Reborn in 1977, I will no longer be my brother's blood bag.

The next day, just as dawn was breaking, Old Xu woke up.

I didn't wake up naturally; I was woken up by a knock on the door.

"Old Xu! Is Old Xu up yet?"

Old Xu lay on the kang (a heated brick bed), staring at the ceiling, motionless for a long time. Without being asked, he knew who it was.

These past few days, people have been asking me every day—about the notification letter, about letters from Beijing, about whether I've received any mail.

This made him, the postman, busier than the commune cadres.

A voice called from outside again: "Old Xu! Are you going to the county today?"

Old Xu finally sat up: "Go! Go every day! Do you think I can hide the admission notice when it arrives?"

Laughter immediately came from outside the door. But the person didn't leave, clearly wanting to ask more questions.

Old Xu pushed the window open and said, "Go home and eat quickly. I'll bring you home when you arrive."

"They're really here?"

"If I knew whether it had arrived or not, why would I be a mail carrier?"

This time, the people outside finally left.

Old Xu put his clothes back on, but he was actually a little itchy inside.

Because yesterday the county post office specifically showed him the register—key mail tracking, Lin Xiuhe.

His name is now listed in the post office system. In all his years working there, this is the first time he's seen such treatment.

Eight o'clock in the morning, at the county post office.

As soon as Lao Xu entered, several staff members behind the counter were already chatting. The topic was still Lin Xiuhe.

"The local newspaper's article is out."

"So fast?"

It was delivered last night.

"Where?"

"office."

Old Xu's ears perked up immediately: "The newspaper's out?"

"The sample print will be ready in two more days before the official printing."

Old Xu didn't even bother to drink water before heading straight to his office.

Inside, the post office manager was reviewing manuscripts. When he saw him enter, he smiled and said, "Your information network is quite good."

"It's all over." Old Xu rubbed his hands together. "Let me see."

The director handed over the manuscript. The title on the top line read: "In the first year after the resumption of the college entrance examination, our county produces the county's first."

The subtitle below reads: "Lin Xiuhe, a young employee of Hongqi Commune, ranked first in the county with a score of 457."

Old Xu stared, his eyes wide.

Next, there's a photograph—Lin Xiuhe stands in front of the counter at the supply and marketing cooperative, with an abacus on the table and a stack of account books next to her. Sunlight streams in from the window, and the whole photograph is very clean.

Old Xu stared at it for a while, then suddenly laughed: "That's great, the whole region will know now."

The director nodded: "The Education Bureau has approved it, and the radio station is preparing to broadcast it. It should be released in the next couple of days."

After saying that, the director opened the drawer and took out a registration folder: "Take a look at this."

Old Xu lowered his head. The first page still contained important emails—Lin Xiuhe.

But this time, there was an extra line: "[Expected arrival soon]".

Old Xu even paused for a moment: "It's already been sent out?"

The director shook his head: "It hasn't reached the county yet, but it's already been registered in Beijing, so it should be soon."

Old Xu closed the registration folder, a sudden feeling of nervousness creeping into his heart. The notification hadn't arrived yet, but the entire county was waiting.

On the other side, the Red Flag Commune. The Supply and Marketing Cooperative.

There were even more people today than yesterday. News of the newspaper's interview had spread, and many people came specifically to see what was going on; some even rode their bicycles from the neighboring commune.

Which one is Lin Xiuhe?

"That one, the one behind the counter."

"So you're number one in the whole county?"

"right."

The chatter continued. Li Hongmei was extremely busy: "Are we buying anything?"

"I won't buy it."

"Then stand to the side."

"Let me see who's number one in the whole county."

The supply and marketing cooperative erupted in laughter. Zhao Xiaomei laughed so hard she bent over, exclaiming, "Sister Xiuhe, you're a real celebrity now!"

Lin Xiuhe closed the ledger: "You said the same thing yesterday."

"Yesterday I was a celebrity in the commune, today is different, today I'm almost a celebrity in the region." After saying that, Zhao Xiaomei laughed to herself.

At noon, Captain Wang came again. These past few days, he'd been visiting the supply and marketing cooperative more often than he'd in the previous six months: "Xiuhe, there's something I need to discuss."

"What is it?"

"The county radio station wants to record an interview."

Li Hongmei's eyes lit up immediately: "A broadcast?"

"Yes, it will air next week."

"My God." Zhao Xiaomei immediately covered her mouth.

The radio station—that was truly audible throughout the entire county.

Thinking of this, Captain Wang couldn't help but laugh: "When the reporter left yesterday, he specifically praised you, saying that you answered well."

Lin Xiuhe smiled but didn't reply.

In the afternoon, the news reached the Lin family again.

Aunt Liu, holding a handwritten manuscript, walked straight into the yard: "Xiulan, did you see this?"

Wang Xiulan was hanging clothes to dry: "What?"

"The newspaper article hasn't even been published yet, but someone in the county has already copied it."

He handed over the paper. The title at the top was particularly eye-catching—"In the first year after the resumption of the college entrance examination, our county produces the county's top scorer." Below, the three characters "Lin Xiuhe" were written clearly.

Wang Xiulan's expression gradually changed. She had initially thought that things might change before the admission notice arrived. But now—newspapers, radio, the education bureau, the post office—everything was revolving around the same name.

She suddenly realized that things were no longer within the Lin family's control.

Meanwhile, at the county post office.

The last mail truck of the afternoon arrived at the station. The staff began unloading the goods—one sack, two sacks, three sacks.

Just then, someone suddenly shouted, "Wait, the registered mail from Beijing has arrived!"

Several people in the room looked up at the same time. The staff member looked down to check: Origin: Beijing. Recipient: Hongqi Commune.

Upon seeing this, someone nearby immediately stood up and said, "Quick, see whose it is!"

The staff turned the email over.

The next second, the entire post office fell silent.

On the front of the envelope, three words were clearly written: Lin Xiuhe.