RYEY -Chapter 359 The Road to Wealth

“Here, this is the receipt. Just sign it, pay the money, and you can take the tractor. But… does anyone in your village even know how to drive a tractor?”

“This…”

“Also, you’re no longer the village chief of Xiangyang Village. A new chief has been assigned by the higher-ups to Xiangyang Commune, but I held back the appointment because I know you have your own people.”

“He’s my good brother. I suggest Wang Xiangyang be the village chief of Xiangyang Village. As for the other village chief position, let’s give it to Xiangqian Village. The old village chief there is almost seventy, so let him serve as deputy first and promote him in two years.”

Li Huan knew Wang Xiangyang had given up his assigned post because it really wasn’t a desirable job, so he relinquished it immediately.

Xiangyang Commune governed five villages: Xiangyang Village, Xiangqian Village, Xianghou Village, Xiangrong Village, and Xiangshui Village. They were all next to each other, clustered around the foot of Xiangyang Mountain.

Li Huan was the village chief of Xiangyang Village and regularly interacted with the chiefs of the other villages. He knew Xiangqian Village best, because Qian Longxin and Zhao Xiaobei had once served there as young educated youths.

The village chief of Xiangqian Village was old and frail, no longer suitable to run the village. But if they suddenly forced him to step down, and he couldn’t handle the shock… well, that could create enemies.

So, the person appointed by higher-ups would first serve as deputy. Whether he could eventually replace the old chief would depend on his own abilities.

The new commune secretary shook his head slightly. The old secretary was right. Although he had been promoted to secretary, the old secretary still advised him to listen to Li Huan’s suggestions.

“Secretary Gao, there’s another issue. The long-distance bus from our county to Spring City only runs once a day. If there’s an urgent matter, you’d have to wait an extra day—it’s inconvenient.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I’ll write an application to increase the number of buses to Spring City from one to two per day—one at 7 a.m., the other at 12 noon. The return trips would match.”

“Wow… that means two more buses. These aren’t bicycles—they’re coaches. Do you really think that’s feasible?”

“A man can’t say it’s impossible. I’ll draft it, you stamp it. Since the higher-ups trust us this much, we must show results.”

Secretary Gao felt uneasy. This didn’t seem like doing work; it felt like courting disaster.

“Also, Secretary Gao, I suggest our villagers in Xiangyang take on pig farming. If the goal is economic development, it must start with improving people’s livelihoods.”

“Pig farming… this…”

Secretary Gao was confused. There were five villages—how many pigs would they need? How would sales work? Selling to the state seemed cheap; selling privately—would that violate policy?

“Other villages should develop too—raising chickens, ducks, rabbits, or running side businesses. As long as we use our brains, nothing is impossible.”

“Side businesses? How?”

“Xiangrong Village seems to grow sugarcane. Let them make sugar in the village. As for how, we can hire a teacher and set up a small workshop.”

“Xiangshui Village has abundant water. Let them raise fish and build fish ponds.”

Sweat appeared on Secretary Gao’s forehead. He felt Li Huan was painting an attractive picture—but could they actually accomplish it?

Li Huan saw Secretary Gao’s flustered look and grinned. He had been like this last night, following all the advice from Cheng Qiao.

Having lived a previous life, he knew exactly how many money-making opportunities would appear after the Reform and Opening, though most people didn’t know how to take advantage of them.

Pig and poultry farming was real—but not in Xiangyang Village itself. It would take place in a rural area near Spring City, which had become wealthy within a few years, with every household owning a three-story tile-roofed house.

Most importantly, Cheng Qiao remembered that in 1982 or 1983, all communes were abolished and replaced by township governments—this would be Li Huan’s best chance to step away safely.

Secretary Gao looked at Li Huan’s smiling face and couldn’t process it. How could someone so new, still without a work ID, already have so many ideas? No wonder the old secretary told him to listen to Li Huan.

“Li Huan, do you really think all these things can be done?”

“Yes. You handle the procedures; I’ll write the reports.”

“Ah…”

A full-fledged commune secretary personally assisting a director like Li Huan with HR, finances, and paperwork—everyone in the commune was confused about who was actually in charge.

Applications were sent one by one. Most were ignored, which relieved Secretary Gao—after all, the higher-ups didn’t have unlimited funds.

Furthermore, every suggestion Li Huan made was significant. If they failed, villagers’ property would be at risk, and they would be personally liable.

Li Huan, however, wasn’t discouraged. He knew these proposals would unsettle county leaders—they couldn’t accept them fully but couldn’t reject them outright. Financial pressure was their weak point—but he had backing.

Cheng Qiao’s uncle, Zhao Hui, was constantly looking for investment projects. Besides buying houses and shops, he also had access to the local wholesale market—there seemed to be no better investments.

A week later, Li Huan walked into the county government with investment materials. The first success was Xiangyang Village’s pig-farming enterprise, and Wang Xiangyang’s appointment as village chief was confirmed.

Wang Xiangyang took the chief’s seat. His first action was to have Ermao gather all the village funds, plus subsidies Li Huan had applied for, and trade the receipt for a tractor.

When Auntie Wang heard the news, she nearly went crazy with joy—searching the house, wanting to host a feast, set off firecrackers, and show off. She was finally the village chief’s mother—truly.

The tractor was finally brought home. Li Huan hired a driver to operate it, and they discussed who would drive it regularly.

As the “vroom vroom vroom” sound approached, all villagers lined the small road to welcome them. Li Huan and Wang Xiangyang stood in the tractor’s rear platform, proudly waving their hands.

They had intended to wave both hands, but the uneven road and bouncing tires almost threw them off, so one hand held the platform while the other waved.

Auntie Wang, overwhelmed with excitement, ran out with a group of women waving small flags she had bought. The driver was startled and braked suddenly.

The tractor stopped, but Li Huan and Wang Xiangyang nearly toppled off. They glared at Auntie Wang, but she had no idea, shouting and dancing the yangge folk dance instead.