PCJ – Chapter 322 An Eager Heart for Returning Home

“Are you crazy?! Can’t you see such big letters? Are you blind? Is this bus going to Zijiang?” The driver, with an attitude as arrogant as a government official, if not more, immediately began cursing when he heard Zhang Youping and Liu Qiaoye were headed in the opposite direction.

“Sorry, sorry.” Zhang Youping, helpless, could only smile and watch as the bus sped away.

They came across a few vehicles going to Zijiang, but they were all packed. Out of kindness, the drivers advised, “Since you didn’t buy tickets at the station, there’s no way you’ll find a ride. It’s not that I don’t want to let you two on, but if there were space, I’d let you on. No one wants to spend the New Year on the road. You might as well celebrate here—it’s just another day after all.”

As dusk fell, the couple still hadn’t found a ride. Just as they were about to pick up their luggage and head back, a large truck suddenly stopped in front of them.

“Where are you headed?” The truck’s driver, speaking in standard Mandarin but with a heavy Zijiang accent, poked his head out of the window.

“We’re going to Zijiang, but we can’t seem to catch a ride.” A flicker of hope flashed through Zhang Youping’s mind, sensing they might catch a lucky break.

“You’ll have a hard time finding a bus now. We’re also headed to Zijiang. If you don’t mind the cold, you can ride in the truck bed. I see you have your luggage—wear thick clothes and cover yourselves. You should be able to manage. It’s up to you, I won’t charge you. After all, we’re fellow countrymen,” the driver kindly offered.

“We’ll take it!” Overjoyed, Zhang Youping and Liu Qiaoye quickly climbed into the truck bed, which was cluttered with woven bags. Zhang Youping quickly stacked them together, knowing these bags would be lifesavers on the journey. Though the weather in Guangdong was warmer than back home, it was still cold in winter. Even though the truck bed blocked some of the wind, it was still freezing. Without protection, they might turn into human icicles on the way to Zijiang.

“Dear, don’t worry about the dirt. Just cover yourself with these bags. It’s a long journey. Don’t be fooled by how it’s not too cold now. Who knows how freezing it’ll get tonight,” Zhang Youping urged, seeing that Liu Qiaoye hesitated due to the dirt.

“As long as we can get home, I don’t care how dirty it is,” Liu Qiaoye said, as she squeezed into a nest made of woven bags with Zhang Youping. Huddled together, they watched the sky recede in the distance, eager to return home.

At Meizi’ao Horticultural Farm.

Many people had gathered, much like when the village used to hold big meetings during the production team days. The concrete yard of the horticultural farm was packed with villagers who had brought their own stools. Since land was divided among households, such large gatherings had become rare. Nowadays, with many homes owning televisions, even village movie screenings couldn’t gather such crowds.

“Jiaohua, our village has a lot of vacant land. Since you agreed with Dayun, if the villagers want to plant tea trees, you can’t refuse,” Ma Donghua from the Ma family at Paoma’an said with a smile.

“My agreement with Dayun has nothing to do with everyone planting tea. I can agree to whomever I wish. Planting tea isn’t a sure thing. No one can guarantee that tea will still be as profitable in the future as it is this year. I’m not the one buying the tea. Zijiang Tea Factory is a state-owned enterprise. Now that Uncle Zhao is the factory director, he can guarantee they’ll buy our tea, but if there’s a new director in the future, they might not come to our village. If that happens and the tea rots, you’ll all blame me. Dayun, on the other hand, has assured me that if Zijiang comes to buy tea, he’ll sell it, and if they don’t, he won’t blame me. Can any of you promise the same? Tea trees grow slowly, and by the time they mature, the market could change. Other places are planting fruit trees now—when their trees bear fruit and make money, and your tea trees don’t, you’ll blame me. I’m just a child in primary school; don’t come to me to make such big decisions. I can’t guarantee anything,” Zhang Jiaohua, despite being young, knew better than to make promises he couldn’t keep.

Zhang Dechun quickly added, “Jiaohua’s right. He may be clever, but he’s still a child. If you want to plant tea, I won’t oppose it, and I encourage everyone to engage in farming. But you all need to understand the risks. Right now, tea is in high demand, but it may not stay that way. If the market shifts and your tea trees don’t sell, don’t blame anyone but yourselves. Remember, the horticultural farm wasn’t in great shape when Jiaohua took it over. It was nearly abandoned, with all the tea trees dying.”

Some villagers had come just to get assurances from Zhang Jiaohua, unwilling to bear the risks themselves. But, as Zhang Dechun pointed out, they had to take responsibility for their own choices.