Persian Empire 1845

Chapter 533 Encounter
"See this bicycle? My dad bought it from Tabriz. It cost 1100 riyals. I'm afraid it would take you three years of saving every penny to earn that much."

"Hmph, I'm ignoring you all, I'm going to test drive my new car!"

The child on the bicycle disappeared in a flash, leaving only the others standing there.

"What's there to be so smug about? He just has a businessman dad. Once I save up enough money, I'll definitely buy an even better one and make him so envious!"

Ali was still thinking about bicycles. They were so fast, much faster than walking. If he had one, he could go to town and come back much faster. If he modified it, he could even transport goods.

However, 1100 rials was indeed beyond their budget. That was their family's annual income, and they were lucky to have 200 rials left after expenses, not to mention the extra costs they needed to cover for things like illness.

He had only 120 rials in savings, which he put away. In addition to doing farm work, he would collect things from other places to sell, and he could save up 10 rials in a few months.

"Ali, your dad's looking for you!" A child's words pulled him from his reverie.

"understood!"

Thinking about all this, Ali could only run home quickly, wondering what his father had to tell him.

The village has changed. Agricultural cooperatives have come here, and all the villagers have joined in, working together to increase their income.

A primary school was also built in the village, where Ali's younger brother studied. If he could pass the exam, he could go to the middle school in town; at that time, knowledge was power.

When he got home, his father was already sitting there waiting for him. Ali went up to his father and asked what was wrong.

“Ali, you’ve been a bit distracted lately, and you’re not concentrating when you’re working.”

Thinking his father was going to punish him, Ali immediately begged for mercy, "That's certainly been the case lately, please spare my life, Father..."

When did I say I was going to punish you?

"Huh?" Ali was a little dazed. How come his father has changed his temper recently? He used to be so irritable.

"Your mother and I have discussed it, and you're not getting any younger; it's time for you to get married. We've already arranged it with a family in the next village. You can go and see them in a few days!"

This news is worse than any punishment, Ali quickly said.

"Father, I don't want to get married right now!"

"Honestly, you're not young anymore, it's time to settle down. They've chosen you, so don't run away, just wait patiently!"

For a long time, small-scale farming has been deeply rooted in Iran, and farmers have a particularly deep emotional connection to the land. Most farmers spend their entire lives within their own village or a neighboring village, their activity range not exceeding 10 kilometers. When looking for a spouse, they generally choose from nearby villages, and very few are willing to travel 10 kilometers to get married. "Father!"

Ali wanted to say something more, but his father stopped him.

"This is an order! Don't think I don't know what you're up to. Do you want to go back to Tehran? And deposit money at the post office...?"

Saving money is fine, that's your right. But you can't leave here; this is your home!

More and more people are going to the city to work these days. Although they earn more money, who will do the farm work at home?
“But Father,” Ali’s voice trembled, “I’ve found an apprenticeship at a machine factory in Tehran, earning 80 riyals a month. That’s much better than farming here, and it offers more opportunities.”

Opportunities are everywhere now. You can either go to the city to work or take a risk and try your luck in the colonies. You're bound to find something suitable, at least much better than farming.

“Opportunity?!” Faruz slammed his hand on the table. “Your great-great-grandfather grew wheat on this land. When will it be your turn to go to the city and become some…something?” He gestured wildly in the air with his short, stubby fingers, as if trying to grasp that unfamiliar word.

“A mechanic,” Ali added, biting his lip.

"Yes, mechanic. You think going to the city will make you soar to great heights? You're wrong. Only a very few people can do that. Most people will end up doing what you and I did before!"

Most people who move from the countryside to the city do manual labor, such as working as maids or nannies in urban homes, doing rough construction work, or joining the army, cleaning chimneys, delivering water, and so on. They do relatively basic physical jobs.

“Listen, kid,” Faruz suddenly grabbed his son’s hand, his rough palm tracing the calluses from working. “Last week, a guy from the next village came back from the city, missing a leg.” He tightened his grip, almost crushing Ali’s wrist. “Do you know what human flesh tastes like when a factory boiler explodes? Like overcooked lamb!”

The sound of a bicycle bell came from outside the window, and the boastful boy was circling the threshing floor. Ali suddenly broke free from his father, rushed to the window, and roared, "And what about you? You've seen the world!" He ripped the saddle off the wall and threw it on the ground. The dry, cracked leather split open, revealing a yellowed caravan pass inside—stamped with the marks of various border crossings from Isfahan to Tehran.

Faruz's expression was as if he'd been struck dumb. He slowly crouched down, picking up the broken brass bell from his pass. "Twenty years ago," the bell jingled dully in his palm, "I saw with my own eyes ten fools like you, skinned alive by bandits in the desert." He suddenly threw back his robe, revealing a centipede-like scar on his abdomen that gleamed white in the sunlight. "This world only ever preys on the poor!"

Ali was stunned. He had never seen this scar before, just as he had never truly known his father.

“Go see the girl in three days,” the father’s voice suddenly sounded ten years older, “if you can still think about those lumps of iron.” He pointed to the leaflet lying in the corner, “I’ll sell the old mule to raise your travel expenses.”

Faruz didn't necessarily want to force his son to live there forever; he knew it was impossible. Compared to the city, conditions in the countryside were indeed much worse. When the harvest was poor, there wasn't enough food for the family, and they had to be very careful with their money. Income sources were limited, and they often depended on the weather; when natural disasters or man-made calamities struck, life became even more difficult.

It's common for crops to be damaged by natural disasters or for agricultural products to drop in price, leaving farmers with no choice but to leave their hometowns to find new livelihoods. In contrast, cities offer stable jobs, higher salaries, a wider variety of food, and various entertainment opportunities, making them naturally attractive.

The reason for finding Ali a wife was to remind him not to forget his roots. In case he went to the city and never returned, he shouldn't forget that this is his home. The times are beyond his control now; even Ulima has been attacked, so they have no choice but to adapt to the changing times.

(End of this chapter)