Chapter 98 – Use a Longer Measuring Tape

When the students saw the watermelon, they had no mind to study at all—their eyes were glued to the neatly cut slices.

Still, none of them dared to snatch any. Teacher Xiaolan was strict now, no longer the gentle Sister Xiaolan from before—getting hit by her really hurt.

“If I call your name, come up and get your slice. Everyone else, stay seated.” Xiaolan gave her instruction.

She began calling names. One by one, the students went up to receive their watermelon, then returned to their seats to eat. Everything proceeded in an orderly fashion. They weren’t even allowed to chatter or move around.

Even the rinds had to be collected afterward.

They’d be used to make soup later.

Xiaolan also made it clear to the students who had provided the watermelon, the textbooks, and even their pencils and exercise books.

These little ones needed to remember.

Zhou Zhigao went to the old village secretary to discuss the matter of school uniforms.

“This is a good thing! It had to be Yimin behind it. You go back to teaching—I’ll let everyone know. I want to see who’s actually stingy enough not to fork over such a small amount,” the old secretary said.

Back in the day, even using fabric ration tickets at the supply co-op didn’t guarantee you could get cloth. And now this deal? Practically a giveaway.

Fabric was scarce, and even the co-ops might be out of stock.

Families had saved fabric coupons for a whole year and still couldn’t buy enough for one set of clothes.

Now, there was no need for coupons, and the price was so low—where else could anyone find a deal like this? Only Yimin could’ve asked his friends at the textile factory for help.

No one would believe he hadn’t pulled in a few favors to make this happen.

…

When Zhou Yimin got home, Laicai and Laifang immediately gathered around, especially when they saw the big watermelons—they both wanted to help.

“Go draw some water,” Zhou Yimin told Laicai to get to work.

He didn’t dare let them carry the watermelons.

These things weighed over twenty pounds. If one slipped and smashed on the ground, even if Zhou Yimin didn’t care, Third Aunt would definitely give the siblings a beating.

The groundwater from the hand pump was cold. He used it to chill the melons—not in a rush to eat just yet.

Ideally, the melons would be tossed into a well, but the village wells were nearly dry, so the hand pump water would have to do to cool them down.

Zhou Zhiming and the others were digging the septic tank, drenched in sweat.

Inside the house, a bunch of elderly folks were listening to the radio.

When they saw Zhou Yimin return with two large watermelons, they tactfully got up, ready to head out and return the next day to continue listening.

Zhou Yimin urged them to stay and keep listening for a bit—there would be watermelon to eat soon.

Unable to refuse, they finally stayed after Yimin’s grandma spoke up, settling down to wait for the melon. The radio interrupted its regular program to air a few domestic and international news updates.

Central Station’s usual style—domestic news was all cheer, no gloom.

After the news came everyone’s favorite storytelling segment.

The elders praised Zhou Yimin for being so filial and sensible…

All in all, nothing but kind words.

Yimin’s grandparents loved hearing this kind of praise—it made them beam like they’d eaten honey.

At that moment, all the parents with children studying at the village school received a notice about custom school uniforms. Upon hearing the news, they immediately gave their full support, many of them rushing to the school to pay.

They were afraid if they delayed, the school might change its mind.

Two yuan for two full sets of clothing—sure, it was just kids’ clothes, but the deal was amazing. Fabric itself was hard to come by, especially in the countryside.

“Who’s good at sewing?” asked the old secretary.

They needed to gather a few women to make the clothes. Xiaolan started measuring each student’s height and other dimensions.

“Xiaolan, make it a bit longer!” one of the village women pleaded.

Kids grew fast—you couldn’t go strictly by current measurements or the clothes wouldn’t fit next year. So everyone wanted the uniforms made a little larger.

After all, opportunities like this didn’t come often.

“That’s right! Make the uniforms bigger. Looks like there’s enough fabric anyway.”

Only Yimin could’ve gotten that much cloth. No doubt he had connections with the fabric shop or a textile mill—there was no other way.

Xiaolan understood the parents’ concerns and adjusted the measurements accordingly.

But when some parents looked like they wanted to take further advantage, the old secretary glared and barked, “Are you the teacher here, or is Xiaolan? Since Yimin put her in charge, she makes the calls. All of you—shut it.

Make the clothes any bigger, and what—are you planning to wear them yourselves?”

The old secretary’s scolding finally quieted the women down—they didn’t dare argue anymore.

Eight women skilled at sewing were chosen to start cutting and stitching, aiming to finish the uniforms within two days so the kids could wear their new clothes.

The old secretary also gave everyone a heads-up:

“No one is to touch the leftover fabric. Yimin said whatever’s left goes to Zhigao and Xiaolan.”

He didn’t want people spreading nonsense later about father and daughter hoarding fabric. If that gossip reached Yimin, it’d sour his view of the village.

Naturally, no one had any objections.

If the students were getting uniforms, it made sense for the teacher to get some too. Besides, this was all Yimin’s arrangement—who would dare argue?

Young folks watching on sighed in envy—why hadn’t school been like this when they were kids? Good food, and now even clothes from the school? Not even in their dreams had they imagined it.

And all of this was thanks to Zhou Yimin.

Everyone could see just how much he valued education in the village—he’d poured his heart into it.

Zhou Dazhong chatted briefly with his mother after returning home, then hurried back to the steel plant. He practically reported to work daily, cherishing his job. Unlike Zhou Yimin, who hadn’t shown up three times all week.

Zhou Yimin fished the chilled melons out of the water. With Laicai and Laifang watching eagerly, he chopped one open and handed half over to Zhou Zhiming and his crew.

“Brother Zhiming, share some watermelon with everyone to cool off,” Zhou Yimin called.

“Alright, just set it down. Thanks, Yimin!” Zhou Zhiming took the lead in thanking him.

They’d never had such comfortable working conditions—food and drinks provided.

They didn’t plan to eat the watermelon just yet. Once they finished the day’s work, they’d take their shares home. Even just half a melon was huge—over ten pounds.

There were only five of them. That meant two or three pounds per person.

Zhou Yimin kept cutting, handing slices to Laifang and Laicai. “Take these to Grandpa and Grandma inside.”

Of course, some of them were just his “old buddies.”

Some of the elderly, while eating, thought about how great these watermelons were. They decided to keep the seeds and plant them by their homes next year—maybe they’d get some of these melons too.

So not a single watermelon seed was left on the floor—they were all pocketed by the elders.

Anyone who didn’t know better would think they were eating seedless melons.

Zhou Yimin, meanwhile, went into the kitchen to start preparing dinner.

(End of Chapter)