At five in the morning, Li Zhuiyuan raised his head, pushed himself upright, and leaned back in his chair with half-open eyes.
He remained in that position until five-thirty. As sensation gradually returned, a throbbing headache set in, his pupils refocused, and his consciousness slowly reassembled itself.
Li Zhuiyuan pressed both hands against his forehead, gently kneading his temples.
He had no idea how he had fallen asleep—or, for that matter, when he had woken up.
After another fifteen minutes of quiet recovery, he took a deep breath and looked toward his desk. There was a puddle of blood on the surface, and the exercise notebook he had used for his calculations was soaked red.
The moment his eyes brushed over the lines and symbols scribbled inside, a sharp pang stabbed through his brain, and he immediately snapped the notebook shut.
Gradually, the memory returned. Before blacking out, had he been trying to calculate his own fate?
It seemed one truly could not divine one's own destiny.
Checking the time, Li Zhuiyuan stood up to tidy the desk. He grabbed a washbasin to take a bath, scrubbing and hanging out his bloodstained clothes while he was at it.
Once finished, he did not return to his bedroom. Instead, he went out to the terrace and sat in the wicker chair he usually used for reading.
The cool morning breeze washed over his face, breathing a touch of vitality back into him, though a dull ache still lingered in his head.
A light went on in the east room. Through the window, he could see a small silhouette seated inside, while an adult figure stood beside her, gently combing her hair.
So A-Li woke up this early every day.
As he watched, the figures in the window vanished, and the sky entered its final transition from charcoal gray to dawn.
The door of the east room opened, and the girl stepped outside, clutching the small wooden Go box against her chest.
She looked up, spotting Li Zhuiyuan already seated outside the second-floor bedroom, and their eyes met.
Soon, Qin Liang was beside him, taking her place on the little stool.
Instead of spreading out the oiled-paper Go board as she usually did, she simply looked at him.
A moment later, Li Zhuiyuan felt a warm, soft little hand reach out and take his.
Perhaps in the girl's mind, whenever he held her hand, she felt calm and comforted; this time, she took the initiative to hold his, hoping to offer the very same solace in return.
Boy and girl sat holding hands, looking out at the morning breeze rippling through the sea of rice paddies and watching the gray along the horizon steadily yield to the glow of daybreak.
Time moved so slowly, yet it slipped by so fast.
"Achoo!"
Li Sanjiang stepped out of his bedroom and sneezed loudly.
Turning his head, he noticed the boy and girl sitting side by side, and a sudden thought struck him: they looked just like the golden boy and jade girl seated beside Guanyin in traditional New Year prints.
It wasn't just a resemblance; the refined delicacy of their features genuinely mirrored the plump, harmonious lines of those painted celestial children.
Li Sanjiang sniffled, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. He had noticed a change in himself lately. Once, he had believed that drifting through life alone, coming and going with total freedom, was the best way to live. He never imagined that in his twilight years, the arrival of Little Yuanhou would bring him the simple, sweet joy of spoiling a grandchild.
Auntie Liu called them for breakfast.
Breakfast was served exceptionally early today, as both Li Sanjiang and Li Zhuiyuan had to head out.
Instead of rice porridge, they had instant noodles—Three-Flavor Yi-noodles.
Auntie Liu had even poached an egg at the bottom of each bowl.
The noodles were delicious. Li Zhuiyuan hadn't felt particularly hungry at first, but after a few mouthfuls, it felt as though the frozen blocks in his body were melting completely away, and he finished the bowl in no time.
Auntie Liu cooked another bowl and brought it over.
Only after polishing off the second bowl did Li Zhuiyuan finally feel completely rid of the lingering aftereffects from last night's attempt at fortune-telling.
"Want more?" Auntie Liu asked.
"I'm full, Auntie Liu."
Beside him, Qin Liang laid down her chopsticks as well. She ate slowly, always slurping up an identical length of noodle, biting it off, chewing and swallowing before taking the next bite.
Li Sanjiang finished his meal too, smacking his lips.
"Truth be told, these instant noodles don't hold a candle to the plain broth noodles at the town shop. A dollop of lard, some soy sauce, white pepper, and a scatter of chopped scallions—that's far tastier than this."
Auntie Liu chimed in, "That's certainly true."
In any other household, an adult saying such things was usually just belittling instant noodles to justify not buying them anymore and saving money.
With Li Sanjiang, however, that was never the case. A single ruined batch of paper effigies had nearly broken his cash flow, proving that he truly never saved a penny; whatever he earned went straight into everyday life, especially food and drink.
In reality, throughout the vast rural townships of that era, having instant noodles for breakfast was an enviable luxury that could make the neighbors' children weep with longing.
In some provinces, people had even turned instant noodles into local specialties, such as instant noodles with meatballs and poached eggs.
Li Sanjiang picked up his travel pack and stamped his feet, ready to depart.
His pack was unusually long because he had stowed the peach wood sword inside. Ever since it helped him slay the corpse demon last time, he had cherished it all the more.
He had even made a special trip to the village committee office to phone the manufacturer, hoping to order another batch. To his surprise, they told him the furniture factory had been privatized and had long since shut down the peach wood sword production line.
Now, the sword in his hands was a collector's item with no replacements.
Li Weihan and his sons arrived, each pushing a handcart laden with baskets and tools.
"Uncle Sanjiang."
"Uncle."
"Great-Grandpa."
The four uncles were extraordinarily well-behaved before Li Sanjiang. He never indulged them in daily life and would openly curse them as ungrateful wretches whenever they crossed paths, so much so that whenever they spotted him walking through the village from afar, they would hurry to take a detour.
Pan Zi and Lei Zi ran cheerfully over to Li Zhuiyuan. Lately, since Li Zhuiyuan wasn't staying at their grandparents' house, they had missed out on many chances to play together.
"Let's go!"
Li Sanjiang patted his pant legs, took Li Zhuiyuan by the hand, and walked out alongside Li Weihan and the others.
Qin Liang watched Li Zhuiyuan leave. She had known all along that he was heading out today, but as she saw him go, she still lowered her head slowly, her gaze coming to rest on the empty noodle bowl he had left behind.
Liu Yumei shot a quick glance at Auntie Liu, who darted forward in a flash to clear the bowls and take them away to wash.
Moments later, Uncle Qin returned carrying a massive bundle of bamboo poles. He tossed them onto the courtyard floor and dusted off his hands.
Liu Yumei sat down beside Qin Liang and smiled warmly. "A-Li, what if I have Ah Li make you a wicker chair just like Little Yuanhou's? How does that sound?"
Qin Liang gave no response.
Liu Yumei pursed her lips and turned to Qin Li. "Get on it over the next two days. Make two identical new wicker chairs, sized properly for children to sit and lean back in."
Qin Li nodded.
Qin Liang raised her head.
It wasn't obvious, but she was genuinely pleased.
***
At the edge of the road by the village entrance, an old-fashioned bus rolled up after barely any wait.
In those days, rural buses had no proper stations or fixed stops. Although licensed, they were largely run as private concessions; if the driver saw someone waiting by the road, they would pull over, and passengers could shout for a stop whenever they liked.
Li Sanjiang wanted to give Little Yuanhou a few more parting instructions, but the bus had arrived so fast that he had to board immediately. Once the bus pulled away, Li Weihan lifted Li Zhuiyuan into Eldest Uncle Li Sheng's handcart, letting him sit inside.
Then everyone walked together along the shoulder of the asphalt road. Before long, they caught up with the column from Siyuan Village.
The group consisted almost entirely of able-bodied men of working age, with very few women. This was because the monumental canal-dredging campaign had entered its final stages, and both the workforce and hours required had diminished substantially.
Decades earlier, during specific seasons each year, almost the entire rural population of Jiangsu—men and women, young and old—had to be mobilized with their tools. Those near rivers shored up dikes, while those without dug reservoirs.
Whenever a key project called for a massive coordinated campaign, workers would be organized to travel far afield, joining forces to get the job done.
In the depths of winter, with boots squelching through thick mud, they dug shovel by shovel and hauled earth shoulder-pole by shoulder-pole. There was hardly any heavy construction machinery back then; it was almost entirely human muscle.
Everyone had to take part, from teenagers barely in their youth to women who had just finished their postpartum confinement. Construction periods stretched long, requiring weeks or months of living and eating right at the work site, bringing their own dry rations and pitching their own crude sheds.
Countless elders carried chronic ailments to this day, all roots of illness left behind by the grueling hardships of dredging canals in those years.
Eldest Uncle Li Sheng chuckled. "Remember back when we were kids, how hard it was digging canals with Dad and Mom? Back then, Dad always loved to tell us, 'If you don't study hard, you'll be hauling river mud for the rest of your lives!' Haha!"
The three uncles beside him laughed along.
Second Uncle Li Zheng said, "Turns out all Dad's lecturing went in one ear and out the other. None of us brothers had the brains for school. In the end, our little sister was the only one who studied her way out."
Third Uncle Li Xiong nodded. "Too right! Mom was biased when she raised us, saving all the good brains for our sister."
Li Weihan feigned outrage and barked with a laugh, "You little brats, talking out of your asses! If any of you had the brains to study, do you think I wouldn't have gritted my teeth and put you through school?"
Everyone burst out laughing again, trading playful jabs and good-natured curses.
For a moment, it felt as though everything had drifted back to long ago.
The four brothers, led by their parents, heading out to the canal work site together, bantering just like this all along the way.
That was probably why Li Weihan cared so much about this dredging assignment. His sons were all married with families of their own now, each a father to several children. Day to day, they had their own households to look after, and petty friction was inevitable.
Only at times like this, carrying their tools and pushing their carts with nothing else weighed down on them, could they recapture those warm memories of the past.
Yet this brief warmth was bound not to last. Large families with modest means inevitably faced the same petty reckonings. Only when life grew easier in the future and they all grew older might they finally set aside their calculations and grudges to genuinely reclaim their fraternal bonds.
Of course, it was just as possible they might never let them go, remaining estranged until the day they died.
The column tramped steadily onward, the uncles pointing out landmarks along the way to Li Zhuiyuan, Pan Zi, and Lei Zi.
"That dike is one we built back then. We were still small, so we could only help haul earth behind the adults."
"We built that reservoir too! Lord, it was so cold back then that the ground froze solid!"
"And that ditch was dug by us as well! Lei Zi and Pan Zi were still toddlers back then, hahahaha!"
Following their gestures, Li Zhuiyuan looked out from his seat in the cart. A chord was struck in his heart. Many public facilities he had always taken for granted as natural fixtures were not simply meant to be there; they had been carved into existence.
Today, nearly every village had a small reservoir, every township a medium one, and the terraced hillsides were carpeted with tea plantations. All of them stood as the finest monuments of a fading era—fruits cast from the sweat, sacrifice, and bare hands of ordinary working people.
As the column from Siyuan Village pressed on, it merged with contingents from other villages. The ranks swelled continuously until the line stretched beyond sight, both ahead and behind.
The village leaders carried banners emblazoned with their village names, while the township leaders bore larger banners and spoke through hand-cranked megaphones.
The banners were faded and worn, their painted characters long since peeling, and the powerless megaphones were speckled with rust. Yet by now, they served merely as symbolic emblems; habits and civic duty forged over decades had already been etched deep into the hearts of several generations.
With his tools divided among his sons, Li Weihan was able to leisurely light up his water pipe. The drifting smoke gave his eyes a distant, hazy look—perhaps stung by the fumes, or perhaps because this steadfast, earthy man had been struck by a sudden welling of emotion.
He murmured, "I remember back when we were rushing to meet a deadline, an art troupe came to the site to perform and boost morale. There was one line that stuck with me—can't recall who said it on stage, but it went:
"'If we don't build this dike now, if we don't dredge this river now, if we don't dig this reservoir now, we'll leave it for our children to build. If we swallow all the bitterness today, our children won't have to suffer like this tomorrow.'
"Looking back, whoever said that was dead right.
"Panhou and Leihou won't ever have to haul river mud in the future."
The uncles chimed in one after another. Life nowadays was indeed far better than before.
The construction site was quite far away. The columns from several townships had assembled and marched out early in the morning, arriving only around midday.
Numerous makeshift work sheds lined the site, and nearby farmhouses had been temporarily requisitioned to supply boiled water and dry rations.
Boiled water was available on demand, while dry rations were collected by village brigades and production teams before being distributed.
The Li family sat together in a circle, eating steamed scallion rolls. The four uncles each brought out jars of salted bean paste and pickled vegetables from home.
"Little Yuanhou, can you stomach this?" Eldest Uncle Li Sheng asked.
"Mm, it's very good." Li Zhuiyuan tore off a piece of the scallion roll and popped it into his mouth. The fragrant mingling of scallion and steamed dough was truly delicious.
"At least they feed us nowadays! In the past, when we dredged canals with your grandparents, we had to bring our own dry rations. You couldn't even get hot water; you had to boil it yourself!"
After lunch, there was no time for a midday rest. Brigade cadres came down to assign each group their designated work section.
Before long, Li Zhuiyuan watched dense crowds of people carrying tools and pushing handcarts stream down into the unflooded, muddy river channel from both banks, looking just like a swarm of ants.
Yet there was nothing lowly or insignificant about them; the sight inspired pure awe.
Organized into small collective units, they chanted work cadences and threw themselves into the labor with fiery enthusiasm.
Li Zhuiyuan was only tagging along and was not counted as part of the workforce, so naturally no tasks were assigned to him. Nearby, quite a few young children who had accompanied their parents were playing, some still munching on their steamed rolls.
However, Li Zhuiyuan had little interest in joining them. He followed Pan Zi and Lei Zi, helping them push carts and haul earth.
Presently, a small group of young people who looked like university students walked over, asking Pan Zi and the others to help hold a surveyor's line and set up markers for measurements. Li Zhuiyuan was given a task too: holding a wooden stake upright at a designated spot.
Beside him were two college students, one taking measurements while the other recorded them in a notebook. Because they addressed each other by name, Li Zhuiyuan learned that the one taking measurements was Xue Liangliang, and the one recording was Zhao Hequan.
Zhao Hequan remarked with a laugh, "Projects like this are getting rarer and rarer. Future juniors won't ever have to be assigned to work sites like this. I really envy them."
After reading off a measurement, Xue Liangliang kept his head down as he took the next reading and countered:
"No, large-scale projects like this will only increase in the future. But our country won't need to mobilize the masses for voluntary labor the way we used to. The hardest days are nearly behind us; from here on, things will only get better."
"Xue Liangliang, what on earth are you talking about?"
"What, you don't believe me?" Xue Liangliang smiled. "Just wait and see. Believe me, in the future, projects of this scale will be considered tiny—utterly negligible."
"If it's negligible, what are we doing out here?"
"I said negligible in the future, not in the past or present. Nantong sits right at the mouth of the Yangtze River. In the past, so many water-conservancy projects were built here for three reasons: first, for shipping and transport; second, for agricultural irrigation; and third—most importantly—for flood and waterlogging prevention.
"Without this infrastructure, there would be no foundation for future development at all."
"Heheheh." Zhao Hequan chuckled, finding his group partner rather hopelessly naive.
Once the measurements were complete, Xue Liangliang stood straight, called out the final set of numbers, and stretched his arms, gazing out at the bustling, noisy, yet orderly scene of construction. He couldn't help but sigh with feeling:
"A great people is forging a great history."
"Wake up, Xue Liangliang! You almost made me think we were in political philosophy class. Are you secretly reciting your textbook to prep for finals?"
Xue Liangliang smiled without answering. Looking down, he noticed Li Zhuiyuan, who was holding the wooden stake, smiling up at him. He reached out, patted the boy's head, and asked:
"Little buddy, you came along with your family at such a young age?"
"Mm-hmm," Li Zhuiyuan replied. "Young as I am, I'm still one of the people."
"Hahahaha!"
Xue Liangliang burst into full-throated laughter at that retort. He couldn't resist leaning down to give Li Zhuiyuan a hug, then fished a few White Rabbit creamy candies out of his pocket and stuffed them into the boy's.
He found this little boy fascinating, and Li Zhuiyuan found this older student quite interesting as well.
In particular, the expression and tone Xue Liangliang had used when speaking just now reminded Li Zhuiyuan of his North Grandpa.
Just then, a commotion broke out on the far side of the site. Someone came running toward them, shouting:
"They dug something up! They dug something up!"
In construction work, digging up relics was a common occurrence. Though people found it novel, few rushed over to look; after all, everyone had to hurry and finish their own assigned quotas.
However, the college students assigned to the site enjoyed far more freedom once their tasks were done. Zhao Hequan immediately grabbed Xue Liangliang and urged, "Come on, Liangliang! Let's go see what they dug up!"
Gradually, word filtered back. People learned that workers had unearthed a small shrine, roughly the size of an ordinary household's outhouse.
Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't amount to much. As an alluvial plain, this region had nowhere near the density of ancient tombs and historic structures found in the Central Plains, though construction work would occasionally unearth a minor landlord's tomb or a sacrificial shrine from antiquity.
In that particular era, archaeological preservation inevitably had to yield to development projects; anything standing directly in the path of construction would simply be dug out and razed.
Of course, that was also because a petty landlord lacked historical stature; to draw serious attention from the authorities, an site had to belong to at least a low-ranking noble.
Then again, in places like Xi'an or Luoyang, even minor nobility would be brushed aside during construction because such finds were hardly rare.
This time, however, the unearthed shrine was rather peculiar. Word had it that the shrine housed a female Bodhisattva statue bound in iron chains, with the other ends of the chains spiked firmly into the shrine's corners.
Seeing such a sinister, wicked arrangement, the laborers were too spooked to step forward and touch it.
In the end, two students from Haihe University took a hammer, smashed the chains apart, and pushed the Bodhisattva statue to the ground.
Only then was construction able to proceed.
By dusk, most of the brigades and teams had long since exceeded their daily quotas. Everyone had experience: finishing early meant passing inspection earlier and heading home sooner, as well as securing sleeping spots for the night before dusk fell.
This was where the advantage of having four grown sons shone through for the Li family.
Instead of pitching a crude shed by the riverbanks or sleeping on a straw mat laid directly on bare ground, they secured a spot on the courtyard of a requisitioned farmhouse near the work site.
Though the courtyard had no enclosing wall, having a flat, level surface under them, with a well and an outhouse nearby, already counted as first-rate camping conditions.
The four uncles divided the duties: fetching hot water, collecting dry rations, and gathering dry straw to make beds, while Li Weihan sat resting with Li Zhuiyuan, Pan Zi, and Lei Zi.
Several large light bulbs hung from wires over the courtyard. They illuminated the area for those below, served as a beacon, and marked the distribution point for hot water and the station where a barefoot doctor was on hand.
Li Zhuiyuan spotted Xue Liangliang and Zhao Hequan again. Their group of over twenty college students, led by a faculty instructor, was also staying here tonight.
Their accommodations were better, however; they had rooms inside the house.
Sitting on the freshly laid beds of straw, the uncles turned to lecture Li Zhuiyuan, Pan Zi, and Lei Zi:
"Look closely, boys! That's the benefit of an education! You have to study hard, understand?"
Beside them, Li Weihan coughed on his water pipe. Weren't those the exact words he used to repeat to these four brats?
Almost the identical scene, the identical circumstances, the identical earnest tone.
Yet it had been utterly useless.
Li Weihan had finally seen through it and made peace with it: words never taught a man anything; experience taught him in a single blow.
When it came to the pitfalls ahead, no amount of preaching from others did any good. A person had to step into the hole themselves before truly understanding—and what good was understanding by then?
After enduring the lectures from their fathers and uncles for a short while, Lei Zi and Pan Zi grew restless. They jumped up, rallied several neighborhood kids of similar age, and began playing folded-paper slapping games.
Each child folded their own paper packets. Gathering together, they took turns slamming their packets onto the ground; whoever managed to flip an opponent's packet over won it.
The older boys threw themselves into the game with gusto, the courtyard ringing with crisp, loud smacks, while a circle of younger kids clustered around, watching intently and picking up techniques.
Li Weihan glanced over and noticed his Little Yuanhou hadn't joined the game. Instead, he was sitting quietly with a book resting on his knees, reading with deep concentration.
Li Weihan leaned in to take a look, but the characters inside were crammed together like tiny tadpoles. Worried, he asked:
"Little Yuanhou, can you see that clearly?"
"Grandpa, I couldn't at first, but now I can."
Li Zhuiyuan hadn't brought a magnifying glass because he was already accustomed to the minuscule script. More precisely, having grown used to it, he no longer needed to distinguish the fine strokes of every single character; he could recognize them simply by grasping their overall impression.
Only after using the magnifying glass to memorize the texts had he belatedly understood the author's true intention in writing the characters so small.
It was a deliberate exercise designed to train the reader's "sight"—not ordinary physical vision, but the intuitive feel for observing phenomena, the ability to transform granular details into holistic mental impressions.
Li Zhuiyuan had vaguely glimpsed the breakthrough point. The key to the eighth volume of *Yinyang Xiangxue Jingjie* lay in the transition from the concrete to the conceptual: first mastering the concepts and applications through rote memorization and endless calculation, then refining them collectively until accumulated quantitative change spurred a qualitative leap, elevating the art from science into the realm of metaphysics.
He could already feel the countless eyebrows, eyes, mouths, noses, and ears he had memorized—and the diverse faces assembled from them—beginning to warp and fuse together in his mind.
Although the transformation was still in its infancy, he had found his direction. In the end, only a single archetypal face would remain in his consciousness. Whenever he encountered someone whose fortune needed reading in real life, he would simply imprint that person's features into his mind, mapping them directly onto the archetypal template to form an instant deduction.
"Mm, be careful not to strain your eyes," Li Weihan cautioned, before letting his grandson read in peace.
Glancing at his grandson buried in his book, then over at Lei Zi and Pan Zi whooping and hollering over their paper-slapping game, Li Weihan felt that life moved in endless cycles. Wasn't this the exact same feeling he had felt years ago, watching his studious daughter while his four good-for-nothing sons ran wild?
Back then, he had always wondered how the same nest could produce both a phoenix and four barnyard chickens.
Now, he had a hunch that the exact same story was going to repeat itself in his grandchildren's generation.
Once, over drinks, Uncle Sanjiang had remarked that the Li family's ancestral graves must have caught fire with good fortune for him to father a daughter like Lanhou. Well, years down the line, when Little Yuanhou grew up and took the college entrance exams, those ancestral graves would probably burst into flames all over again.
Over by the house, the college students had completed their assigned duties. Being an internship, and young people possessing boundless energy, they were in no hurry to go to sleep. Instead, they gathered beneath a light bulb hanging over the courtyard, produced various snacks they had brought along, and held an informal discussion salon.
Xue Liangliang noticed Li Zhuiyuan. He remembered the boy well. Taking a piece of pork floss bread wrapped in greaseproof paper, he walked over and set it down before Li Zhuiyuan.
Li Zhuiyuan looked up, saw him, and beamed. "Thank you, Big Brother."
"Little buddy, are you a local?"
Although the boy had been working at the canal site and had dirt on his clothes, his attire and demeanor didn't look like those of a typical country child—chiefly because of the easy, open poise radiating from his very bones.
"Yes, I'm Li Zhuiyuan. This is my grandfather, and those are my uncles."
"Haha, I'm Xue Liangliang. You're in primary school, right? What grade?"
"Third grade," Li Zhuiyuan nodded. In truth, it was difficult for him to explain to outsiders what grade he was actually in; all he knew was that once students in his special class reached a certain age, they were automatically promoted.
There had been a period when the elderly professors were driven nearly to exhaustion tormenting one another with their genius students, so a few very young teachers had been brought in to teach their classes. The mutual torment had instantly escalated to blistering new heights, with everyone clawing at each other with immense relish.
Only later did he learn that those remarkably young teachers were actually senior alumni from their very own program.
"Study hard, and strive to get into college one day."
"I will, Big Brother."
Just then, someone from the discussion circle shouted over, "Xue Liangliang! Hurry up and get ready, you're up next!"
"Coming, coming!"
Xue Liangliang turned and walked back to his seat.
Li Zhuiyuan glanced at the cluster of college students. He had seen similar scenes often on campus.
Those older brothers and sisters were students just like him. They loved sitting on the university lawns, strumming guitars and reciting poetry, the young men often letting their hair grow long enough to cover their eyes.
Tonight's discussion topic was their visions for the future, assigned by the faculty supervisor—a theme fitting for their stage in life.
The speaker currently holding the floor was Zhao Hequan, the student who had partnered with Xue Liangliang during the daytime survey. He had reached his closing remarks:
"...America is a land where even the air smells sweet!
"And my future lies in America!
"My girlfriend and I are already applying to study abroad in the United States. We will stay there, living in a land of freedom and dreams, enjoying our freedom and fulfilling our life's ideals!"
As he spoke, his eyes shone in reflection of the hanging light bulb overhead.
His face was rapt with intoxication, radiating almost religious devotion.
When he finished, the surrounding students burst into applause and cheers.
At that time, a wave of Western fascination—and the American Dream in particular—was sweeping across the nation's intellectuals, especially among young college students.
Following the Reform and Opening-Up, the stark disparity in material wealth combined with the impact of Western pop culture had struck the confidence of that generation with devastating force.
Going to America and staying there was not considered shameful; on the contrary, it had become an entirely normal and fashionable orthodoxy.
Even the faculty supervisor found nothing amiss with it. After all, quite a few university professors and lecturers had gone abroad; many sent on state-funded exchanges had quietly slipped away from their delegations to remain overseas.
"I also hope that all of you will have the chance to seek the true meaning of your lives in America. My girlfriend and I look forward to reuniting with you all on the other side of the ocean!"
Li Zhuiyuan looked up at Zhao Hequan. He did not employ the *Mingge Tuiyan Lun* to calculate his fate, simply running a quick check using the physiognomy principles from *Yinyang Xiangxue Jingjie*.
This method produced fewer, less precise conclusions, but Zhao Hequan's facial features were exceptionally textbook:
*Rocky marriage, destined to live out life in solitary widowerhood.*
Li Zhuiyuan sank into contemplation. But he seemed deeply in love with his girlfriend. Had he calculated in reverse again?
Zhao Hequan stepped down, and Xue Liangliang walked forward to take his place.
Li Zhuiyuan handed the pork floss bread to Lei Zi, who had just returned deflated and sulking after losing all his paper packets.
Then he closed his book, rested his chin in his hands, and prepared to listen carefully to what this older brother had to say about his own future.
Xue Liangliang walked into the center of his peers. He didn't look up, his expression calm and unheated. The overhead bulb cast light across his back, haloing him in a soft glow that looked almost like the morning sun.
"My future lies in the Great Southwest.
"I study water conservancy. I believe that in the future, the Great Southwest, with its rich network of river systems, will be the true stage where I can apply what I have learned.
"The unique geology there isn't well-suited for nuclear power plants, but it harbors boundless potential for hydroelectric power. Our country will undoubtedly build massive hydropower stations there in the years ahead, and energy is the bedrock of industrial development.
"I believe that one day, hydropower from the Great Southwest will not only meet the production and living needs of the local people, but also supply and support the entire nation.
"This is a great undertaking, and I consider it my highest honor to weave my own future into it."
When his words fell, the students exchanged glances, feeling as though an odd stranger had suddenly intruded among them.
A few who knew him well hung their heads in muted chuckles; clearly, they were long accustomed to his idiosyncrasies.
Nearby, however, many villagers lying on their straw bedding had also been listening to the students. When Xue Liangliang finished, several villagers shouted, "Well said!"
At that moment, the one who felt most slighted was Zhao Hequan. Though neither the classmates nor the teacher showed any reaction, he felt Xue Liangliang had deliberately targeted him. He couldn't resist retorting with snide sarcasm:
"Oh, give it a rest! Stop putting on an act. As if you wouldn't go to America if given the chance! Forget America—even if you had the chance to go to Japan or South Korea, you'd jump at it!"
Xue Liangliang asked in return, "If it's for learning, why wouldn't I go?"
"Pfft!" Zhao Hequan pointed a finger at him. "Look, your true colors are showing! Once you went, you wouldn't ever dream of coming back! You have no idea how vast the gap is between us and them. It's a gap we will never close."
Xue Liangliang shook his head. "We will close it. Under proper leadership, we have already achieved immense developmental strides, and the future will only get better."
"Sure, we're developing, but aren't they developing too? With such a massive gap, even if they stood still and gave you a hundred years, you still wouldn't catch up!"
Xue Liangliang shook his head once more. "Impossible. The material world obeys objective laws. Unless nuclear fusion achieves a breakthrough and becomes commercially viable, the global market pie is destined to be finite. As long as we keep growing, this will no longer be a game of mere pursuit."
Zhao Hequan frowned, failing to understand. None of the other students grasped his point either, and even the faculty supervisor looked puzzled.
"Xue Liangliang, what on earth are you on about? Aren't we the backward pursuers?"
"We are catching up, but it is not a chase. The more we develop, the more advanced our industries become, and the larger the share of the pie and market we will claim. In the future, not only will they not stand still waiting for us, but they will also actively decline—they will meet us halfway, heading downward while we rise.
"I believe that in fifty years, our total economic output will surpass both Japan and South Korea."
The students looked at Xue Liangliang as though looking at a madman, and the faculty supervisor couldn't help smothering a laugh with her hand.
Yet Xue Liangliang pressed on:
"Is that so strange?
"A day will come when the scale of our shipbuilding industry surpasses South Korea's, and our automobile manufacturing volume surpasses Japan's. Once they lose those industrial edges, won't their economies inevitably decline?
"As for staying abroad, as you put it—perhaps living standards there are indeed very comfortable right now, but staying behind doesn't suit me. I want a platform where what I've learned can actually be put to use.
"And I don't believe that when people can already face prejudice within their own country simply for speaking different dialects from different provinces, moving abroad among different races and skin colors would somehow eliminate prejudice and provide a free platform for your growth.
"It makes no sense. It goes entirely against human nature."
"Well said!" "Hear, hear!" "Good on you!"
The cheers from the nearby villagers grew louder. Even Li Weihan and his four sons joined in the applause. Though they hadn't understood many of the technical terms, a pure, deep-seated pride and hope stirred in their hearts, making them feel that the young man's words were thoroughly invigorating.
Zhao Hequan grew flustered and angry. "You don't understand! You're the one who understands nothing! You don't understand America at all, nor do you understand the true essence of freedom!"
A student nearby piped up with a smirk, "Xue Liangliang, since you're so certain, you must know what will make big money in the future. Why don't you tell us, huh? Heh."
"Yeah, tell us!"
"Let us learn how to see the future from you so we can get rich together!"
Xue Liangliang gave it some thought and answered earnestly, "According to the development patterns of advanced economies, whenever an economy enters a period of rapid upward growth, its real estate industry is bound to experience immense expansion.
"So if you want a reliable, appreciating investment, buy property in the core districts of major cities—even if it means taking out a bank loan to do it."
The crowd went blank for a second, then erupted into even louder laughter, several students laughing so hard that tears spilled from their eyes.
Xue Liangliang sat back down, and the next student stepped up to speak.
Even so, many students continued whispering among themselves, shooting mocking, amused glances in his direction.
Xue Liangliang didn't mind in the slightest, remaining in his seat and clapping politely for the next speaker.
Li Zhuiyuan still refrained from calculating his fate, merely examining Xue Liangliang's physiognomy in silence:
*Smooth marriage, longevity, and peace.*
Li Zhuiyuan blinked. If this reading turned out to be inverted as well, he would truly be furious.
Night deepened, and the salon finally drew to a close.
The villagers on the courtyard went to sleep, and the students retired for the night. However, because there were not enough rooms inside and to avoid impropriety with the female students, several young men had to sleep on floor mats outdoors.
Xue Liangliang and Zhao Hequan were among them.
Snoring rose steadily from the courtyard, blending into a rustic symphony.
Having worked hard all day, no one suffered from insomnia; everyone slept deeply.
Li Zhuiyuan lay beside Li Weihan, resting his head on his book as a pillow.
As he drifted in slumber, a sudden chill crept over him. In truth, even sleeping outdoors in this season shouldn't have made anyone shiver so fiercely; he had fresh straw fetched by his uncles underneath him and a quilt brought from home draped over him by his grandfather.
Yet Li Zhuiyuan quickly realized what was happening.
Likely because his great-grandpa hadn't performed the fortune-transferring ritual with him since getting injured, he hadn't experienced that kind of dream in quite a long time.
Feeling that familiar sensation, Li Zhuiyuan knew... he had entered the dream again.
Equipped with experience and theoretical knowledge, he was no longer as reckless as before. He lay motionless, parting his eyelids just a tiny fraction.
He saw himself still lying in the same spot. Beside him came the steady breathing of his sleeping grandfather, while his uncles, Pan Zi, and Lei Zi lay diagonally ahead.
Yet he knew this was not reality; this was a dream, for the eerie cold was growing more intense by the second.
Had he not gritted his teeth and held it in with all his might, he would have curled into a ball and begun trembling uncontrollably.
Just then, he saw a woman ascending the steps leading up to the courtyard.
She wore white clothing, its hem dragging long against the ground, and heavy iron chains were wrapped around her body.
Her exposed flesh, however, appeared charred black and raw meat-red. As she walked, chunks of flesh fell away continuously, hitting the ground with wet, sticky thuds.
Reaching the center of the courtyard, the woman stopped. Her head began swiveling around, as though searching for someone.
Everyone else remained sound asleep, incapable of seeing her.
Just as the woman was about to look toward his corner, Li Zhuiyuan shut his eyes completely.
After waiting a while until he felt enough time had passed, Li Zhuiyuan cracked his eyelids open once more.
Yet the moment he peeked, he discovered that whether the woman had scanned her surroundings several times or had simply been staring in this direction all along, from his perspective,
his eyes met hers!
In an instant, Li Zhuiyuan's blood ran cold, his heart thumping wildly against his ribs.
The woman's face was a mangled mess of blood and shredded flesh, as though charred by fire and gouged away by knives—resembling the horrific churn of blood, mud, and severed flesh when spring plowing broke the earth.
The only distinct feature was her mouth; her lips were gone, leaving two rows of bare white teeth exposed, which made the sight all the more ghastly!
The woman was still staring directly at him. Now, Li Zhuiyuan dared not close his eyes or make any further move.
Then the woman took a step, walking toward him step by step.
*Damn it...*
*Did she realize I can see her?*
Even as towering waves of panic surged through his heart, Li Zhuiyuan forced himself to remain utterly still, keeping his breathing at the exact same steady pace as before.
As the woman drew closer, a stench of scorched meat tainted with moldy sourness reached his nostrils, nauseating and foul.
Even so, Li Zhuiyuan kept breathing normally, as though locked in deep slumber.
The woman arrived before him and slowly crouched down.
Her terrifying face was inches from his nose.
Li Zhuiyuan couldn't close his eyes now; he was forced to stare directly into hers.
He watched the rotting flesh on her face fall away piece by piece. Two flecks of shredded meat even landed on his cheek, sliding slowly down the side of his face.
They felt sticky, oozing with sickening fluid.
At this moment, time seemed to drag on with agonizing slowness, each second stretching into an eternity.
After staring at him for what felt like ages, the woman finally stood up, turned around, and walked step by step toward the center of the courtyard.
Li Zhuiyuan ignored the bits of flesh still clinging to his cheek. He remained motionless, keeping his eyes cracked open in the same faint slit.
Suddenly, while her body was still striding forward, her head rotated a full hundred and eighty degrees around her neck, snapping back to face Li Zhuiyuan once more.
This sight sent a jolt of cold sweat down Li Zhuiyuan's back, a piercing chill sweeping from the base of his skull straight down to his tailbone, then surging right back up again.
Thank goodness he hadn't closed his eyes.
The woman seemed to satisfy herself that the child merely had a habit of sleeping with his eyelids slightly parted.
Her head spun a hundred and eighty degrees again, snapping back into place.
*Phew... phew...*
Li Zhuiyuan exhaled silently in his heart, his head feeling numb and dizzy.
The woman seemed to have located the target she was seeking. She strode toward the group of college students sleeping on straw mats outside the threshold.
In the end, she came to a halt right between Xue Liangliang and Zhao Hequan.
Both were sound asleep, completely unaware of what a terrifying horror stood mere inches from them.
The woman spread her hands. Her sleeves slid back, revealing arms of stripped white bone—not only coated in rotten meat, but writhing with countless maggots squirming in and out of the marrow.
Li Zhuiyuan maintained his slit-eyed posture; he had no intention of changing it until the dream ended.
Watching this unfold, a thought flashed through his mind:
*Could the two college students who smashed the Bodhisattva's chains with a hammer during the day be Xue Liangliang and Zhao Hequan?*
The woman slowly bent down, reaching both hands toward the neck of Xue Liangliang on her right.
Yet the moment before her fingers could clamp down, the light bulbs strung across the courtyard flickered several times due to a loose connection.
The woman's head whipped backward instantly, swiveling toward her back to glare at the flickering bulb.
After a few twitches, the bulb returned to normal.
The woman's head swiveled back along the same path toward her front.
This time, however, the rotation fell slightly short. As her head turned clockwise, the face that had originally been aimed at Xue Liangliang on the right ended up facing Zhao Hequan instead.
Her hands naturally shifted along with the direction of her gaze.
And then,
toward Zhao Hequan's throat,
she clamped down hard!
Chapter 18