RYEY -Chapter 267 Premature Birth

The snow fell heavier and heavier. Standing in the wheat fields covered with three layers of plastic sheeting, Li Huan stared in amazement at the robust, thriving wheat, his heart surging with excitement.

Cheng Qiao had said it herself—these wheat seedlings had been watered with spirit spring water. If they couldn’t withstand a mere ten-plus degrees below zero, then how could that water still be called spiritual?

She had even taken out several bottles of well water that shimmered faintly with golden light and handed them to Li Huan, telling him to dilute it ten thousand times and use it to irrigate the fields.

Li Huan had done this in secret. Sure enough, land nourished by the spirit water gradually darkened in color, clearly transforming into fertile farmland.

Soon it was time again for Li Huan to go to the commune to collect his salary. This time, he brought the commune secretary back with him. When the secretary saw the wheat in the fields—already half-mature—his joy was unmistakable.

If winter wheat could be harvested successfully, not only would Li Huan receive recognition from higher authorities, but even his own long-unchanged position might finally see some movement.

Following Li Huan to his home, the commune secretary noticed Cheng Qiao’s slightly rounded belly and couldn’t help but feel envious.

This little rogue really had it all—success in both career and family. Such tremendous good fortune. Looking at Cheng Qiao’s belly, he joked about whether he could become the child’s godfather in the future.

Judging by age, he was a bit old to be a godfather, but too young to be a god-grandfather. After weighing it, godfather seemed more suitable—and closer, too.

Cheng Qiao hesitated. If this child turned out to be a boy, he would certainly be adopted by her master. If it was a girl, she would definitely carry the Li surname.

Seeing the difficulty on Cheng Qiao’s face, the secretary immediately realized his suggestion had been too abrupt. He hurriedly said he was just joking. Only then did Cheng Qiao finally relax.

Several months passed, and at last it was time to harvest the winter wheat. That day, Li Huan held a loudspeaker, shouting stirring slogans to rally the villagers into action.

In truth, he didn’t need to urge them. Everyone’s heart already burned with a fire—a fire fueled by the thrill of seeing granaries full and the land at peace.

As the villagers worked tirelessly to harvest the winter wheat, the commune secretary arrived with county leaders and several reporters. The reporters could hardly believe their eyes. Only after the photographs were developed did they feel as though they had woken from a dream.

The county leaders were even more astonished. Wheat that once yielded barely over two hundred jin per mu now produced more than three hundred jin per mu—and the quality was even better.

“Invite Li Huan over,” one of them said. “We need this batch of wheat seeds to trial-plant in other areas. If similar yields can be achieved, I’ll credit you with a merit.”

The commune secretary looked troubled. Last year, Xiangyang Village had suffered floods and lost all its harvest. The villagers survived the winter only thanks to the coarse grain Li Huan had obtained.

Now, with a bountiful harvest right before their eyes, being asked to hand over grain for experiments in other villages would surely provoke resentment.

The county leader nodded in understanding. Killing the chicken to get the egg was clearly a foolish move. They decided to take only a portion for small-scale trials. As for how much—that would be up to them to calculate and balance.

With his head hanging low, the commune secretary invited Li Huan to the office and haltingly conveyed the higher-ups’ intentions. Seeing a shift in Li Huan’s expression, he quickly took out a banner he had prepared in advance.

“Xiangyang Village truly deserves the title of Advanced Collective Village. This time, not only is the bonus generous, there are also two quotas for Worker-Peasant-Soldier University. Of course… some wheat seeds still need to be handed over.”

Li Huan rolled his eyes. If Cheng Qiao hadn’t told him that she could produce this kind of wheat seed anytime she wanted, he wouldn’t have bothered with these people at all—he could always just quit being village chief.

Besides, Cheng Qiao had said that after months of irrigation with diluted spirit spring water, the land of Xiangyang Village could achieve the same quality and yield even with ordinary wheat seeds.

“Fine,” Li Huan said. “We’ll give you seeds from three mu of land. Not a bit more. Our villagers are still waiting to divide the grain.”

The commune secretary felt disappointed—only three mu worth of seed—but seeing Li Huan’s clear take-it-or-leave-it attitude, he obediently shut his mouth.

If it were the former village chief, Chen Weidang, he wouldn’t have given up even a single mu’s worth of wheat. He had dozens of reasons ready to refute any request. Thankfully, the current village chief was Li Huan.

Li Huan struck the gong again. Every villager arrived at the drying ground in high spirits, stools in hand. They knew that once this season’s wheat was distributed, it would be time to start sowing the spring crops.

“There’s good news and bad news,” Li Huan announced. “Which do you want to hear?”

The crowd exchanged glances and unanimously chose the good news. Smiling, Li Huan took out two pink envelopes. At a glance, everyone knew—Worker-Peasant-Soldier University quotas.

The entire village erupted. Two quotas! Who should they go to? Chen Weidang’s family was out of the question—their eldest, Damao, was already a Worker-Peasant-Soldier University student.

Then Auntie Wang’s son, Wang Xiangyang, was surely one. But who would get the remaining one? The once-united villagers began to eye one another warily, unwilling to see it given to anyone else.

“This time, I’m making the decision alone,” Li Huan said. “One quota goes to Wang Xiangyang. The other goes to me.”

The moment he spoke, the entire place fell silent. No one had imagined that Li Huan himself would attend Worker-Peasant-Soldier University. But thinking it over, it made sense—how could he give up such an opportunity?

Cheng Qiao was furious. It was already 1975. By the end of next year, the college entrance examination would be reinstated—and yet he was going to attend Worker-Peasant-Soldier University! But with so many people present, she had no way to vent her anger.

Li Huan looked at Cheng Qiao apologetically. I’m sorry, wife. I really can’t pass the exams. He didn’t even know what ABCD stood for, let alone odd and even numbers or functions—just hearing about them made his head spin.

Better to go to Worker-Peasant-Soldier University for a round or two. At least he’d come back as a college graduate. With a few professional titles added, he could finally keep pace with his wife.

“Huan, if you go off to school, what will happen to Xiangyang Village?” someone asked.

“Isn’t Uncle Weidang here?” Li Huan replied. “And Uncle Duocai and Uncle Yuejin can help too, can’t they?”

Chen Yuejin could hunt, Wang Duocai was sharp, and Chen Weidang was fair. This trio was perfect—enough for Li Huan to set aside his burdens and move forward with ease.

The moment Cheng Qiao heard this, she knew Li Huan had planned everything in advance. Such a considerate man—yet he’d used strategy against her. Her eyes reddened with anger. A sharp pain struck her abdomen, her face turning pale.

Li Huan had been feeling guilty all along, worried that Cheng Qiao was unhappy. He never expected that she would be angered into premature labor—and right there on the drying ground.

Mother Li’s eyes widened. She grabbed a firewood stick and swung it at Li Huan, but Auntie Wang stopped her. This wasn’t the time for beating him—judging by the situation, there was no time to send her to the hospital.

Several women hurriedly fetched a wooden door panel and lifted Cheng Qiao onto it, rushing her home. Seeing Mother Li standing there in a daze, Auntie Wang immediately dashed into the kitchen to boil water, then told Li Le to run to the village midwife’s house and bring her over as fast as possible to help deliver the baby.

Ye Jun was frantic as well. He hadn’t expected Cheng Qiao to go into premature labor. This child was a full month early—no one knew whether Cheng Qiao would be able to make it through this ordeal.