My era, 1979!

Chapter 6 Group Portrait
In mid-June 1979, the sun in Fengyang, Anhui Province, was so scorching that it felt like it was baking people until they were oozing oil.

Xu Chengjun's hands, which were gripping the hoe, had developed three layers of calluses.

The straw rope had left purplish-red marks on his hands and feet, and sweat dripped down his chin into the freshly plowed stubble field, where the soil was scorching hot from the sun.

Who says farmers don't work hard? They should all be sent to the 70s for re-education!
"Chengjun! The speed at which you clear wheat stubble is like embroidery! If you slow down any longer, you won't be able to catch up with the summer corn planting!"

Zhao Gang's loud voice came from the diagonal front.

He was shirtless, sweat dripping down his bronze back, and wielded the hoe quickly and fiercely—he was truly a master.

After saying that, he realized his words lacked motivation, so he added, "If we're any slower, we'll miss dinner! The cafeteria is steaming white flour buns today!"

However, while it's called white flour, these days it's probably more accurate to call it gray flour.

Xu Chengjun straightened up, his tall figure standing out conspicuously in the waist-high wheat fields.

He thought to himself: Am I that kind of person? Absolutely not!

He just swung the hoe three times faster!

On the eastern ridge, team leader Xu Laoshi was squatting on the ground picking up ears of wheat.

Even a half-grain of wheat that had fallen into the mud would be picked up by his rough fingers, blow off the dirt, and stuffed into his pocket.

"Every grain of wheat is worth a drop of sweat; wasting it will bring divine retribution."

The old man was muttering to himself.

The scene to the west, however, is quite different.

Li Erwa leaned against the bundle of wheat, his straw hat pulled up over his face, and a stalk of wheat dangling from his mouth.

The wheat ridges at my feet were crooked and uneven, clearly indicating that I had done half an inch less work than others.

"Erwa! Slacking off again!" Xu Laoshi tapped his pipe against the sole of his shoe.

"If you keep dawdling, half of your work points will be deducted tonight!"

Li Erwa muttered as he sat up, glancing at the threshing ground in the distance: "Captain, I'm saving my energy so I can carry bundles of wheat later! That's where I really show my skills."

Even so, he still wielded the hoe slowly.

Everyone knows that he wants to wait for others to get ahead so that he can avoid doing too much himself.

Xu Chengjun lowered his head and continued to dig up the wheat stubble, a slight smile involuntarily appearing on his lips.

This is the daily life in Xujiatun: there are people like Zhao Gang who work hard and honestly, people like Xu Laoshi who treat food as their life, and people like Li Erwa who take shortcuts.

Like a vivid painting.

During the midday break, the ridges between the fields were instantly filled with people.

Zhao Gang took out a military water bottle from his canvas bag, unscrewed the cap and handed it over: "Have a sip, my mom made this mint water, it'll help you relax."

Xu Chengjun took it and drank two mouthfuls. The cool breath slid down his throat, making him shiver with pleasure.

Qian Ming squatted to the side, a high school mathematics book open on his lap, working out exercises in the shade of the tree.

His glasses had a crack, which he repeatedly taped back on, but it didn't affect his focused gaze at all.

"I still don't understand how you explained the auxiliary lines for this trigonometric function problem yesterday."

He poked at the draft paper with his pen, "Like the angle of this wheat field, how do you convert it into degrees?"

"Look at the wheat sheaf where Li Erwa is lying,"

Xu Chengjun gestured westward, "The angle between the bundle of wheat he rested on and his body was about 30 degrees. The opposite side was the height of the bundle of wheat, and the hypotenuse was his body length. sin30° is equal to the opposite side divided by the hypotenuse, which is exactly 0.5."

Qian Ming's eyes lit up, and he quickly drew it on the paper, muttering to himself, "It's so simple! You really know how to find examples."

This is so bad that even a middle school student in the 21st century could teach you!
Qian Ming suddenly lowered his voice: "I heard on the radio yesterday that Beijing Foreign Language Institute is expanding its enrollment this year, and English majors will have to take an oral exam. I'm afraid my accent will be a disadvantage."

"fine."

Xu Chengjun patted him on the shoulder, "Let's go to the brigade headquarters tonight. There's an old radio there that can pick up English lectures from the Central People's Broadcasting Station. You can practice with those and you'll be fine."

"If all else fails, you still have me as your sparring partner!"

In fact, Qian Ming's English foundation is quite solid. What he lacks is context. If he can fill this gap, he will at least have no problem getting into Beijing Foreign Studies University.

Not far away, Xu Laoshi was sharing sweet potatoes with several women.

Xinghua held a large, rough porcelain bowl and handed the two largest sweet potatoes to Xu Chengjun: "My mother steamed them this morning; they're very sweet once they've cooled down."

Her wrists were stained with wheat chaff, and the red ribbon in her hair was faded, but it was still tied neatly.

“Give one to Li Erwa too.”

Xu Laoshi gestured with his chin in that direction.

Li Erwa was secretly stuffing wheat ears into his pocket when he heard this. He quickly pulled his hand out and chuckled as he took the wheat, saying, "The aunties are so kind to us."

Xu Chengjun took a bite of sweet potato, the sweet juice dripping down his chin. He gazed at the scene before him.

Mr. Xu carefully counted the sweet potatoes he had divided, afraid that he might give too many to someone.

Zhao Gang was competing with someone to see whose hoe was faster.

Xinghua bent down and wove a small basket with wheat straw, her fingers moving with a nimble and skillful hand.

Qian Ming buried himself in his work, occasionally glancing up at the sun.

Even Li Erwa was behaving himself, burying sweet potato peels in the soil while muttering, "To be used as fertilizer for the wheat."

The people on this land are like the wheat in this field; some are plump, some are shriveled, but all are striving to grow.
-
The threshing ground became the liveliest place in the evening.

The commune members were carrying the last batch of dried wheat grains into the warehouse. The sound of wooden shovels turning the wheat grains was rustling, and the marks of the wheat harvest were still visible on the canvas.

The threshing machine had been washed clean and was placed upside down in the corner, the wheat residue on the iron shell turned white from the sun.

Although the wheat harvest is over, the field still smells of wheat.

Xu Chengjun and Zhao Gang worked with their heads down, the wheat grains thrown up by their wooden shovels shimmering in the setting sun, like scattered gold dust.

"Chengjun, how much of this wheat do you think we can get?"

Zhao Gang wiped his sweat. "Last year, the yield per mu was only 300 jin. If we can harvest 50 jin more this year, my family will be able to save enough money to help my brother get married."

"Yes," Xu Chengjun said confidently. "This year's wheat seeds are good, and the weather has been favorable, so we're sure to have a good harvest."

He recalled the "high-quality seeds" he had started with, and the "group fertilization" that Xu Laoshi had secretly implemented. These subtle changes were all moving in a positive direction.

Li Erwa stood to the side with his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on Wang Laosi, the warehouse keeper who was weighing the goods.

Wang Laosi was weighing wheat grains with a steelyard balance, the weight pressing low as he loudly announced the number: "Third team, 1200 jin!"

Li Erwa suddenly shouted, "Uncle Wang, is your scale inaccurate? It looks a little short!"

Old Wang glared at him: "Stop talking nonsense, kid! This scale has been used for ten years, it's very accurate! If you don't believe me, come and weigh yourself!"

As he spoke, he handed the scale beam to Li Erwa.

Li Erwa quickly waved his hand: "I was just saying. I trust Uncle Wang to handle things!"

Everyone around laughed; everyone knew he was just trying to find fault and ask for a few more kilograms.

Xinghua and several girls came over carrying water, each of them holding an earthenware pot.

"Have some water and rest."

She handed the jar to Xu Chengjun, her fingertips accidentally touching his hand, and she quickly pulled them back.

"My mom said the wheat seeds in the warehouse need to be dried for another two days, so she wants you to come and help turn them over as soon as possible. You have a good eye; you can tell if the moisture has dissipated enough."

"Okay." Xu Chengjun took the water jug. "Tell your aunt to get some rest too, so she doesn't tire herself out."

It was late at night, but the kerosene lamps at the educated youth settlement were still lit.

Zhao Gang and the other two educated youths were already fast asleep, their snores rising and falling.

Xu Chengjun sat in front of the wooden box, writing something on a piece of paper by the light of the lamp.

Plans for late June:
I get up early every day to tutor Qian Ming in math.

After dinner, I went to the brigade headquarters to listen to the English broadcast and catch up on news from the outside world.
Wait for news from "Anhui Literature" to study the recommendation system policy.

July Plans:
He returned to the county town to visit his parents and sister, and to collect materials about the factories and schools in the county town.

The specific application process for Fudan University's "Worker-Peasant-Soldier Recommendation" program has been determined.

"You've thought of that quite thoroughly, but it still depends on whether you have me in your heart." Qian Ming smiled as if he had stolen a chicken.

"You have to be aware of it."

Xu Chengjun folded the paper and put it into his notebook.

“In this day and age, opportunities don’t wait for anyone. Look at Li Erwa, he’s always thinking about taking advantage, but when it comes to distributing grain, no one will give him even half a grain more.”

Qian Ming nodded and went back to working on the problem.

The moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the two of them.

The barking of dogs could be heard from the threshing ground in the distance.

Xu Chengjun gazed at the wheat field outside the window; the wheat ears swayed gently in the evening breeze.

The current busy farming season is just a fragment of a long period of time.

As long as you keep moving forward steadily, you will eventually reach the place you want to go.

Like a sickle in your hand, the brighter it is, the more steadily it cuts.

(End of this chapter)