Chapter Eleven: Trouble Occurs

White clouds entwined with the bright moon, while a multitude of stars gazed across the expanse of the void.

By the time Zhong Di returned to Lingjing Village, night had fallen completely. He glanced at the tricycle behind him, still feeling a bit anxious—after all, he’d just spent the family’s savings.

In the past, any significant purchase would be discussed at length in the family; only after everyone agreed would a decision be made. But now, without saying a word, he’d simply bought the item and brought it home. He wondered how his parents would react.

Zhong Di had already prepared himself: no matter what his parents said, he’d bear it. Once his plans progressed step by step, they would surely understand his reasoning.

“Mom, I’m home,” Zhong Di called toward the house.

There was no response. The lights were on, and he could see his parents’ silhouettes through the window, but for some reason, neither answered. Could something have happened?

He parked the electric tricycle and entered the house. His parents sat in silence, neither speaking. After a while, his mother glanced at him, then went to the kitchen and fetched a set of bowls and chopsticks.

“Sit down and eat,” she said softly.

Sensing the atmosphere, Zhong Di knew at once that something must have happened. “Mom, what’s wrong?”

He’d bought an electric tricycle today. According to old habits, his parents would have interrogated him thoroughly: what was it for, what plans did he have, how long would it take to earn back the money? The tricycle was parked right in the courtyard; his mother must have seen it when she fetched the dishes. Yet she said nothing—this was too strange.

“Your father hit someone while operating the machine,” his mother finally said after a moment’s hesitation, her brow furrowed as if struggling with what to say.

Hearing this, Zhong Di immediately guessed there’d been trouble. Safety was paramount when working with machines—a mishap like this meant compensation, quite possibly a significant sum. Life had been hard enough; now things were even worse.

“But we’re not held responsible for it. The compensation for the family is being paid by the boss. It’s just—your father’s lost his job.”

Seeing the heavy look on Zhong Di’s face, his mother knew what he was thinking and offered an explanation.

Zhong Di let out a breath of relief; at least things weren’t as bad as they could have been—it was only a lost job.

“Your father’s not young anymore. He doesn’t have the strength he did in his youth, when he could earn a living by sheer hard work. Life won’t be easy from now on.”

It sounded less like she was speaking to Zhong Di, more like she was addressing his father. Zhong Di glanced at his father; perhaps before he’d returned, his father had already mentioned wanting to keep working manual labor.

Only then did Zhong Di look closely at his parents, noticing the gray at their temples and the weary lines at the corners of their eyes. They’d toiled their whole lives, and even after losing a job, still thought only of working to support the family.

Since they were young, his parents had worked the land, always as laborers for others. Such work dried up after the harvest, and the family’s expenses were considerable. His father had to rely on his strength to work as a loader, barely keeping the family afloat.

Many people wonder: with so many ways to make money, why are there still so many poor? What they don’t understand is that making money is a privilege for the few; most people can only scrape by. With burdens, worries, and no appetite for risk, they do only what is safest, so their families can at least eat and not go hungry.

Feeling the heavy atmosphere, Zhong Di found he’d lost his appetite. He ate quickly, then told his parents about buying the tricycle and the chickens.

He’d expected a scolding, but his father surprised him by saying, “Zhong Di, you’re grown now. You should have your own ideas. Your mother and I are getting old—we can’t make all the decisions for you. The road ahead is yours to walk.”

Hearing this, Zhong Di felt he was no longer the child he once was; a new weight of responsibility settled on his shoulders. If your life feels easy, it’s because someone else is bearing the burden for you—only now did Zhong Di truly understand that saying.

“Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. I’ll make sure you live a good life.”

With that, Zhong Di got up, started the tricycle, and headed for the fields. He was determined to manage the orchard well, so that his parents and himself could live comfortably. This was what he had always wanted—to earn a living, but also to find warmth and happiness in daily life.

If Wen Ya heard this, she would probably scoff; they’d debated this before. In her view, a true man should have ambitions beyond the home, not just care for his own family—that, she believed, was the mark of a coward.

But to Zhong Di, if one couldn’t even shield their own family from wind and rain, what right had they to talk of greater ambitions? The ancient saying goes, “Cultivate oneself, set one’s household in order, govern the state, bring peace to the world.” There’s a reason for that order.

He had no grand expectations of becoming a great figure; he only wished his small family could live in warmth and joy, free from financial worry. That would be enough.

In his spare time, he would study, hoping to discover some useful technique for his country, to make a modest contribution and live up to his idols—that would suffice.

He set the chicken coop beside the woodland strip next to the homestead. The outer edge was already fenced off with wire mesh; he only needed to close off the remaining three sides. The poplar trees served as ready-made posts—he just had to fasten the mesh, and it was done.

Once the coop was finished, he put the chickens inside. Tomorrow morning, he’d check for gaps or problems and make any necessary adjustments.

As for the batch of half-grown chicks arriving tomorrow, Zhong Di planned to let them run free in the jujube orchard, foraging alongside the feed. Once they’d settled in, he’d fence them in with wire mesh.

After cleaning the chicken droppings off the tricycle, Zhong Di replaced the irrigation pipes. By morning, both fields would be watered.

All that was left was to wait for the ground to dry, then use the rotary tiller to prepare a plot and interplant a batch of cash crops.

His little shadow, Yusheng, followed him everywhere, barking energetically, doing its best to make its presence felt. Zhong Di couldn’t help but feel the pup was growing fast—just in a day or two, it had grown noticeably larger.

With the day’s work done, he returned to his small house, put Yusheng in its little bed, and finally settled down to rest.