Chapter 39: Your Entire Family Is Filled with Hidden Dragons and Phoenix Chicks

Forty years later, people understood this well: “Everything must be done according to regulations and the law. Even if a decision or policy is wrong, that’s a problem for those above; no one knows until you try it, so you have to push it forward and see. Why is he always causing a stir, stepping out of line? Isn’t he just making himself the spark, the firestarter for others?”

Policy changes in taxation were the most frequent: “Let’s try it in a small scope first—if it works, expand it; if not, quietly shelve it and make changes. That’s exactly what I told the reporters: in a big family like this, it’s normal for some things to move fast and others slow. Either you keep your head down like most people, working and living without worrying about the bigger picture, or, if you can see the problems and can’t stand it, you leave for somewhere else. But you don’t have to make yourself the sacrificial spark, ramming your head against the wall…”

After thinking for a moment, he added, “I’m not saying the old revolutionaries who sacrificed themselves for justice were wrong, but things are different now. It’s not a matter of enemies and allies, it’s about uneven development or simply disputes over differing views. If you insist on being the grindstone… isn’t that a kind of madness?”

With Dong Xueying, who knew You Qili quite well, Weidong was better able to follow in the footsteps of this “master.”

He was at the peak of his intellect just after the college entrance exams: “No, no, he’s not mad—he’s smart enough to see the direction of policy. He’s gambling that if he’s chosen and recognized, he’ll soar to great heights, and if he loses, well, he had nothing to lose anyway. That’s why he dares to act this way, but we’d be fools to follow him and let ourselves be used as chips.”

Dong Xueying looked at the young man holding her daughter, her gaze gentle, though she tried to hide it: “Then why must we follow him?”

She quickly added, “You said yourself he brings hardship to everyone around him.”

Weidong, ever ready to play along, chuckled, “He’s actually right about the overall direction, and it’s impressive how he can see the big picture. But when it comes to actually doing things, he’s not that capable. Sister Dong, it’s simple: once we’re clear about the direction, we should just do business properly, not try to profit from political capital and dream of instant success. If we follow him, we’ll be riding the smoothest currents.”

The kind of brainwashing, akin to a pyramid scheme, was intense and almost frenzied. Someone like You Qili, who stood out like a crane among chickens, held undeniable appeal for those around him, not just in Shangzhou but possibly across the country.

But whether it was the butcher from that night or the difficult road upward, Dong Xueying had already been frightened and tormented to her limit.

More likely, it was the sight of her daughter now, curled up in cozy sleep, content and safe, that made her whisper, “Hearing you say so, I do feel that Old You really has a lot of flaws in the details. I warned him about ‘Eight Characters’ being a problem, but he just said we have nothing to hide, so we’re not afraid of traitors…”

That former blind veneration was rapidly fading.

She relaxed completely, and the dinner was spent in easy conversation and laughter—a scene that truly resembled a family of three dining out.

The young woman was keen to ask about Weidong’s standards for choosing a wife, making the lifelong bachelor of forty years feel a bit embarrassed.

When they returned to the old street and went their separate ways, everyone was in good spirits. Dong Xueying, holding her daughter’s hand, sweetly bid him goodbye, “Uncle, see you again.”

To his surprise, Weidong felt a bit reluctant to part. Of course, he told himself it was the desire for children, for family.

He had no designs on Dong Xueying.

A divorced woman in 1983 would indeed be the talk of the whole city, her story on everyone’s lips.

At least in the rather closed-off eastern Sichuan, that was still the prevailing attitude.

His own mother, for one, would never accept it.

Dong Xueying thought so as well, which was why she had her own plans.

The next morning, she brought breakfast over to his place: “I’m not going with you today. Be careful, keep the receipts—I’ll settle the taxes at the end.”

Weidong, rushing out, agreed and reached out to fondly touch the child’s face, his smile lingering until he got behind the wheel.

The drivers, together with him, braved two more townships, even devising a highly efficient three-truck team: each group handled two townships, shuttling back and forth—a much faster system than all moving together.

They discussed trying two-truck teams running in shifts the next day to see if they could squeeze in another run.

Damn, they’d never been this eager when working for work points at the transport company.

Weidong was exhausted but made several thousand yuan through sweat and tears. On today’s trip, he followed his memory to the livestock farm in Shangzhou’s outskirts, where he bought two jin of fresh goat’s milk and two packs of locally made milk powder.

It was already dark, and his stomach was rumbling, but he hurried home instead of eating out and knocked on the door.

To his surprise, a slim young woman answered. She was wary at first but quickly smiled, “Are you Brother Wei? My sister said to wait for you to come home for dinner.”

Weidong’s first reaction was, well, so this is the girl guarding over two hundred houses.

But he didn’t care much; all he knew was that Dong Xueying likely had nothing to do with Old You right now.

The neighbors were all watching, and with the current climate of open investigations searching for any hint of impropriety, if there were a scandal, it would have surfaced by now—so there simply wasn’t one.

He nodded, showed her what he’d brought, and stepped inside. In the kitchen, he presented the goods to the busy young woman: “I wrapped things up early today and passed by the livestock farm, so I bought some goat’s milk and milk powder. I heard this combination helps children’s brain development.”

These were the kind of sayings he’d often heard from the elders in the mailroom.

Dong Xueying, wearing an old-fashioned headscarf, lowered her head and answered, clutching the chopsticks so tightly she nearly broke them, quickly setting the table and unfastening the baby carrier from her back.

Weidong sat the child on his lap at the table and began eating, joking, “Later I’ll go bring back that refrigerator I bought—it’s mine, so we can store the fresh milk. And tomorrow we could buy some lamb to make soup for the child; the rest of the meat we adults can eat.”

If it weren’t for the child, he would hardly remember the people.

Dong Xueying, restraining herself from looking at him, introduced her sister: “Xueqing is in her final year at the Provincial Post and Telecommunications School. She’ll definitely get a job in the city after graduating this year.”

Weidong looked at her in surprise: “A top student! Study hard, and if you need anything, tell your sister—she can arrange it. Aim to do well in the telecom technical departments in the future.”

He’d just graduated from high school himself and knew the value.

In the 1980s, the best middle school students didn’t aim for college but for technical secondary schools after junior high, so they could start working and earning a state salary in their teens, building their careers early.

At least in small towns, that was how it was.

And the Sichuan Provincial Post and Telecom School, directly under the Ministry of Posts and Telecommunications, was almost on par with the nation’s top universities, with extremely limited spots. When he graduated junior high, he hadn’t even dared to dream of getting in.

Ironically, finishing high school and then aiming for college was statistically more likely.

The younger sister, just back from the provincial capital, showed no sign of urban sophistication. She wore a plain dark blue padded jacket and had two neat pigtails.

But her eyes were big and bright as she studied him: “I study communications technology. I’ll probably be assigned to the post and telecom bureau. I want to come back to Shangzhou and help build my hometown.”

Weidong didn’t even look up: “That’s the slogan, of course. But in reality, Shangzhou isn’t worth your sacrifice. The backwardness here is because the leadership’s thinking is behind the times. If your family’s rare scholar stays here for a few years, you might miss out on the great opportunities of this era. The capital, Jiangzhou, even Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, Shenzhen—those big cities are the best choices.”

The older sister said nothing, just pushed the only dish of cured meat toward the other two.

Dong Xueqing was clearly determined: “My sister has suffered for me for years. I want to stay with her and support the family with my salary.”

Weidong thought to himself, what short-sightedness: “You studied so hard for so many years and did so well, just to come back and suffer with your sister? No need. Your sister won’t suffer anymore in this life. Let me put it this way: in these three days, we’ve made over two thousand a day. She’s just principled and hasn’t taken her share yet, so it’s set aside for now. I certainly won’t leave any for Old You; I’m just cleaning up his mess.”

Dong Xueying, bent over and silent like a peasant woman, murmured, “I can’t leave before they’re released, so I’m still a sales clerk at the trading company. We’ll talk when Old You gets out.”

Weidong smiled and agreed: “You’re the one with that chivalrous spirit the reporter spoke of. That’s good. Tomorrow we finish the last two citrus runs, then start hauling sand and gravel the day after. But the Spring Festival isn’t far off. I plan to just do a few runs to keep the contract stable until after the festival—no rush, the sand and gravel won’t spoil.”

Dong Xueying nodded and turned the conversation to her sister: “So, what do you think now? Do you still want to return to Shangzhou?”

The technical school student, still observing, said, “I’m so grateful Brother Wei saved and helped my sister. She told me you have great vision and capability, just like she used to say about Uncle You. I was amazed that a small place like Shangzhou could have a ‘Crouching Dragon and Young Phoenix’…”

What a thing to say—it was an insult in later times.

Weidong couldn’t help but spit: “You’re the Crouching Dragon and Young Phoenix, your whole family is! Don’t use that comparison; it’s unlucky.”

The younger girl didn’t quite understand but let it go: “Anyway, you really surprised me. I’ve never met anyone with your insight and attitude.”

Weidong replied firmly, “That’s because you haven’t seen the world. All the more reason not to come back to Shangzhou; it’ll only make you more closed off and stagnant. What a waste of your achievements—and your sister’s years of support.”

Dong Xueqing glanced at her silent, downcast sister, then spoke frankly: “So what’s your relationship with my sister now?”

Weidong answered with righteous candor: “Colleagues. The situation is complicated. I’m staying in Shangzhou… Anyway, during this period, your sister and I will support each other to get the job done. After the festival, we have to go north to collect tallow. I really admire Old You’s boldness.”

The girl frowned in puzzlement: “But my sister is divorced and raising a child. Having meals and taking care of the child with you every day—what does that mean?”

Before he could answer, her sister spoke up: “It means immense kindness. You’re both nearly twenty, educated, with bright futures. One day you’ll both build your lives in big cities. Get to know each other—if you don’t mind, I’ll just keep house and help with the child.”

Weidong finally caught on: “Are you matchmaking?”

The older sister did her best to smile: “I know you have high aspirations and a great future ahead. As long as you’re willing to take care of Xueqing, even if you don’t become a couple, you can be friends, help each other at work. For the rest of my life, Xiaodie and I will do whatever it takes to repay your kindness.”

Before he could reply, the younger sister burst into tears: “No! You’ve always given me the best. He’s meant to be my brother-in-law—if you’ll be my brother-in-law, I’ll spend my life working for you!”

At last, Weidong realized: these two sisters were the real Crouching Dragon and Young Phoenix!