Chapter 223 – Procurement

Li Feng brought along Zhou Yimin and Zhang Yi, and once they were seated, they set off immediately.

It was Zhang Yi’s first time riding in a truck, and she was incredibly curious. As soon as she got in, it was like she had a bout of hyperactivity—constantly looking around, touching everything she could reach.

Li Feng wasn’t surprised in the slightest by this kind of reaction. In fact, he couldn’t help but feel a bit smug.

He certainly had reason to feel proud—becoming a driver was no easy feat, practically as hard as ascending to the heavens.

Drivers were a highly coveted profession. There was even an exaggerated saying: “When the horn blares, it’s worth a city of gold; when the wheels roll, better than being a county magistrate.”

Back then, the one holding the steering wheel was no ordinary person—it was extremely difficult to become a driver.

Truck driving was considered a professional occupation. To obtain a license, one had to go through strict political vetting. After all, trucks were rare, and it would be a huge problem if one fell into the hands of criminals. There was also mandatory training.

Generally speaking, if you wanted to learn to drive, you first had to spend a few years as a porter in the motor pool of a major work unit. If the master driver took a liking to you, only then would they allow you to learn. You’d run routes with them for two years, learn vehicle maintenance, and only then could you take the driving test and become an assistant driver.

Learning to drive in this era was nothing like in later generations. The first three years were spent washing, cleaning, and repairing cars—enduring scolding and tests of your patience. Then came static training. Only after you were stable would you be allowed to test-drive on empty roads under your master’s guidance. You’d start with short distances, gradually building up to long-haul trips.

Zhou Yimin could drive himself, so he wasn’t the least bit surprised. He didn’t react like someone who had never seen the world.

Zhang Yi, on the other hand, was full of curiosity. “Team Lead Zhou, you don’t seem the least bit curious about the truck. Do you ride in them often?”

“It’s alright. I drive too,” Zhou Yimin replied casually.

Back in the 21st century, he had driven cars far better than this one.

This truck didn’t even have power steering—just brute arm strength to turn the wheel. You could say every full-time truck driver had a Qilin arm.

Zhang Yi was stunned. It was the first time she’d heard that Zhou Yimin could drive.

“Really?” she asked in disbelief.

But Li Feng knew. Recently, Zhou Yimin had driven one of the factory’s cargo trucks. They had all been surprised to see how skilled he looked behind the wheel.

As drivers themselves, they knew just how hard it was to become one. They’d endured countless trials to earn that title.

“There’s no point in joking about something like that. Driving isn’t all that hard, right?” Zhou Yimin said.

Li Feng and Zhang Yi: “…”

Not that hard?

What were they supposed to say to that?

Clearly, when someone is truly capable, everything seems easy. What others see as a daunting challenge, he handles like it’s no big deal.

Zhang Yi couldn’t help but sigh. “Team Lead Zhou, you’re amazing. I really wonder if there’s anything you can’t do.”

A man this perfect—if only he could be her boyfriend. Just thinking about it made her heart flutter. She was sure plenty of others would be envious too.

But Zhang Yi was realistic—she wasn’t particularly pretty, just average. Someone like Zhou Yimin probably wouldn’t be interested in someone like her.

“Don’t say that. There’s still so much I don’t know. No one can be good at everything. We’ve got to keep learning, lifelong learning and all that,” Zhou Yimin replied modestly.

The three of them continued chatting casually as they approached Shangshui Village.

Shangshui Village had done a decent job of copying from others. The road into the village wasn’t as nice as the one in Zhou Family Village, but it was better than most places.

As they entered, they saw villagers picking long beans.

There were already quite a few beans laid out on the ground, so it looked like they had started quite a while ago—no way they could’ve picked that many otherwise.

When the truck rolled into the village, all eyes turned toward it.

This was, after all, the very first truck to ever enter Shangshui Village. Many people stopped what they were doing to look. Some curious kids even ran up to get a closer look.

Seeing this, Zhou Yimin reminded them, “The truck hasn’t come to a full stop yet—give it some space.”

Village Chief Wang immediately came over to shoo the children away. If he upset Zhou Yimin and lost their support, the whole village would be in trouble.

The kids reluctantly stepped back when they saw the chief, but only by four or five meters—they didn’t go far.

Clearly, anyone who could become a driver nowadays wasn’t ordinary.

The road in Shangshui Village wasn’t as wide as the one in Zhou Family Village—barely enough for a single lane. But Li Feng didn’t slow down at all, and still managed to park the truck precisely in the right spot.

Zhou Yimin praised, “Squad Leader Li, impressive driving.”

“Eh, it’s my trade after all. I can’t afford to be sloppy,” Li Feng replied.

The three got down from the truck.

Village Chief Wang quickly came forward. “You’ve worked hard, traveling all this way. We’re almost done with the picking—just give us another half an hour or so.”

“Village Chief Wang, what time did you all start picking?” Zhou Yimin asked, surprised by the number of beans.

With a grin, the chief replied, “Not too early—around four in the morning.”

Though that was about two hours earlier than the usual start time for fieldwork, in this era, it wasn’t a big deal.

Zhou Yimin gave a thumbs-up. “Impressive. Since you’ve already picked so much, let’s have a few people come over to help weigh and load the truck.”

Village Chief Wang quickly said, “Alright, I’ll get it arranged right away.”

Since weighing and loading required strength, they called over several able-bodied men to help. The bean-picking itself didn’t need much muscle, so the women could handle that.

They also brought out the village’s largest steelyard scale—the kind that could weigh even a 200-jin hog without trouble.

The steelyard scale, or gan cheng, is a type of weighing tool that uses the principle of leverage. It consists of a wooden rod marked with star-shaped notches, a metal weight, and a carrying ring.

The craft of making these scales by hand has a long history in China.

According to legend, the steelyard was invented by Lu Ban. He carved 13 stars onto the scale based on the Big Dipper and the Southern Dipper, defining one jin as 13 liang. After Qin Shi Huang unified the six kingdoms, he added the “Fu, Lu, Shou” stars—symbolizing good fortune, prosperity, and longevity—to make it 16 stars in total, redefining one jin as 16 liang, and issued an imperial edict to unify measurements.

Another version attributes its invention to Fan Li.

He was inspired by a fish vendor’s dilemma. Using a bamboo pole with a bucket on one end and fish on the other, he created the scale based on leverage. Later, he refined it by marking 13 stars based on the same constellations. But because some merchants were dishonest and shorted customers, the “Fu, Lu, Shou” stars were added to remind them: one liang short, less fortune; two liang short, less prosperity; three liang short, less longevity.

It wasn’t until the 1950s that China reformed its measurement system and standardized one jin as 10 liang.

Zhang Yi, who worked in accounting, stood nearby with a notebook, recording everything.

(End of Chapter)