Back to the 60s: The Struggle Career of a Charmed Wife
Chapter 1230: Long Stay at the Old Home 4

Chapter 1230: Chapter 1230: Long Stay at the Old Home 4

Zhou Fengchun patted his shoulder, "Alright, alright, Xiaoyun, you are a man. Why have you become a young girl? Only young girls cry so delicately, and no amount of consoling will do!"

"Little sister!" Xibao suddenly thought of Fubao.

Lu’s father touched the top of his grandson’s head and said to Zhao Xiaoyun, "Xiaoyun, quickly help your Grandfather Zhou into the house for a meal. The busy farming season is right in front of us, and there is plenty of work at our Wanglou Brigade. We won’t have a moment’s rest. We’ll need to work after eating; without food, how will we have the energy to work?"

"Can we do less?" Zhao Xiaoyun felt even more heartbroken when he heard that Zhou Fengchun would still have to work despite his injury.

"We’d raise suspicions if we don’t work, and there are those in Wanglou Brigade with ill intentions," Guan Cheng thought of Wang Xinlai and his family, who made everyone uneasy. "Uncle Grandfather often has me supervise these elderly people at work. Don’t worry, I’ll try to arrange some lighter tasks for Grandfather Zhou so that his injury won’t worsen."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Xiaoyun bowed deeply to Guan Cheng.

"Thank you, Brother Acheng, meeting you all is the greatest fortune I could have."

"No need for such formalities between brothers. Let’s eat, and eat quickly!" Guan Cheng took out the freshly baked scallion pancakes and a jar of sweet potato porridge. "Xibao, it’s time to eat; your favorite scallion pancakes."

"Thank you, Brother Acheng!"

After eating, Wang Zhengguo indeed called on Guan Cheng to lead the group of elders off to work, twenty-some in number, a rather impressive sight.

While they were well-meaning, their crimes were indisputable, and most men and women below middle age still avoided them, fearing trouble, and quickly led their curious children away.

Xiaoyun’s heart ached with an added heaviness, his eyes became very red, but he followed behind and dared not let tears fall.

"Once you come to our place, you should just be thankful to Heaven in your heart!" Lu Tianzhi said in a low voice, "The outside is too terrifying. It was not until I stepped out and returned that I realized our Wanglou Brigade is a Shangri-La." He had long forgotten the hardships of his childhood.

"What’s a Shangri-La?" asked Xiaoyun.

Lu Tianzhi almost choked on his own saliva, and with wide eyes, he said, "You haven’t read Tao Yuanming’s ’The Peach Blossom Spring’?"

Xiaoyun shook his head. "I’ve only memorized ’Qinyuan Spring - Divination.’"

Mr. Wuliu, Tao Yuanming? Wasn’t that old culture? It had long disappeared from the textbooks.

"Alright, alright, you’re fine, speaking as if we’ve never memorized anything. I even have this!" Lu Tianzhi pulled out a little red book from his pocket. "One for every person; do you have one?"

Xiaoyun’s reply was to pull out his own copy from his pocket, surprisingly the exact same edition.

Xiaoyun quickly discovered that almost every person from the Wanglou Brigade’s fathers and fellow villagers had one of these identical little red books.

"Shouldn’t there be some who can’t read?" Xiaoyun queried, pulling Lu Tianzhi aside.

Guan Yu responded, "You should say that except for the young people who have been to school, there aren’t many older people who can read aside from the Lu family. Whether or not they can read, what matters most is the enthusiasm for learning. When the new versions were published, even though they were priced low and most ordinary folks could afford them, my uncle and aunt still had Grandfather pay a sum to buy a batch from Great Uncle and distribute one to everyone."

It wasn’t expensive, but when everyone willingly accepted it, they also remembered the favor.

In Feng Qingxue’s words, the little red book was a talisman, using its quotes to counter others worked especially well.

The enlightenment of Wanglou Brigade was evident in each person owning one of those little red books. Even the illiterate elderly, after listening to others read it numerous times, could recite a few phrases by heart. They walked out with heads held high and showed off a bit, feeling instantly more remarkable compared to other production brigades where literacy was scarce and red books even scarcer.