Back to 1984: I built a chicken farm on a barren mountain.

"What's wrong?"

Chen Wenfeng pretended not to know and asked, and the village chief explained:

"On the afternoon of the day the land was divided, you went to my house to find the newspaper. Later, Lao San and Dali came and made a fuss. After you all went back, I thought to myself, Jiming Mountain is a bit remote, but there are many things that can be done on the mountain, not just reclaiming wasteland and growing grain."

"Hmm," Chen Wenfeng silently gave a thumbs up. "The village chief is quite knowledgeable."

In their previous life, they contracted Jiming Mountain at a high price, but since there was no mineral, they focused their efforts on land reclamation.

However, Jiming Mountain has little soil and many rocks, making it extremely difficult to reclaim. Even with the hard-won fragments of land, only beans could be planted.

Wheat is out of the question, and even corn won't grow well.

Because it is not only difficult to draw water on the hillside, but it is also difficult to conserve water and soil.

Once the conversation started, Chen Wenfeng and the village chief began chatting about Jiming Mountain.

They talked about everything from the household contract responsibility system to reform and opening up, from the three major appliances to the Shenzhen Special Economic Zone, and from "one country, two systems" to peaceful reunification.

They then moved on from households with 10,000 yuan in assets to the individual economy, from the Shanghai National Games to Los Angeles, and from the nationwide crackdown to learning from Zhang Haidi.

The two were talking when a shout came from outside the door.

"Is the village chief here?"

"Dr. Sun, come in quickly!"

As the office door opened, barefoot doctor Sun Fugui entered carrying a large medicine box.

The village chief asked Sun Fugui, "How many more injections do you need?"

Sun Fugui adjusted his thick glasses, which were as thick as the bottom of a wine bottle, and said:

"One more injection today should be enough. As long as the fever doesn't go down, it'll be fine. You'll have to be more careful about what you eat from now on."

After saying that, Sun Fugui quickly prepared the medicine and took out a long and thick glass syringe with a metal needle attached.

Upon seeing this, Chen Wenfeng suddenly felt like his childhood nightmare was coming back. No wonder people these days are afraid of injections; the syringe and needle are just too big.

Out of fear of injections, if children in the village misbehaved, their parents would say, "If you don't behave, Sun Fugui will come and give you an injection." It always worked.

"You're the first one today. I sterilized the needle and glass tube by boiling them in a pot yesterday. It simmered for more than half an hour."

Dr. Sun smiled and quickly gave the village chief an injection. The village chief grinned, pulled up his pants, and said somewhat awkwardly:

"You can't be greedy and eat cold food anymore. You never learn your lesson."

After Dr. Sun left, Chen Wenfeng and the village chief continued their conversation.

Chen Wenfeng discovered that the village chief, Chen Youwei, was a cunning old fox, a far-sighted old fox.

This description is not derogatory.

Rather, it means that the village chief's judgments about the future are as astute as those of a fox in the mountains.

Chen Wenfeng relied on his memories and experiences from his previous life, while the village chief relied on reading newspapers and his innate intuition.

If the village chief lived in the city instead of Chenjiazhuang, his horizons would be much broader.

For a fleeting moment, Chen Wenfeng had the illusion that the village chief had also been reborn.

Don't underestimate the village chief; successful people have their own reasons for success.

Some people are born different from others, like an awl being put in a bag and unconsciously sticking its head out.

Some people can never stick their heads out because they are not awls, but hammers.

Just as Chen Wenfeng was mentally evaluating the village chief, the village chief was also silently assessing him.

Chen Wenfeng's vision and eloquence greatly surprised village chief Chen Youwei.

This kid is only twenty years old, but he can not only keep up with my thoughts and ideas, but also has a more thorough understanding of many things than I do.

Even on many topics, it was this young boy who was guiding him!

How come I never noticed this before!

Unbelievable, absolutely unbelievable!

The village chief felt that Chen Wenfeng, despite his seemingly carefree and irresponsible demeanor, was very mature and resembled someone else:

The second son of the Chen family.

Chen Shouren.

Chen Wenfeng's father actually had two brothers.

The eldest son was Chen Shouyi, the second son was Chen Shouren, and the third son was Chen Shouxin.

Unlike his eldest brother's honesty and integrity, and his third brother's wickedness, Chen Shouren was truly the kind of child everyone admired.

Regardless of appearance, height, IQ, or EQ.

Chen Shouren was tall, with a handsome face, and a calm and decisive personality.

He doesn't talk much, but when he does, he always gets straight to the point.

Even Grandma Chen Wenfeng's old rival, Accountant Wang's mother-in-law, often complained about how a sorghum plant could grow out of the Chen family's rotten field.

Unfortunately, my second uncle, Chen Shouren, passed away unexpectedly ten years ago, when Chen Wenfeng had just turned ten.

The year Chen Shouren passed away, the old village chief of Chenjiazhuang, Chen Youwei's father, said something particularly regretful:

"One of the ridge beams of Old Chen's house is broken."

......

At this moment, village chief Chen Youwei stared at Chen Wenfeng's long legs and deep eyes, momentarily lost in thought.

It looks so much like it.

As he began to have this thought, it became increasingly clear how it was.

"Wenfeng, is your love of reading books and newspapers influenced by your second uncle?"

"yes."

Chen Wenfeng's love of reading and literature was indeed influenced by his second uncle, Chen Shouren.

Even though he lived a poor life in his previous life, he always persisted in reading.

I remember when we first started working on the construction site, after work we would all go to a nearby Wenzhou hair salon to queue up for a hair wash.

Wash the top and bottom of your head, wash the outside and then the inside.

The top adds to the troubles, while the bottom alleviates the worries.

Only Chen Wenfeng was reading literary magazines in the dim light of the shed.

Later, he found a job in the logistics department of an office building, and when he wasn't busy, he would go on Tianya Forum.

He often lurked in the poetry and allegory section, watching others write poems and debate.

I occasionally write some myself.

Although it was tough, we were able to find joy even in hardship.

Recalling the past, Chen Wenfeng chuckled to himself. Continuing from where he left off, he said to the village chief:

"Uncle Youwei, I not only enjoy reading, but I also write occasionally."

"Really? That's great!"

As the village chief got more and more excited, he talked more and more, leaning back in his chair and shaking his head.

After a while, he couldn't help but steer the conversation to Jiming Mountain:

"Wenfeng, if only there were more people with your insight in the village, Jiming Mountain wouldn't be left without tenants."

Chen Wenfeng felt he had talked enough with the village chief, and taking advantage of the village chief's most relaxed moment, he suddenly asked the question he had most wanted to ask:

"Uncle Youwei, do you have a lowest price in mind for the lease fee of Jiming Mountain?"

"Yes, at least five or six hundred over twenty years."

Without hesitation, the village chief said that this price was actually his bottom line; in other words, he wouldn't easily reveal this number.

But he was so relaxed that he inadvertently let the number slip out of his mouth.

"Then I'll take it on!"

The village chief seemed to be struck by Chen Wenfeng's words, looking at the young man in front of him with disbelief.

Chen Wenfeng stopped joking and returned his gaze with a serious look.

Getting it at this price is a real steal.

......

And so, Chen Wenfeng contracted Jiming Mountain. He and the village chief agreed that he would sign and pay within two weeks.

Pay annually, 30 yuan per year.

In 1984, a few dozen yuan was still money for an ordinary family, but it wouldn't break their bones; they could easily afford it if they tightened their belts a little.

As the village chief watched Chen Wenfeng's departing figure, he slowly savored the conversation they had shared over the past half-day.

I increasingly feel that Chen Wenfeng came today specifically for the matter of Jiming Mountain.

He fooled me.

That little rascal!

But village chief Chen Youwei was not annoyed by this; instead, he felt inexplicably happy.