I was married off to a disabled hero in lieu of marriage; my in-laws doted on me and I aspired to gr

Qiaoqiao's family's New Year's Eve dinner consisted of ten dishes.

Besides the chickens slaughtered at home, the fish distributed by the team, and the offal from raising pigs, there was also roast chicken, pig's head meat, and shrimp that Qiaoqiao brought from the city...

Despite the large table full of food, Zhou Zhonghai still couldn't drink alcohol, and he was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan. Luo Meiyun had no choice but to let him drink a tiny bit.

Zhou Xiaowei had slept well and was familiar with his family. He excitedly crawled around on the kang (a heated brick bed), putting everything he saw into his mouth. He even ate a piece of yellow mud that had fallen onto the kang with relish.

Today, the whole family sat on the kang (a heated brick bed) to eat. It was a bit crowded, but the atmosphere was warm and cozy.

Zhou Wenhui raised his glass and said, "Today is the happiest Spring Festival I've had in my twenty-eight years. I wish my grandparents, parents, and father all good health!"

Those drinking alcohol and those drinking soda all raised their glasses. This was the happiness of the Yang and Zhou families after their rebirth from the ashes following their hardships. Everyone had grown in this year.

Let's raise our glasses in celebration and toast to the new year, a year that will be recorded in history.

No need for words of thanks, because we are family.

Grandpa Qiaoqiao drank heartily, and after so many years, he could finally stand up straight.

Qiaoqiao's father talked a lot. He said that they would be building a new house at the beginning of the year. His family used to have a brick house, but because of their bad class background, the house was handed over to the village party branch and the brigade. His family could only squeeze into an adobe house.

Qiaoqiao's mother was very worried. Her son was 24 years old and would be 28 after finishing his studies, and he still didn't have a wife. She was very distressed.

Grandma Qiaoqiao's teeth are back to normal, and she ate several pieces of pig's head meat.

There was no electricity in the countryside, so candles were lit inside the house, and pig's head meat was offered as a sacrifice in the main room. Qiaoqiao's grandfather led the whole family in worshipping their ancestors.

Zhou Zhonghai and Luo Meiyun were not members of the Yang family, so they were not required to participate in the ancestral worship ceremony; they could simply watch from the sidelines.

"Old Zhou, shouldn't we go back to our hometown for a visit?"

Perhaps it was the sight of these objects that brought back memories. The Zhou family lived far away in the south, and after his parents passed away, Zhou Zhonghai had been busy with work and hadn't been back for many years.

"Wait two years, until Xiaowei grows up, then we can take him back to meet our ancestors."

Zhou Zhonghai frowned. His parents died of illness during a year of famine, and he, their son, was far away on the battlefield. He could not fulfill both loyalty to the country and filial piety.

After Zhou Zhonghai returned to his hometown to pay respects to his parents following the victory in the war, he heard a different perspective.

During a year of famine, his uncle had grain, but he did not help his parents, who starved to death.

He hated his uncle for being heartless, and he also hated himself for being unfilial. Now that his uncle had passed away, the only person he could hate was himself.

Zhou Zhonghai envied the Yang family. No matter how poor they were, they stood firmly together.

Poverty is the best test of human nature. If my uncle had been willing to give me a bag of grain back then, my parents wouldn't have starved to death.

After lighting three incense sticks, the whole family knelt and bowed. Qiaoqiao's grandfather said loudly, "Grandpa, Grandma, Dad, Mom, this year is full of good news. Your descendants Yang Zheng and Yang Qiao have passed the imperial examination, which is equivalent to becoming a Xiucai (a scholar who passed the lowest level of the imperial examinations). You should be happy that women can pass the Xiucai examination."

Yang Qiao gave birth to a chubby little grandson. Her in-laws treat her very well, so our whole family is at ease. Yang Zheng isn't married yet, but we're not in a rush; we'll wait until he finishes his studies. Next year, we're building a new house, funded by our in-laws. They're a teacher, a high-ranking official, and a good official who stands up for the people.

He wanted to distribute the land to individual households, and he also wanted us farmers to raise pigs, chickens, and rabbits. Next year, we were to offer a large pig's head as tribute. Mother, when you passed away in 1942, the tree bark was all gone. With your last breath, you said that if you had a bowl of rice porridge, you could die in peace. Mother, your son didn't get to give you rice porridge; my heart aches..."

As Qiaoqiao listened, tears streamed down her face. Her grandfather also had parents and felt guilty as a son.

Zhou Zhonghai listened in a somber mood. In 1942, more than 30 years had passed, and the farmers still couldn't get enough to eat.

He used to be just a rough soldier, but now he is the Minister of Agriculture. The burden on his shoulders is incredibly heavy.

After the worship ceremony, it's time to stay up all night to welcome the New Year.

Under the dim light, Grandma Qiaoqiao sewed a cotton-padded coat for Zhou Xiaowei, while Qiaoqiao's mother busied herself pouring tea and adding firewood, afraid that her in-laws and grandson would get cold.

The men chatted about next year's agricultural production, while Qiaoqiao and Luo Meiyun listened while taking care of the children.

"My dear in-law, how much wheat did you harvest from one acre of land last year?"

"This year, the weather has been favorable. My family's several acres of good land yielded 400 jin of wheat, while the less fertile land only yielded a little over 200 jin. We also had 600 jin of corn. After paying the grain tax, we still had 800 jin of wheat and 2,000 jin of corn left over, which is enough to feed the whole family."

Qiaoqiao's father said with a smile, "With so much grain, we can still sell some of it."

"The production volume is too low."

"My dear in-law, I heard that rice yields in the south have reached 700 to 800 yuan per mu. They say there are new rice varieties and a pesticide to kill insects. If the north had these, wheat yields would definitely increase. Under Jin Tao's leadership, our village has built irrigation canals. Other villages definitely won't have as high yields as us."

"Wheat seeds, pesticides, water sources..."

Zhou Zhonghai muttered to himself, "To increase production, we need to address three fundamental factors."

Upon arriving in the province, the first place I visited was the agricultural university. If the south can develop superior rice varieties, the north must also develop superior wheat varieties.

"Actually, as long as the land can be distributed to individual households, and they can raise some chickens, ducks, pigs, and rabbits, they can eat their fill and still have some savings, and the people will be very happy."

The solution to food and clothing is simple, but this simple thing has been delayed for nearly thirty years in the course of history, with periods of separation and reunification, and the people are still not full.

"Besides farming and raising poultry, what other ways are there to get rich in rural areas?" Zhou Zhonghai asked Qiaoqiao's grandfather and father earnestly.

"Dashui Village got its name from a large reservoir. In the early days after liberation, fish could be raised in the reservoir, and the most delicious food was crab. Later, when people couldn't even get enough to eat, who would eat crab? That stuff would only make you hungrier."

In the 1950s, some people started cultivating mushrooms, and sales were excellent. But then the Cultural Revolution started, and there was nowhere to buy mushroom spawn anymore, and nobody ate them either—they were too expensive. Grandpa Qiao sighed deeply. Shouldn't history move forward? Why does it feel like we're regressing more and more?

"Not many people eat crabs, and mushrooms are hard to preserve. Are there any other commercially available, easy-to-store agricultural products?" Zhou Zhonghai continued to ask.

Grandpa Qiao thought for a moment and said, "Does potato count? We live in a sandy area, and potatoes are especially delicious. However, they also help to remove excess oil, making you hungrier the more you eat."

"Potatoes? Does nobody grow them anymore?"

"The yellow sandy land has all been planted with corn. Potatoes can't be sold, and corn is more filling than potatoes for our own consumption, so the team won't allow us to plant them anymore."

How many acres of sandy land are there in Dashui Village?

"About ten mu (6.7 hectares). If the potatoes can be sold, it's better than growing corn. The yield is high in sandy soil, three to four thousand jin (1,500-2,000 kg) per mu. The potatoes are also big, soft and powdery. Ten mu would yield forty to fifty thousand jin (20,000-25,000 kg) of potatoes, and they keep well."

"Potatoes at the city vegetable stores cost eight cents a pound, and with a yield of three thousand pounds per mu, that's 240 yuan! That's better than corn. But fewer people buy potatoes at the vegetable stores, and there's less oil, so the more you eat, the hungrier you get," Qiaoqiao interjected.

"Potatoes, we'll plant potatoes next year and sell them to the cafeteria. They'll take them even if they don't want them."

Zhou Zhonghai slammed his fist on the table, and the first plan to help Dashui Village get rich was decided right there in the mud-brick house.

"That's great! My family has two acres of sandy land, we'll plant potatoes on it all."

Qiaoqiao's father was overjoyed; that meant an income of about five hundred yuan.

It seems that we need to go deeper into rural areas to effectively develop plans for wealth creation.

With so many communes and production brigades in the county, this is a huge project, and it has to be handed over to Fu Sanjun.