Chapter 16: Digging a Well

Zhou Yimin also began painting a grand vision for his grandparents.

And it really worked—elderly folks loved hearing such things.

Sure enough, as soon as the old man and old lady heard that their eldest grandson was building a house, preparing to get married, and planning to give them great-grandchildren, their minds were already wandering in fantasy, leaving all other concerns behind.

“Good, good! Have more kids, and Grandma will help take care of them,” the old lady said with a beaming smile.

She carefully put away the milk powder and brown sugar.

She hadn’t seen much milk powder before and couldn’t tell its quality, but this brown sugar was the best she’d ever come across—fine in texture, free of any strange odors or impurities.

Right now, sugar was still a rarity in China.

Things might improve next year. In November of 1960, the Cuban leader would visit China.

Cuba, with its tropical rainforest climate, focused primarily on sugarcane farming, with 55% of its arable land dedicated to it. Its industry was also centered around sugar production, accounting for over 7% of global sugar output, making Cuba the world’s leading sugar producer—often called the “World’s Sugar Jar.”

To support socialist allies economically and meet domestic sugar demands, China signed an agreement with Cuba to import 400,000 tons of Cuban sugar annually.

From then on, Cuban sugar would become a defining memory for an entire generation.

—

“Big Brother, Big Brother…”

The voices of Laifu and his siblings rang out from outside, getting closer.

“Go wipe your nose and wash your hands,” Zhou Yimin said to the three younger ones.

Especially Laicai—his snot was nearly dripping onto his lips. With a sudden sniff, he sucked it back in, making Zhou Yimin’s stomach churn.

Laifang was better, but she had a habit of sucking her fingers.

If it were their parents telling them to clean up, they might have just brushed it off. But when their big brother told them to wipe their noses and wash their hands, they dared not be sloppy, each taking the task seriously.

Zhou Yimin scooped a ladle of water and took them under the jujube tree to wash their hands.

The used water was then poured around the base of the tree.

“Big Brother, look! My hands are so clean,” Laifang spread her palms to show him.

Zhou Yimin nodded. “Mm, very good. Go inside now. Your aunt will make you some milk powder to drink in a bit.”

Hearing this, their grandmother reluctantly opened a packet of milk powder. She scooped a spoonful into each bowl, added warm water, and stirred it evenly.

A rich milky fragrance filled the air.

“Drink up! And remember to be grateful to your big brother,” she reminded them yet again, making Zhou Yimin laugh in exasperation.

The three little ones had never had anything this delicious before. They even licked their bowls clean.

Everyone had a small bowl, except for the old man—he preferred liquor over milk.

“Go call your mother back,” the old lady instructed Laifu after he finished drinking.

—

At the village canteen, the village chief and the others grinned as they looked at the piles of potatoes. With these, they wouldn’t have to worry about running out of food before the next grain harvest.

“The deer was your kill. Each of you gets to take ten pounds of potatoes home,” the old village chief said, being fair about it.

If anyone still dared to complain, he wouldn’t hesitate to put them in their place.

Zhou Dafu and his group didn’t hold back, picking out ten pounds each.

It was what they deserved, after all.

“What’s that?” The village chief pointed at some iron parts.

“No idea. They belong to Sixteenth Uncle. We’re about to take them over to him.”

When the village chief heard that Zhou Yimin had returned to the village, he decided to go along as well to thank him in person.

It was all thanks to Zhou Yimin that the village had gotten so many sweet potatoes and potatoes. Otherwise, their village might have faced starvation just like many others.

Zhou Dafu swaggered home with his ten pounds of potatoes.

And he had every right to—he had just brought home ten pounds of food.

“What are you so proud of? Try sneaking into the mountains again, and I’ll break your legs,” his father scolded him.

Besides, trading a whole deer for just ten pounds of potatoes—what was there to be smug about? What a fool! If they had taken the deer straight to town, they wouldn’t have had to hand it over to the collective.

Zhou Dafu didn’t dare argue with his father. Instead, he pulled out a meat bun he had saved and broke it apart, sharing it with his three younger siblings.

“Big Brother, this meat bun is so good!”

His siblings licked their fingers even after finishing.

—

The village chief followed the group carrying the drill rods to Zhou Yimin’s grandfather’s house.

Inside, his grandmother and Third Aunt were cutting fabric, praising its quality nonstop.

Especially Third Aunt—this was the first time in her life she had touched an entire bolt of fabric.

Her children were truly fortunate to have such a capable eldest brother.

Not only did he provide food and drink, but he even let them wear new clothes. She couldn’t help but admire her husband’s foresight—marrying into Zhou Yimin’s grandparents’ family.

For years, Zhou Xuqian had practically been like a son to the old couple.

And now, their fortune had finally arrived.

Thinking about it, she felt like all her hardships had finally paid off.

“Make the clothes a little bigger—kids grow fast,” the old lady reminded.

“Mm! I got it, Aunt.”

—

Outside, Zhou Yimin handed out cigarettes to those helping move the water pump parts, giving each person a Da Qianmen cigarette. None of them could bear to light it right away.

“Yimin, we really owe you this time,” the village chief said.

“Don’t say that, Chief. You gave me the game to trade, which helped me build up my work record. We helped each other out. I wasn’t supposed to get my promotion this fast, but after sending those two wild boars to the factory, it’s a done deal,” Zhou Yimin said with a smile.

“That’s great! From now on, whenever we get game, we’ll send it straight to you,” the village chief promised.

Zhou Yimin’s grandfather snorted. “At least you have some conscience.”

The village chief didn’t dare argue. Despite being older, his seniority was lower—technically, he had to call Zhou Yimin’s grandfather “Uncle.”

“What are those for?” the village chief asked, pointing at the parts curiously.

“That’s a hand-cranked water pump. I’m planning to dig a well over there and install it. Are you guys free? If so, lend me a hand.”

“Oh? You think there’s water there?”

The village chief and the others were surprised.

They had no problem helping, but digging a well wasn’t easy. The village’s existing well had taken a whole week of collective effort to complete.

Wells were unpredictable.

If the location was wrong, they could dig dozens of feet deep and still find no water. Or worse, they might hit salty or bitter water, making all the effort useless.

“We’ll know soon enough—just need to drill for an hour or two,” Zhou Yimin said confidently.

An hour or two?

That wasn’t much trouble—worth giving it a try.

The village chief immediately assigned the men who had carried the parts to help.

“Yimin, tell us what to do.” One of the men rolled up his sleeves.

At that moment, Zhou Xuqian also arrived.

“These are the drill rods. Here’s how you do it…” Zhou Yimin explained.

“We’ll handle it!”

Zhou Xuqian and two strong men got to work, drilling at the spot Zhou Yimin had marked.

This method of well digging was new to them, and they found it fascinating. But to be honest, they didn’t have high hopes of actually hitting water.

(End of Chapter)