Reborn in 1982, the prodigal son returns

Lin Nuo arrived in the county town at almost two o'clock.

It only takes fifteen minutes to walk from the station to the fertilizer plant, but he walks slowly. The roads are difficult to walk on after the snow; the snow on the main street has been compacted and frozen into a layer of ice, making it slippery underfoot.

He walked along the roadside, his feet crunching in the still-wet snow. His shoes were soaked, and a chill crept up from the soles of his feet.

It's so cold.

The fertilizer plant was located at the eastern end of the county town. You could see its tall chimney from afar; it was made of red bricks, stood at least thirty meters high, and emitted white smoke that rose straight up into the hazy sky.

The iron gate at the factory entrance was closed, but the iron fence gate next to it was slightly ajar, just big enough for one person to squeeze through sideways. The words "Guard Room" were pasted on the window of the guardhouse, but the red paint had peeled off, leaving only faint traces that were barely recognizable without close inspection.

An old man was sitting in the gatehouse, wearing reading glasses and reading a newspaper. The temples of his glasses were wrapped with white tape.

Lin Nuo knocked on the door, then pushed it open and went in. The old man frowned, glanced at him over his glasses, his gaze looking through the top of his reading glasses with a hint of impatience.

"Who should I look for?"

"Inquiring about someone."

Lin Nuo pulled a pack of Daqianmen cigarettes from his pocket. He had found this pack in the east room drawer that morning; he didn't know when it had been left over. It was in soft packaging and the seal was still tight. He opened it, took out a cigarette, and handed it over.

The old man took it, didn't light it right away, first smelled it under his nose, and then tucked it behind his ear. His attitude relaxed a little, but not much; the wrinkles on his face were still taut.

Who is it?

"Ma Shengli. He used to work in the factory."

The old man's hand stopped by his ear. He didn't speak, took off his reading glasses, placed them on the newspaper, and looked Lin Nuo up and down again.

That look was somewhat similar to the look Lin Nuo had seen in the police station in his previous life—warning, scrutinizing, as if to say, "You'd better not cause trouble."

"Who are you to him?"

"It's no one important. I'm just asking around. Someone in my family works in the same workshop as him, named Lin Jian. Do you know him?"

The old man remained silent for a few seconds.

The gatehouse was quiet, with only the bubbling of the kettle on the stove.

"Go back now."

His voice wasn't loud, but his tone was stiff, as if Lin Nuo had asked something taboo.

"I don't know anything."

The old man stood up, walked to the window, and closed it. The window was one of those old-fashioned iron windows that pushed up and down; the slide was covered with ice, so you had to push hard to close it.

It took two pushes to close it properly, and the veins on the back of my hand bulged. With a "bang," the glass shook, and white plaster fell from the window frame.

He stood with his back to Lin Nuo, showing no intention of turning around.

Lin Nuo didn't leave, but was surprised. What was wrong with Ma Shengli?

Something's not right.

He tapped on the table.

"Sir, just one question: Is Ma Shengli still at the factory?"

The old man didn't turn around.

There was a long silence.

Then the old man said in a low voice:

"She's gone. She passed away in early autumn."

"How did you get there?"

Silence again.

The old man slowly turned around.

He had a strange expression on his face, which Lin Nuo couldn't quite understand.

"...Go ask Lin Jian yourself."

Then he turned around, picked up the newspaper on the table, covered his face, and ignored Lin Nuo.

Lin Nuo nodded, said nothing more, and went out.

As the door closed behind him, he heard a sigh come from inside. It was very soft; he wasn't sure if he had misheard. At that moment, Lin Nuo stood at the fertilizer plant entrance, not leaving immediately.

Ma Shengli is definitely not that simple. These days, factory jobs are considered secure, and nobody wants to leave voluntarily.

He must have done something wrong; his intuition told him it was related to Lin Jian.

The factory closes at five o'clock. There will be more people then, so I'm sure I can find someone who knows Lin Jian. I'll ask around then.

……

At five o'clock sharp, the factory bell rang.

The iron gate was pushed open from the inside, and workers walked out in twos and threes.

When Lin Nuo stood up, his legs were already numb from squatting, and his knees buckled, almost causing him to fall. He leaned against a poplar tree to steady himself.

His eyes were busy searching through the crowd.

Some he recognized, some he didn't. Lin Jian had worked at the fertilizer plant for three years, and Lin Nuo had visited a few times, so he recognized a few faces.

I remember there was a short guy with glasses, surnamed Sun, whom Lin Jian took home for dinner. There was also a tall guy, nicknamed "Pole," who was in the same work group as Lin Jian.

He didn't see the two people.

But he recognized another face – Old Zhou, from the same village as the fertilizer factory worker.

Old Zhou was short and chubby, wearing a blue cotton-padded work jacket covered in white fertilizer powder, including the collar and cuffs.

"Brother Zhou!"

Old Zhou turned around, saw him, and paused for a moment. His mouth opened slightly, exhaling a puff of white breath, and his eyes blinked twice, as if confirming something.

"You are... Lin Jian's second brother?"

"Yes. Brother Zhou, I want to ask you about someone."

Old Zhou's eyes flickered as he looked around, as if checking if anyone was nearby.

This reaction was not quite right, and Lin Nuo became even more certain of his judgment.

"Who?"

"Ma Shengli. Do you know him?"

Old Zhou's expression changed, and he subconsciously took half a step back, his heel making a hole in the snow.

He lowered his voice, almost whispering in Lin Nuo's ear:

Why are you asking this?

"I just want to know what's wrong with him."

Old Zhou hesitated for a moment, then took off his Lei Feng hat and scratched his head. His hair was flattened by the hat and stuck to his scalp; it wouldn't stand up even after a few scratches.

Then he pulled Lin Nuo a few steps toward the roadside, away from the crowd. There was a poplar tree by the roadside with a rusted iron sign nailed to its trunk that read "No Parking." He stood behind the tree, his back to the road, his body blocking Lin Nuo from view.

"Ma Shengli...something has happened."

His voice was so low that Lin Nuo had to tilt his ear to hear it.

"This autumn, he dealt in a batch of fertilizer with someone. He claimed it was cheap stuff from out of town and he could make a profit by reselling it. But it turned out the fertilizer was fake, and farmers in several villages bought it, and all their winter wheat died."

He emphasized the word "fake," as if to stress something. Then he swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down.

"Ma Shengli was taken away by the police station. He hasn't been released yet."

Lin Nuo clenched his fists.

"What about Lin Jian? Was he involved?"

Old Zhou glanced at him.

There was a hint of sympathy and regret in his eyes; it seemed he shouldn't have said so much.

"brother,"

He said, in an even lower voice:

"I suggest you go back and ask your brother. This matter... I can't say more. The factory leaders said that anyone who spreads this news will be fired."

He patted Lin Nuo on the shoulder. His palm was thick, and he could feel its weight even through the cotton-padded coat.

Old Zhou put his Lei Feng hat back on, pulled it down, and tucked the ear flaps over his ears. He quickened his pace and walked away. His gait was much faster than before, almost a jog, the hem of his cotton-padded coat swinging back and forth at the back of his legs. He disappeared around the street corner.

It's like avoiding a plague.

Lin Nuo stood by the roadside, looking in the direction where Lao Zhou had disappeared, and felt a chill in his heart. Sure enough.

Ma Shengli has been arrested.

Fake fertilizer.

Farmers in several villages were scammed.

The look in Lao Zhou's eyes when he asked, "Was Lin Jian involved?" suggested that Lin Jian was likely implicated as well. Lao Zhou didn't say it explicitly, but his hesitation revealed a lot.

This must be why Lin Jian was so eager to raise rabbits at home.

Does he need money?

Lin Nuo stood at the entrance of the fertilizer plant for a long time, his mind racing with these issues: Ma Shengli, fake fertilizer, Lin Jian, and rabbit farming—all these things were intertwined.

He turned and walked towards the main street, his mind a jumbled mess, finally managing to sort out why Lin Jian had allowed him to raise rabbits.

However, there was another matter to attend to in the county town: whether Lin Jian had come up with the idea of ​​raising rabbits on his own, or something else. He needed to find out the exact details to nip Lin Weiguo's idea in the bud.

The supply and marketing cooperative is located on the main street of the county town. It has three storefronts with blue bricks and gray tiles. The five-pointed star on the door has faded, but the outline is still there.

A sign reading "Chengguan Supply and Marketing Cooperative" hangs at the entrance, with white background and red characters. The paint is peeling off a bit, and half of the vertical stroke on the right side of the character "社" is missing, making it look like a "衤" from a distance.

The door was open, and the light inside was dim; the light bulbs were too weak and gave off a yellowish tint.

The shelves were stocked with everyday items—thermoss bottles, enamel basins, towels, soap, matches, and kerosene lamps. On the counter against the wall were several bolts of cloth, blue, gray, and black, rolled up in rolls, with price tags stuck to the ends.

There was a mixed smell in the air: the alkaline smell of soap, the pungent smell of kerosene, and the smell of starched cloth, all mixed together—a unique smell of the supply and marketing cooperatives in the 1980s.

Liu Dezhu stood behind the counter, using an abacus.

He was a purchasing agent for the supply and marketing cooperative and an old acquaintance of Lin Weiguo. He was in his early fifties, with a thin, long face and high cheekbones. He wore reading glasses with the temples held together by rubber bands, and when he moved the beads on his abacus, they made a "clattering" sound.

"Uncle Liu."

"Hey, Nuozi? What brings you here?"

"I want to ask you something."

As Lin Nuo spoke, he took out some money from his pocket.

The one-yuan bill was crumpled; his father had given it to him when he left home. He had spent fifty cents on the bus fare and had fifty cents left. But he already had one yuan in his pocket, so he handed it over.

"Uncle Liu, I bought two packs of cigarettes from you on credit last year, Daqianmen brand. This is to make up for it."

Liu Dezhu was stunned for a moment, and it took him a while to react:

"You little rascal, you still remember this? I'd completely forgotten about it."

He took the money, his attitude noticeably warmer. He opened a drawer, put the money in, and then pulled out a chair from behind the counter.

"Sit down and talk. What's up?"

Lin Nuo sat down and began to speak:

"Uncle, I'd like to inquire about the market price of rabbit fur. Is raising rabbits profitable?"

Liu Dezhu's smile faded slightly. He put his glasses back on, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on the counter.

I advise you not to raise one.

Why?

"The rabbit fur business is a real minefield."

Liu Dezhu leaned against the counter, his voice low, so low that only the two of them could hear him. He glanced at the doorway; no one was there. The street was deserted, but he felt safe enough to speak boldly:

"Last year, several rabbit farmers in Xiahe Village lost everything in a rabbit plague outbreak. Dozens of rabbits died within three days. That disease is contagious; if one gets sick, the whole litter is wiped out. They lost everything, and two families still haven't paid back the money they borrowed."

As he spoke, he tapped his fingers twice on the counter, making two soft tapping sounds, as if to emphasize something.

Linno's Adam's apple bobbed.

"Then... Uncle Liu, besides rabbits, what else can make money?"

Liu Dezhu thought for a moment and then spoke.

"Wild things."

"In the past six months, the market for wild game has been rising steadily. Pheasants, rabbits, fish, and other things from the mountains. Restaurants in the city want them, and state-owned restaurants want them too; they buy as much as you can get."

He pointed to the bill and showed it to Linno.

"Last month, someone brought a roe deer down from the mountains and sold it for over sixty yuan. Over sixty yuan! That's more than you could earn by farming for half a year."

Lin Nuo's eyes lit up.

"Pheasants, five yuan each live, two yuan each dead. Wild rabbits are sold by weight, one yuan and fifty cents a pound, twice the price of pork. And soft-shelled turtles too."

Liu Dezhu tapped the paper twice more with his finger. He tapped so hard that the paper was dented.

"Ten yuan for a pound. Twenty yuan for two pounds. For three pounds or more, you can negotiate with the restaurant yourself."

Lin Nuo's fingers clenched tightly on his knees.

He did the math in his head: one turtle costs ten yuan, so ten turtles would be a hundred yuan. His father farmed for a year, and after deducting the costs of seeds, fertilizer, and pesticides, he would only have a little over a hundred yuan left. But if he could catch ten turtles in the river, that would be his father's income from a year's work.

He also remembered that the price of soft-shelled turtles rose sharply later, reaching as high as 28 yuan per catty.

However, he didn't have many connections, so he could only continue following Liu Dezhu's lead.

"Uncle Liu, are there really people in the city who collect these wild animals?"

"I'd be a dog if I lied to you."

Liu Dezhu patted his chest, his palm striking his cotton-padded jacket with a dull thud:

"The purchasing agents from the state-run restaurants come to ask every few days. They're short of supplies, wild animals, they'll buy as much as you bring in. If you can get your hands on some, I'll introduce you to the connections."

"I know that guy well. He doesn't haggle, he pays in cash, and he never gives credit. Last time someone brought over a wild boar, which weighed over 200 pounds, and he paid 80 yuan on the spot."

Lin Nuo didn't rush to express his opinion.

He asked another question:

"Uncle Liu, is hunting wild animals... anything the forestry station can do about it?"

Liu Dezhu waved his hand dismissively. He waved his hand twice in front of him, as if shooing away a fly.

"Why should anyone care? Who cares about that now? The higher-ups have set quotas. Setting traps, digging snares, using harpoons—nobody cares. The only thing you have to be careful about is registering hunting rifles."

Lin Nuo nodded. He naturally understood, but it was still okay to use a musket now. It would only be strictly controlled in a few years.

"Uncle Liu, thank you."

"No need to thank me."

Liu Dezhu spoke:

"If you can really get your hands on the goods, remember to come find me. If you think the county town is too far, go to your brother Liu Jun in town and tell him I sent you. Don't go through other people's channels; my price is the fairest. Those middlemen outside will try to cut your price by two or three cents per pound; they're ripping you off."

"OK."

Now even the sales channels have been found.

Lin Nuo stood up, walked to the door, and then stopped.

"Uncle Liu, don't tell my dad about this yet. Let me get it first."

Liu Dezhu smiled:

"You little rascal, you've learned to keep secrets now? Fine, I won't tell. But you'd better hurry, these things will be harder to hunt after autumn. They've been lying low all winter, they're all very shrewd."

"Um."

Lin Nuo pushed open the door and went out.

It was already dark by six o'clock.

There was a queue outside the state-run restaurant. Seven or eight people were hunched over, their hands tucked into their sleeves, and their feet stamping on the ground to keep warm.

Steam escaped from the crack in the door, carrying the aroma of food—the savory fragrance of stewed meat, the spicy scent of scallions, and the sweet aroma of steamed noodles—all mingling together and condensing into a cloud of white mist in the cold air, lingering for a long time.

Lin Nu swallowed hard.

When I make money in the future, I must treat Su Wanqing to a meal.

The dark steamed bun Zhao Xiuying had given him that morning was still in his pocket; it was cold, hard, and like a rock. He took it out, broke off a piece, and stuffed it into his mouth. Crumbs fell onto the front of his cotton-padded jacket; he patted them off and broke off another piece.

He chewed it a couple of times; it was a little hard on his teeth, but he swallowed it. The steamed bun tasted sour, the kind of sourness you get from whole grains. It wasn't very tasty, but it was filling.

He rewrapped the remaining half of the steamed bun and stuffed it back into his pocket.

He only had one yuan left in his pocket. Liu Dezhu had only taken half the money from him.

As he walked towards the station, clutching the money, he went over the events of the day once more.

Ma Shengli is in trouble. He's been taken away by the police. He sold fake fertilizer, which cheated farmers in several villages.

Is this why Lin Jian was so eager to raise rabbits at home?

He needed money to cover the shortfall. With Ma Shengli arrested and the fake fertilizer scandal exposed, the cheated farmers would definitely have to pay compensation. If Lin Jian didn't come up with the money, he might be the next one to end up in the police station.

That's why he came back and urged his father to raise rabbits. All he wanted was the family's money.

Lin Nuo stopped in his tracks.

wrong.

If Lin Jian simply needed money, he could borrow it directly from his father. His father doted on him, and would definitely give it to him if he asked. He didn't need to go through all this trouble.

Unless, of course, that money cannot be solved by borrowing, the hole is too big, so big that even borrowing cannot fill it, and the only solution is to "earn" it.

If someone tells him that raising rabbits can make him rich, he will come back and urge his father to raise rabbits.

The third brother was a man who cared a lot about his reputation. If others found out about the fake fertilizer, he would lose face in the surrounding villages.

That makes sense now.

Lin Nuo stood by the roadside and exhaled a puff of white breath.

The wind blew in from the street corner, making him squint.

He recalled his past life; after the rabbit plague, Lin Jian never returned. Lin Weiguo went to the county several times to look for him, but the fertilizer factory said they had no record of him.

Back then, everyone thought Lin Jian was too ashamed to come back because of the rabbit plague that had ruined his family. But now that I think about it, it wasn't that he was ashamed to come back, it was that he was afraid to come back.

When the fake fertilizer scandal broke, he was only thinking about getting rich quick by raising rabbits, but he lost money. Then all the rabbits died, and he had no choice but to run away.

But why didn't the farmers who bought the fertilizer make a fuss? He ran away; they should have come looking for him at home.

No, it's not that simple.

The shuttle bus is waiting at the station.

Lin Nuo found a seat by the window and sat down.

As the car started moving, he leaned against the window and closed his eyes.

Thinking about what Liu Dezhu had said about the market prices for wild game: five yuan a pheasant, ten yuan a pound for soft-shelled turtles. No capital required, just living off the land and water.

This has potential.

He needs to earn some money on his own first.

Then I took my older brother and we did it together.

It was completely dark when I got home.

Lin Nuo went to the kitchen first.

See if there's any food left for him.

A bowl of sweet potato porridge sat warm on the stove, covered with a plate to keep it warm. Beside it, in a small dish, lay half a piece of pickled vegetables, neatly sliced ​​and arranged. The porridge was kept warm over a low flame; the bottom of the bowl was still hot.

He picked it up, lifted the plate, and finished it in a few gulps. The sweet potato was cooked until soft and sweet, and the drink warmed his stomach, keeping him warm all the way from his esophagus to his stomach.

Then he walked to the door of the west room.

The lights were on inside, and a thin line of light shone through the crack in the door, falling on the snow in front of the threshold like a golden crack.

He knocked on the door.

"Wanqing, I'm back."

Let's keep quiet inside for a while.

Then came the sound of footsteps, very light, like bare feet on a brick floor. They reached the door, paused, and the door opened a crack.

Su Wanqing stood behind the door.

Her hair was loose, draped over her shoulders, and as black as ink.

She glanced at his snow-soaked shoulders but said nothing.

"I went to the county town to inquire about it today."

Lin Nuo said:

"Let's not rush the rabbit thing. I've thought of another way; I'll go into the mountains tomorrow to take a look."

Su Wanqing's eyebrows twitched slightly.

The movement was very light, perhaps carrying a hint of doubt. Lin Nuo would never have said these things to her before, so what was going on now?

"It's nothing, I just wanted to talk to you. You should go to sleep early."

Lin Nuo said:

I'll patch the cracks in the window tomorrow.

He turned to leave.

"Lin Nuo".

He stopped.

Su Wanqing's voice came from behind, very softly.

"Have you eaten?"

Lin Nuo was stunned for a moment, then couldn't help but smile. This was the first time in his life that Su Wanqing had taken the initiative to care about him.

"I ate. I had a bowl of porridge in the kitchen."

"oh."

The door closed.

Lin Nuo stood under the eaves, the snowflakes hitting his face, cool and refreshing. He looked up and saw that the light in the main room was still on, and his father's shadow was reflected on the window paper, motionless.

He wanted to go in and tell his father what had happened that day.

But in the end, I didn't go.

Let's talk about it tomorrow morning.

Let Dad get a good night's sleep tonight.

He turned and went back to the east room.

We're going into the mountains tomorrow.

He recalled his past life, probably in 1983 or 1982, when someone brought a nest of good stuff from the sunny slope behind the mountain.

Sunny slope... pine forest... further up, there's a depression, sheltered from the wind, with plenty of sunshine.

He curled the corner of his mouth slightly.

I'll go dig up that nest of things tomorrow.