinking that he would give them to everyone he met during the New Year.

But who would have thought...

He forced a bitter smile and said repeatedly:

"Yes, yes, you're welcome, you're too kind."

The children didn't notice anything amiss and ran off to play with their candy. Only Chunsheng stubbornly glared at him, his eyes filled with hostility.

Fang Siwei simply sighed and continued walking towards the field.

Finally, they arrived at the gravesite. On the first day of the Lunar New Year, when people went to visit graves, the villagers were all in groups, chatting and laughing. Only Fang Siwei was all alone, with no one to accompany him and no one to greet him.

He walked to an inconspicuous corner where several small graves stood, overgrown with withered yellow weeds.

Fang Siwei took out the paper money from his pocket, laid it out in front of each grave, and lit it.

After burning the paper money, he sat down in front of a small grave—his wife's grave. He gently patted the soil on the grave mound, and spoke softly, his tone as calm as if he were having a casual conversation:
“Honey, Quanfu is really gone. He died thirty-five years ago. A while ago, those people from abroad brought his death notice… I’ve waited so many years, and finally I have some definite news.”

The wind was still blowing, ruffling Fang Siwei's white hair. He sat there, talking to his wife who had passed away many years ago, about the loneliness of the past few years, and about news of his son. He didn't cry or sob; he was just calm.

People who were visiting graves nearby passed by, but they only glanced at him briefly before hurrying away. No one stopped to say a word to him, even though government officials and foreigners had recently delivered the death notice to him, informing him that his son had died abroad.

But is this a good thing?

His son was a foreign soldier who died abroad. What else could he be but a traitor?
So, just like before, even now the village still doesn't welcome him. Even when a doorman burns paper money, no one calls out to him.

Everything is the same as before.

Just as Fang Siwei was sitting by the grave talking to his wife, a jeep drove into the village. The team leader, who had just finished visiting the grave, saw a car parked in the village and hurriedly ran over to greet the leader who had come from who-knows-where.

When he arrived at the location, the township leaders and a county leader had already gotten out of the car.

"Fang Dasheng, come here quickly..."

As soon as the township leaders saw the team leader, they called out and asked:
"Here you are, here you are, Township Head! What brings you here at this hour?"

Fang Dasheng saw two more people get out of the car. Unlike the township head and the others, who were wearing faded clothes, these two were wearing woolen overcoats.

Judging from his clothes, he's no ordinary person.

"Where does Fang Siwei live? Is he home? Take us there."

"You mean him? He's visiting a grave... No, no, he's working in the fields, working..."

Fang Dasheng's explanation made the township head frown, and he said:

"Going to the grave is fine, what's wrong with that? Alright, hurry up and send someone to call them. These two are foreign guests from Kunming. They came all the way here during the Lunar New Year. Don't delay them."

Another foreign guest!
Fang Dasheng began to wonder, what's wrong with Fang Siwei?
A few days ago, several foreign guests came, accompanied by leaders, to deliver the news of his son's death. And now? More foreign guests have arrived.

Are these foreign visitors just bored and have nothing better to do?

Thinking this to himself, Fang Dasheng still sent someone to the fields to call for Fang Siwei. Then he led them to Fang Siwei's house. The two foreign guests frowned as they looked at the low mud-brick house where he lived.

"He's really had a tough time."

"Look at what you're saying, we all live in the same house," Fang Dasheng thought to himself. Soon, Fang Siwei arrived. When he reached the door and bowed to greet the team leader, the team leader said:

"This is our township head, this is a leader from the county, and these two..."

Before Fang Dasheng could introduce them, the two men stepped forward and said:

“Mr. Fang, we are staff members from the SEA Office of the British Embassy. We are here to help you with your passport and immigration matters.”

What kind of immigration?
Before Fang Siwei could figure it out, the people around him were also confused. What was immigration? Soon, after learning from the other party's explanation that Fang Siwei could go abroad, everyone looked at him with envy.

Just as everyone was admiring him, they heard the man say again:
"...Considering that Sergeant Fang Guoqiang has no children, and based on the principle of ensuring the continuation of the family line, you may adopt a son for him in Sergeant Fang Guoqiang's name..."

(End of this chapter)