Daily Life in the Countryside After Being Reborn
Chapter 137 - 84: Movie Night (Part 2)

Chapter 137: Chapter 84: Movie Night (Part 2)

"Uncle, there are only so many people in the village, yet the majority have praised Qian Yongcai. Let it be," San Gouzi squatted by the doorstep, lighting up a cigarette. "Uncle San Gouzi, grandpa told you, smoking is harmful to health. You’re almost turning into a big chimney, stinking up the place. Everyone in the village is blind; those with real insight have all left for places beyond the village," Xiao Xian pinched out San Gouzi’s cigarette.

"Xiao Xian is right, there are only so many folks in the village. According to the election laws, anyone over eighteen has the right to vote. You should find a way for those villagers working outside the village, whether verbally or by mail, to see how many votes you can get?" Zhu Shijun, after all, is an old hand; since Qian Yongcai has used underhanded methods for the election, it’s allowed for San Gouzi to take some shortcuts too.

After hearing this, San Gouzi thought it made sense. Those young folks working afar, high above the Emperor’s reach, didn’t witness Qian Yongcai’s benefits either. He would go down to the post office tomorrow and canvass some votes.

After Yezi left, the classroom at the temple quieted down a lot. With Zhu Shijun’s "special coaching," Xiao Xian was leading the whole class by far. The elementary school textbooks could no longer stump her, and her attention shifted to the "sugarcane seedling" and the White Flood Dragon in the iron space.

The White Flood Dragon was reluctant when it first entered the space, but after staying there for a while, it realized Xiao Xian’s space was even more impressive than the "Dragon Suppressing Bell." With abundant Spiritual Power condensing every night, Little White Jiao, once a human in a previous life, quickly understood. For over a year, the increased Spiritual Energy in White Dragon Pond was all thanks to Xiao Xian. By staying in Xiao Xian’s "Iron-grade Space," its cultivation would progress faster. In less than five years, it was certain to transform and become a true dragon. Thus, it also settled down, absorbing Spiritual Energy with the sugarcane seedling at night, and during the day it sneaked back to White Dragon Pond for food. Once the iron space gathered both active and static Spiritual Objects, it attracted more Spiritual Energy, and even Xiao Xian felt an inexhaustible supply of energy in her arms and legs every day.

On National Day, the election for the village chief’s secretary between San Gouzi and Qian Yongcai became the most significant event in the village. Qian Yongcai, with his hair slicked back shiningly and dressed in a pristine suit, hummed "Sister, march boldly forward," and stood under the big locust tree at the entrance of the village. Qian Duoduo and Wang Chunhua also made an appearance, with their whole family believing Qian Yongcai’s election was a sure thing. These days, whoever has money is the boss.

San Gouzi, holding twenty-some letters retrieved from the post office, realized Mr. Zhu was right. The young people working outside all remembered the favors San Gouzi did for them during holidays, so they were all in favor of him becoming the secretary. The postal communication system of that era was a bit poor, and the village wasn’t equipped with phones. Sending their votes back by mail took time, and some letters never made it back.

As the village chief was announcing the votes returned with the letters, Qian Yongcai’s group started cussing, accusing San Gouzi of using underhanded tricks. The election hadn’t even started, but a commotion broke out. Zhu Shi protected Xiao Xian, "This is prescribed by law, San Gouzi did nothing wrong. Anyone who objects can go ask in the town or city, or even take it to the Emperor—San Gouzi is in the right."

Mr. Zhu’s words set things in stone; with that shout, Qian Yongcai silently cursed, "What’s with the attitude? You really think you’re back in Beijing." He didn’t dare speak loudly, hearing from his nephew that it was this old man who led the distillery to buy the whole village’s rice; he couldn’t guess how many connections this "clay Bodhisattva" had.

"Before we start the official election, let’s have the two candidates, Qian Yongcai and San Gouzi, come up and speak. Let’s all give them a round of applause," the village chief led the applause.

San Gouzi, seeing that Qian Yongcai was older, let him go first.

"Fellow villagers, I left the village when I was sixteen, but my heart has always been with everyone. Thinking of our hometown villagers still living in leaky tile houses, barely having meat to eat all year, my heart aches like it’s been gouged. I promise, if I become the secretary, I’ll build a road for the village, so every aging elder and child have a nice townhouse to live in, those without wives will find beautiful ones, every woman will have pretty clothes, and the kids will have movies to watch. I’ll make Ge Village into the wealthiest village in the Southwest, no longer looked down upon." Qian Yongcai was eloquent as a lotus flower, using his skills in boosting and bragging from his days as a contractor and dining with leaders, having the villagers stretching their necks, almost seeing the rise of high-rises in Ge Village and everyone becoming millionaires.

A few idle villagers who benefited from Qian Yongcai’s favor were vigorously clapping and cheering.

Hearing this, San Gouzi looked down at the "speech" in his hands, losing his confidence.

"Uncle, it’s your turn," Xiao Xian said, tugging at San Gouzi’s sleeve and pursing her lips.

"Xiao Xian, your uncle isn’t capable. I can’t lead the villagers to good food and good homes like Qian Yongcai...," San Gouzi was a straightforward, passionate man, unable to speak such grandiose words.

"Uncle, not everybody needs to live in flats or eat meat; just do what you’re supposed to do. A place for every turnip, a responsibility for everyone." This is what Xiao Xian had contemplated while at Yunteng Sect. Even a garbage space, or a rag-picker, has its own duties.

Hearing this, San Gouzi hesitated for a moment, crumpled the piece of paper into a ball, and tossed it aside, "Right, I’ll just do what I’m meant to do."

(I’m reading late into the night, folks, here’s a sad but funny joke.

On Saturday afternoon,

My sister saw me writing.

She started university this year, a true fujoshi,

occasionally looking over my writing. Seeing me, she got excited and said, "This title looks familiar, I think I’m following this story,"

I quietly turned back and asked if it was a pirated version.

Her answer: Of course.

Then... I decided to poison the honey she asked me to buy.

I’m writing this to say: Sister, if you’re reading this, remember to buy the original, or your honey is doomed. A sinister smile.

Everyone, remember, Fu Zi is an author who poisons~) (To be continued. If you like this work, welcome to Qidian (qidian.com) to cast recommendation tickets and monthly tickets. Your support is my greatest motivation.)