Chapter 17: Water Came Out

Through the continuous efforts of several farmers, they managed to drill about seven to eight meters deep within an hour.

“See? No water, right?” someone started with hindsight remarks.

If drilling a well was that easy, they would have already dug several more and wouldn’t have to worry about water shortages or even fight with other villages over water.

“The location must be wrong.”

“It’s not about the location. It’s the drought—haven’t you noticed that even our old well has dried up?”

…

Zhou Yimin never expected water to emerge at just seven or eight meters deep. The village’s original well was around eight meters deep, wasn’t it? It was just larger in diameter, allowing two or three people to draw water at the same time.

Since that well had already dried up, it meant the groundwater level was even lower.

So, they had to keep drilling.

Neither Zhou Yimin nor the old village chief gave the order to stop, so the people operating the drill naturally continued.

Still, the old village chief couldn’t hold back his doubts.

“Yimin, even if we do find water, how will you bring it up through such a small hole?”

With a hole that small, only something the size of a teacup could fit. That would be really inconvenient.

And about that water pump Zhou Yimin mentioned—there wasn’t even electricity in their village. Would it really work?

“Yeah! I say we stop wasting our energy.”

Zhou Yimin’s grandfather glared at those naysayers. “What do you lot know? A bunch of illiterates who can barely read a few words. Since my Yimin is doing this, he surely has a way to bring the water up.”

Why was this turning into a personal attack?

Everyone felt annoyed, but since Zhou Yimin’s grandfather had seniority, they didn’t dare talk back.

Zhou Yimin laughed and explained, “I’m drilling for a hand-pump well. Once we hit water and install the components, you’ll just need to pump the handle a few times, and the water will come up. You’ll see soon enough.”

He didn’t bother explaining the mechanics—it would be pointless.

His third uncle scoffed at those skeptics, “Even if he explained, you lot wouldn’t understand. Why ask so many questions?”

The others were speechless—was he looking down on them?

Who was he trying to mock?

Nine meters.

Ten meters.

Still no water.

As they drilled deeper, it became harder to continue.

Just as someone was about to start grumbling again, suddenly—water emerged from underground!

“We hit water! There’s water!”

“It’s true! Yimin, how did you know there would be water here? Can you find more spots in the village? We’ll dig wells too!”

“I say we should widen this hole and replace the old well with it.”

…

Before Zhou Yimin’s grandfather could get angry, the old village chief scolded, “Shut your mouths! Do you think it’s your place to decide?”

The well had just been drilled, and they were already eyeing it? Even a clay figurine would lose its temper!

Besides, don’t forget—it was thanks to Zhou Yimin that their village even had a way to get through these hard times. And now they wanted to claim his well for public use?

Zhou Yimin spoke up, “Let me make this clear first—this hand-pump well is for my grandparents’ convenience. I didn’t use any village resources, and even the land I drilled on is part of my family’s vegetable garden.”

If anyone thought he was easy to take advantage of, they were mistaken.

Of course, as long as his grandparents’ water needs weren’t affected, he didn’t mind letting others take some water occasionally.

But with them talking like this?

Sorry, no chance.

The old village chief nodded. “Understood. Don’t worry—this is your family’s private well. No one has the right to interfere. If anyone has a problem with it, I’ll handle them personally.”

What a joke.

Of all people, they shouldn’t mess with Zhou Yimin!

Did they still want to eat in the future?

Besides, he drilled the well on his own land—what did it have to do with anyone else? These days, a private well was a valuable family asset. Owning one was a matter of pride.

Who would willingly give it up for public use?

Ridiculous.

The old village chief turned to glare at the man who had just spoken, his tone icy. “Your father—and even your grandfather—wouldn’t dare act out in front of me. You’ve got some guts, huh? Very good.”

That man instantly realized his mistake, his face turning pale.

He stammered excuses, claiming he spoke too hastily and didn’t mean anything by it.

But Zhou Yimin’s grandfather wasn’t buying it. He had already decided—he’d be paying that man’s family a little “visit” later.

“Third Uncle, keep drilling. It’s still not deep enough,” Zhou Yimin said, seeing that his third uncle looked ready to throw a punch.

There was no need to start a fight—they were all from the same village.

That man might have had ulterior motives, but after such a warning, he should know better. If he still tried to cause trouble, well, then he’d have to face the consequences.

After that scolding, future disputes would probably be minimized.

Third Uncle deliberately kicked some dirt toward that man before getting back to work.

Embarrassed, the man slunk away.

The rest of the villagers quickly sided with Zhou Yimin, criticizing the troublemaker and making it clear whose side they were on.

They kept drilling until about 14 meters, where the groundwater slightly rose but still lacked enough pressure to reach the surface. Zhou Yimin directed the workers to insert a plastic pipe into the well and install the pump head.

The pump head was made from a 10-centimeter diameter iron pipe, with an internal piston connected to a lever. The piston itself was made of rubber.

“This is it?”

Without answering, Zhou Yimin gripped the lever and started pumping.

After fewer than ten pumps, murky water began flowing from the iron pipe.

Everyone, including the old village chief, widened their eyes in excitement.

“A bucket! Don’t waste it!” the old village chief shouted.

Zhou Yimin stepped aside for his third uncle. “Third Uncle, keep pumping until the water runs clear.”

“Got it! Leave it to me!”

His third uncle spat on his hands, rubbed them together, and then grabbed the lever, pumping at the same rhythm as Zhou Yimin.

Wasn’t this much easier than hauling water from the spring?

The others also wanted to try—it looked fun! They took turns pumping while others collected the water in buckets, some of which were immediately used for irrigation.

After about twenty minutes, clear water finally started flowing.

“It’s done,” Zhou Yimin announced.

By now, nearly half the village had gathered to watch.

For many of them, this was their first time seeing such a well. They looked at Zhou Yimin’s grandparents with envy.

Of course, it was their first time seeing one—hand-pump wells only became popular in rural areas in the 1980s and 1990s. Back then, almost every household had one.

The village elders, upon learning that Zhou Yimin had drilled this well for his grandparents’ convenience, praised him for his filial piety.

What a good grandson!

Looking at their own grandkids—useless troublemakers who didn’t care at all—made them furious.

The old village chief came over and asked, “Yimin, how much did the parts cost?”

Now that Zhou Yimin had successfully drilled a well, he was considering installing more throughout the village for irrigation. Relying on that single spring to water the fields was far too inefficient.

(End of Chapter)