Chapter 244: Zhou Dafu Hands Out Cigarettes

Xu Xiangbei took the blueprint and left.

When he arrived on site, he compared it with the blueprint, stopping from time to time to observe the geological structure of the dam site. This was crucial—if the geology was unstable, building a dam would be dangerous.

Although this was just a small dam with limited water storage capacity, it was still better to err on the side of caution. Otherwise, why would Zhou Yimin have asked him to come?

“Help me dig here and take a look,” Xu Xiangbei said.

As soon as he spoke, the old village secretary waved to the people working nearby. “You few, come over and follow Engineer Xu’s instructions.”

After hearing Xu Xiangbei’s request, the villagers picked up hoes and other tools and started digging in that spot.

Soon, they hit rock.

They switched to shovels and dug out a piece of the stone.

Xu Xiangbei took the piece and examined it for a while. In the end, he concluded that there was no problem building a dam here—it would be able to withstand both the structure and the water pressure.

“Do you have any explosives? Detonators would be ideal,” Xu Xiangbei asked.

The rock layer here was shallow—just a few meters down and you hit bedrock. So if they wanted to build a dam, they had to split the rock. Doing it by manpower alone would be exhausting and inefficient.

But with explosives, the job would be much easier.

The old secretary was startled.

Even though villages nowadays had access to guns and some explosives, they were still not common enough to be easily accessible.

“Our village doesn’t have detonators—we’ll have to check with the commune,” the old secretary replied.

Since it was a public works project, they could apply for support from the commune, whether financial or material. There should be some assistance.

Things like detonators—the commune would definitely have them.

Detonators were invented quite early on, and we’ve all heard of the inventor—none other than the famous Alfred Nobel.

It had long been known that nitroglycerin was a powerful explosive, but it was too sensitive—it could detonate with vibration, impact, or even a spark, making it extremely dangerous and impractical.

Nobel discovered that nitroglycerin, when absorbed by diatomaceous earth, became much more stable—but then the problem became how to detonate it. After many experiments and even bloodshed, he finally found that mercury fulminate could detonate the nitroglycerin absorbed in diatomaceous earth.

Pack that mercury fulminate into a small tube, and you had a detonator.

The early detonators used pure mercury fulminate, which wasn’t very stable—contact with copper or moisture would cause unstable salts to form and accidents to happen. Later on, detonators began using lead azide, which was a bit more stable.

“Try to apply for some from the commune. The work will be much easier after that,” Xu Xiangbei suggested.

The blasted rubble could even be used for the dam construction—killing two birds with one stone.

Afterward, Xu Xiangbei gave some instructions and had the old secretary bring everyone to a shaded area to rest when the sun got too strong. A talent like him—they wouldn’t dare work him like a beast of burden.

Zhou Dafu was having a rough time of it.

He’d been wanting to work in the city for a long time—everyone in the village knew how hard he’d tried. But every time, luck seemed to play tricks on him.

Many waves of young people from the village had already gone to the city, and he kept missing out.

As his family put it: He can’t even get to the sh*t while it’s still warm!

Still, after working hard, he had saved a decent amount of money. He might not be the richest in Zhoujia Village, but he was definitely in the top ten. That money, he planned to use to buy himself a job in the city.

His family wanted him to use it to get married instead. But Zhou Dafu was adamant—if he was going to marry, it’d be a city girl.

The ones who’d been to the city had seen the world—and some of them even started looking down on rural girls.

“Hey! Got a cigarette? Give me one,” someone nearby came over.

Everyone knew this guy had made some money hunting in the mountains, and he smoked the good stuff. So naturally, quite a few came around to bum cigarettes off Zhou Dafu.

Zhou Dafu usually didn’t refuse.

Strictly speaking, wild game from the mountains belonged to the collective. But since no one made a fuss, he figured he should at least show some generosity in return.

“That’s all I’ve got left,” Zhou Dafu said as he pulled out a pack—just five cigarettes left.

They were gone in an instant. They didn’t even give him back the empty box.

“Dafu, when are you heading back into the mountains?” someone asked.

Those three dumb deer earlier had sparked some thoughts. If they could find a few more, it’d be like stumbling on free money. Young people always had ideas—they weren’t ready to lie flat and accept their fate just yet.

“Your dad letting you go?” Zhou Dafu asked in return.

In the past, when food was scarce, families might’ve sent men into the mountains to try their luck. But ever since Yimin came back and made sure the village was well-fed, no one really took those risks anymore.

Even Zhou Dafu’s own parents had tried countless times to stop him. They couldn’t beat sense into him, either—nothing worked. In the end, they just let him be. Life and death were up to fate.

“I’ll sneak out.”

“Better not. If your dad comes blaming me, I’ll be in trouble.” Zhou Dafu quickly waved his hands.

Just then, Zhou Yimin showed up, carrying several buckets of mung bean soup—with sugar added. Only Zhou Yimin would think to do something like this.

“Come on, take a break! Everyone, have a bowl of mung bean soup!” Zhou Yimin called.

At his words, everyone put down their tools and headed toward the shade. Many were already dripping with sweat. If they hadn’t had a good breakfast, someone might’ve passed out by now.

One of the village aunties led a few women to distribute the soup.

“One at a time, line up. Hey you, what are you doing? Get to the back!” the aunty barked, driving off someone who tried to cut the line.

They hadn’t brought enough bowls for everyone. So once someone finished, they’d pass the bowl to the next.

Wash the bowl?

No such thing.

No one cared about that sort of stuff. A bit of spit? Who cared? Even if someone spat in the bowl, there’d still be people fighting over it. They all knew just how precious a mouthful of food really was.

Especially the group from Shuangtian Village.

Drinking that sweet mung bean soup was like heaven—just like eating chilled watermelon on a hot June day.

“Only Zhoujia Village would add sugar.”

“Yeah! They must’ve put a lot in, it’s really sweet.” Another person licked his lips, still craving more. He had to settle for pouring himself a cup of plain water.

Just having mung bean soup was already a treat.

Who else would bother to add sugar?

Honestly, what Zhoujia Village was doing was downright extravagant. They were grateful all over again for the chance to work here. If they could, they’d gladly keep working here forever.

Over on Zhou Yimin’s side, the old village secretary and the others brought up the issue of detonators.

He checked his mental catalog of stores and came up empty—no detonators. He told the secretary to ask the commune, and if that didn’t work, he’d pull some strings.

With all the people he knew, there had to be some way.

“Brother Xu, have a bit more. There’s plenty!” Zhou Yimin offered.

Xu Xiangbei waved him off. “I’ve had enough, really.”

(End of Chapter)