amaotonovel Chapter 1284 Mountain Back Brigade
Chapter 1284 Mountain Back Brigade
Chapter 1284 Mountain Back Brigade
Qin Hao's gaze swept over the dilapidated mud house that could barely be called a "home." The mud walls were mottled and worn by the erosion of time, revealing the withered grass and broken wheat straw mixed inside. Several patches of plaster had bulged and peeled, as if they would fall off at any moment.
The wooden beams of the roof were stained dark brown by the smoke, and spider webs spread rampantly in the corners of the beams. Several gray-black spiders were leisurely lying in the center of the webs, completely ignoring the arrival of their new owner.
The rice jar in the corner was open, and a layer of dark yellow crust had formed on the bottom, which was the rice bran left over from last year mixed with traces of mold.
Qin Hao walked over and peered into the empty tank, where his own bewildered face was reflected. He couldn't help but smirk self-deprecatingly—in this state, even a mouse that crawled in would have to turn back crying, unable to find anything to fill its teeth.
He walked around the room twice, his footsteps landing on the yellow earth, raising fine dust. Finally, under the low cabinet next to the stove, he found half a basket of sweet potatoes. He picked one up and weighed it in his hand, then pulled out a few dry twigs from the pile of firewood beside the stove and lit them with a match.
The orange-red flames licked the firewood, crackling softly, and soon leaped half a foot high. Qin Hao buried the sweet potatoes one by one into the gradually piling up ashes, and used a twig to stir them, ensuring each sweet potato was coated with a thick layer of hot ash.
Before long, a sweet aroma emerged from the ash heap. At first, it was faint, but as the fire grew stronger, the aroma became more and more intense, with a mellow, caramel-like quality, and it filled the small earthen house.
Qin Hao unconsciously swallowed, used a twig to clear away the ashes, revealing the charred and cracked skin of a sweet potato. The heat and aroma wafted over him. He picked one up and tossed it back and forth in his hand, peeling off the charred skin to reveal the golden and soft sweet potato flesh, still steaming.
He took a bite, and the sweet, mealy texture melted on his tongue, burning him so much he gasped for breath, but he couldn't bear to stop. After three sweet potatoes, his empty stomach finally felt warmer, and the dizziness caused by low blood sugar was relieved considerably.
Qin Hao leaned against the stove, rubbing the remaining half of the sweet potato in his hand, his brows furrowing more and more tightly.
"1978..."
Next year will be the first year of reform and opening up, but for now, the ironclad rules of the planned economy still tightly bind everyone's hands and feet. Occasionally, you can hear people secretly reselling goods on the streets, but once accused of "speculation and profiteering," the lightest punishment is being paraded through the streets, and the heaviest is imprisonment. Getting a job in a factory? That's even more of a pipe dream. Without an urban household registration, without connections, a genuine farmer can't even get close to the factory gates.
Do I really have to make furniture to make a living like before?
Qin Hao stuffed the remaining sweet potato into his mouth, licked the last bit of sweet potato scraps clean, patted the ash off his hands, and got up to extinguish the stove fire. Only after confirming it wouldn't reignite did he push open the creaking wooden door and go outside.
The sunlight outside was a bit dazzling, and Qin Hao squinted, taking a while to adjust before he could see his surroundings clearly. Scattered around the mud house were a few other houses, all with similar mud walls and thatched roofs. The courtyard walls were mostly made of yellow mud mixed with straw, and many parts had collapsed, revealing the uneven fences inside.
"Haozi, are you feeling better?" Auntie from next door passed by the door carrying a bamboo basket half full of wild vegetables, which looked freshly dug. She was wearing a blue homespun jacket covered in patches, the cuffs worn shiny. When she saw Qin Hao, a simple smile spread across her face.
"Much better, Second Aunt," Qin Hao replied with a smile and a nod.
"That's good, young people are just too strong to handle all that." Auntie said in a rambling voice.
Qin Hao continued walking. Along the way, he encountered many villagers: some carrying hoes to work in the fields, some sitting at their doorways sewing shoe soles, and several teenagers chasing and playing in the mud, their faces covered in dirt, but their laughter was clear and loud.
When Qin Hao arrived at the village team headquarters, an old man in a dark blue cadre uniform was squatting at the door smoking a pipe. When he saw Qin Hao pass by, he quickly tapped his pipe and stood up, saying, "Haozi, come here for a moment."
This was the former Party Secretary of Xiaolei Village, a man of high prestige in the village. He walked over and said, "Uncle, you were looking for me?"
The old Party Secretary pulled him into the team headquarters. The room was simply furnished: a wooden table with peeling paint, two long benches, and several bundles of documents piled in the corner. The old Party Secretary took out a kraft paper envelope from a drawer; the edges of the envelope were somewhat worn.
"Uncle has something to do this afternoon and can't get away." He handed the envelope to Qin Hao: "Could you please deliver this letter to Director Yang of the Shanbei Brigade for me?"
Qin Hao took the envelope: "Don't worry, I will definitely deliver it."
"Be careful, don't lose it," the old Party Secretary added.
"Understood." Qin Hao put the envelope in his pocket. Since he had nothing better to do, he figured a trip to Shanbei Brigade would be a good opportunity to familiarize himself with the environment, so he readily agreed.
It's about three or four miles from Xiaolei Village to Shanbei Brigade, and a winding dirt road winds through several rice paddies. Qin Hao walked slowly along the dirt road, the soil under his feet was damp and soft, carrying the scent of rain.
In the rice paddies on both sides of the road, the rice plants were sparse, leaning to one side and standing sparsely in the ground.
Qin Hao stopped and frowned as he surveyed the field. He remembered that in the original owner's memories, the Lei family's land was actually quite good—fertile soil and easy to irrigate. But the sight before him was truly appalling. The rice seedlings were growing unevenly; some were almost ankle-deep, while others were barely above the water's surface, their leaves speckled with withered yellow spots, clearly indicating a lack of water and fertilizer.
"This isn't farming, it's just swindling!"
However, this situation is quite normal. Nowadays, everyone works from the same pot, so whether you work hard or not, you get the same pay. Who would be willing to work hard? Anyway, whether the grain is harvested or not, it all goes to the public, and you don't get any benefit from it. So you might as well save your energy.
He shook his head and continued walking. In this social atmosphere where "doing good or bad makes no difference," everyone has developed the habit of being lazy and shirking responsibility. How could Xiao Lei's family not be poor?
After walking for about half an hour, the brick and tile houses of the Shanbei Brigade People's Commune finally came into view. Compared to Xiao Lei's mud-brick house, this place was obviously much more impressive. Above the gate hung a sign that read "Shanbei Brigade People's Commune," the red lettering of which had faded somewhat but was still eye-catching.
Qin Hao had just reached the door when he heard hurried footsteps. Looking up, he saw a boy and a girl running towards him from a distance. The boy was about seventeen or eighteen years old, wearing a faded blue cotton jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his thin but muscular forearms. His face showed a mixture of stubbornness and anxiety.
The girl was slightly older than him, with two braids, her bangs damp with sweat and clinging to her face, her eyes filled with worry.
Qin Hao's heart skipped a beat—weren't these Song Yunhui and her brother?
In the instant their eyes met, Song Yunhui instinctively grabbed his sister's hand and, without stopping, rushed up the steps to the commune entrance.
Song Yunping stumbled slightly as her younger brother pulled her along. She turned back to Qin Hao, pursed her lips, and gave him an apologetic look.
Qin Hao watched their hurried figures go upstairs and smiled thoughtfully.
He went up to the second floor and, as he passed an office, heard arguing coming from inside. He stopped and peeked through the half-open door. He saw Song Yunhui and her brother standing in front of a desk, with a gaunt old man sitting opposite them. This old man was none other than "Old Monkey" from Xiao Lei Village. He was a cunning and mean-spirited fellow, like a cunning old monkey, which is why everyone in the village called him Old Monkey.
He was wearing an ill-fitting cadre uniform, the collar of which was open, revealing his loose neck. He was pointing at Song Yunhui and his sister, spitting as he reprimanded them: "Socialist universities are not for people like you."
Song Yunhui's face turned red with anger, and his lips trembled as he said, "The policy states that admissions are based on exam scores, so why should we consider family background?"
"Policy? It's us cadres who are responsible for implementing policies!" The old monkey slammed his fist on the table, his voice shrill. "I said no, and that's final. Get out of here and stop wasting my time!"
Song Yunping tugged at her brother's arm, her eyes reddening, but she held back her tears.
Qin Hao withdrew his gaze, a cold smile playing on his lips. This old monkey was only a distant relative, but he was a truly despicable person, obsessed with making trouble for others. Which family in the village hadn't been bullied by him? A few years ago, during the height of the political movement, he climbed the ranks and enjoyed a few good days by scheming against people, but now that the policies had changed, people like him had long been marginalized. He only dared to show off in front of young people like Song Yunhui and her brother, who had no connections.
Qin Hao didn't go in to get involved; he had important business to attend to. He went straight to the director's office at the end of the corridor and gently knocked on the door.
"Come in." A deep, steady male voice came from inside. Qin Hao pushed open the door and walked in. The office was much more spacious than the old monkey's. A thermos flask sat in the corner, and the desk was neatly tidy. A middle-aged man in his forties was sitting behind the desk reading documents. He was wearing a crisp cadre uniform, his hair was combed neatly, and his face had a serious expression.
"Hello, Director Yang, I'm from Xiao Lei's village." Qin Hao bowed slightly, introduced himself, and then took out an envelope from his pocket and handed it over: "This is a letter from Secretary Lei of our village that I asked you to give to you."
Director Yang put down the documents in his hand, took the envelope, opened it, and quickly scanned the letter inside. His brows furrowed, his face darkened, and he slammed the letter on the table: "Your Xiao Lei family didn't even pay your full grain tax last year, and now you're asking the brigade for grain? Where's your old Party Secretary? Why isn't he here himself?"
Qin Hao rolled his eyes inwardly, finally understanding why the old Party Secretary hadn't come himself—he was clearly afraid of being scolded, so he pushed him out as a shield.
He composed himself, his face showing just the right amount of embarrassment: "Director Yang, please don't be angry. Our old Party Secretary went up the mountain to inspect the irrigation canal a few days ago and accidentally broke his leg. He originally planned to come here in person on crutches, but we persuaded him not to. As you know, our Xiaolei Village is remote, and the mountain road is difficult to travel back and forth. If something else were to happen, it would be a real problem."
He spoke with sincerity and earnestness, and Director Yang's expression softened somewhat. He picked up the enamel mug on the table, took a sip of tea, and sighed, "I'm not trying to criticize you, but constantly asking the brigade for money isn't a solution. Can't you think of a way to increase grain production?"
These words were originally just Director Yang's casual grumbling to vent his dissatisfaction, but unexpectedly Qin Hao suddenly stood up straight, his expression becoming extremely solemn: "Director Yang, it's not that we don't want to increase grain production, the key is that the policy doesn't allow it."
Director Yang paused, put down his enamel mug, and looked at him with a puzzled expression: "Why doesn't the policy allow it? Tell me."
Qin Hao cleared his throat and organized his thoughts: "Look, right now we're operating on a system of equal distribution, where everyone gets the same pay regardless of how much or how well they work. The villagers go to the fields but don't put in the effort; they all get the same work points and the same amount of grain at the end of the month anyway. Anyone who works hard not only doesn't get any benefits, but they're also laughed at for being stupid. If this continues, who will be motivated to farm properly? How can grain production possibly increase?"
Director Yang's nonchalant expression gradually disappeared. He remained silent for a moment, then tapped his fingers lightly on the table: "Then tell me, what kind of policy can make Xiaolei Village rich?"
Qin Hao deliberately kept everyone in suspense, shrugging his shoulders: "It's no use telling me, I probably wouldn't even be able to get past you."
"You little rascal, you're keeping me in suspense." Director Yang was amused by him, and the seriousness on his face lessened considerably: "Just say what you have to say, don't hold back. I don't believe there's anything I can't hear."
Qin Hao looked into his eyes and said, word by word, "Distribute the land to individual households."
Director Yang stood up abruptly, his face instantly darkening, his brows furrowing into a knot. "Young comrade, your thinking is very dangerous! The household responsibility system is a capitalist system; it's a step backward!"
Qin Hao calmly said, "Director Yang, you should be very clear about the current social atmosphere. With everyone eating from the same pot, who will really put in the effort? Anyway, it's all public property. Those who slack off get the benefits, and those who work hard get the losses. In the long run, who will be willing to put in the effort?"
Director Yang frowned and asked, "But wouldn't distributing land to individual households be capitalism? Wouldn't the common people suddenly become landlords? That won't do."
Qin Hao smiled and said, "Director Yang, the one and a half acres of land allocated to the village is barely enough to support a family. How does that make you a landlord? Besides, given the current climate, even if the land were distributed to individual households, many people would disagree. I'm just saying this for your consideration. I won't acknowledge it once I leave this house. Don't come back and accuse me of undermining socialism. I'm too big for my head to bear that label."
Director Yang was amused: "Don't worry, that kind of thing isn't popular anymore. Those people who labeled you have all stepped aside."
After pausing, Director Yang asked again, "Then tell me, if you were to lead Xiaolei Village to prosperity, what would you do?"
Qin Hao only said one sentence: "When the land is distributed to individual households, what is handed over to the public, what is left for the collective, and what is left is all yours."
Director Yang pondered Qin Hao's words, finding them increasingly interesting: "By the way, after chatting for so long, I still don't know how to address you, young comrade."
Lei Hao
Director Yang nodded thoughtfully: "Alright then, you can go back first. When your old Party Secretary's leg is better, have him come to me. I have something to say to him."
Qin Hao got up to say goodbye, pushed open the door and walked out of the office. Just as he reached the bottom of the stairs to the second floor, he saw Song Yunhui and her brother coming out of the office next door. Song Yunhui had her head down, her fists clenched tightly, and her shoulders trembling slightly; she was clearly very angry.
Song Yunping's eyes were red, and her face was full of disappointment and exhaustion. When she saw Qin Hao, she was stunned for a moment, then lowered her head and silently walked away with her younger brother.