Interstellar Educated Youth:Farming In The Seventies

Chapter Four

Dawn had barely broken over the courtyard when Lin Fan hauled his canvas travel bag over his shoulder. Auntie Chen stood by the kitchen door wiping non-existent tears, her sharp eyes secretly inspecting his pack to make sure he hadn't taken any extra household rations. His father handed him a dented aluminum canteen with a heavy sigh, murmuring, "Work hard, Xiao Fan. Don't embarrass the family." Lin Wei leaned against the doorframe, a mocking smirk plastered across his face as if waiting for Lin Fan to collapse under the weight of his own luggage.

Only young Lin Xiao stood in the corner, holding his breath and giving Lin Fan a silent, fierce nod. Lin Fan didn't spare the rest of them a second glance. He adjusted his strap, turned his back on the toxic household, and stepped out into the crisp morning air without a single trace of regret.

At the station, steam hissed violently from the iron locomotive, wrapping the platform in thick white plumes. Once inside the crowded, clacking train carriage, the distinct social hierarchy among the newly assigned youths immediately took shape.

In the quietest corner sat two best friends from wealthy urban backgrounds. Dressed in tailored wool coats and polished shoes, they whispered behind lace handkerchiefs, gently complaining about coal soot on the wooden benches while sharing sugary fruit candies from a metal tin.

Across the aisle, three wealthy young men—close friends whose fathers held high positions in city factories—laughed loudly, showing off heavy leather boots and shiny wristwatches. They bragged openly about their family connections, boasting that their parents would easily secure them soft desk jobs in the village accounting office within a month.

Tucked near the noisy carriage doors were three youths from poor rural backgrounds. Their hands were already rough and calloused from household chores, and their patched cotton jackets barely kept out the draft. Huddling together nervously, they quietly shared a single flask of boiled water and dry cornmeal buns, keeping their heads down to avoid drawing the rich boys' mockery.

The most intense tension, however, simmered near the center window between two poor girls. On the surface, they appeared to be travel companions, but the air between them was sharp as ice. One of them, Gu Chenchen, had just been reborn three days ago. In her past life, she had treated her "best friend" Liu Mei like a sister, only to be framed, stolen from, and left to rot by the girl's calculating scheming.

Now, Liu Mei pouted with big, tearful eyes, acting like a delicate, helpless green tea lotus. She wiped fake tears, sighing loudly about her weak stomach to catch the attention of the wealthy boys across the aisle, hoping to score some of their sweet candies and white bread. In her past life, Gu Chenchen would have rushed to comfort her and surrendered her own food. This time, Gu Chenchen merely let out a cold, venomous sneer, turning her shoulder completely and ignoring Liu Mei's pathetic performance entirely.

While the carriage churned with hidden rivalries, posturing, and petty drama, Lin Fan remained an island of pure tranquility. Sitting by his window, he tuned out the chatter completely, his heart soaring as he watched the dirty industrial outskirts melt away into endless rolling green hills, dense pine forests, and shimmering rice terraces.

On the third morning, the train screeched to a halt at a small, rustic platform tucked deep between misty mountains. As the youths tumbled off the train—complaining of stiff backs and dusty clothes—Lin Fan stepped out and took a deep breath. The air was rich with the smell of wet pine needles, woodsmoke, and untouched earth. Unable to contain his joy, he crouched near the wooden tracks, scooping up a pinch of dark mountain dirt and letting out a soft, radiant smile.

Standing beside a heavy wooden ox cart was Zhao Feng, the village team captain. Broad-shouldered and rugged in a faded military jacket, the demobilized soldier scanned the fresh batch of city youths with sharp, dark eyes.

When his gaze landed on Lin Fan, Zhao Feng’s brows furrowed. The youth looked dangerously fragile—pale skin, slender wrists, and a thin frame that looked as if a mountain breeze might blow him away. Yet, seeing the frail boy crouching in the mud with flushed cheeks and teary, sparkling eyes, Zhao Feng drew a very firm conclusion: This poor city boy is suffering so deeply, yet trying so hard to hide his terror behind a brave, heartbreaking smile.

A sudden tightness touched the captain's chest. Zhao Feng swallowed his initial skepticism, marched straight over, and effortlessly hoisted Lin Fan's heavy canvas bag onto his broad shoulder with one hand.

"Welcome to Red Star Commune," Zhao Feng said, his deep, grounded voice cutting through the noise. "The mountain road is long. Let's get you settled."

Zhao Feng set his heavy wooden clipboard onto the rim of the ox cart, his sharp gaze sweeping over the crowd gathered under the shade of a sprawling banyan tree. "Before we load the luggage and head up the mountain, we take roll call. State your name, your home district, and what you're capable of."

Tang Bo, the leader of the three wealthy youths, stepped forward first, puffing out his chest to show off his polished leather boots. "Tang Bo! My father is the head director of the Second Textile Mill in the capital. These two are my brothers, Liang Zhen and Jiang Hai. We’re top of our class, and our families hold key positions. We’re best suited for administrative work or managing the commune's accounting office."

Zhao Feng didn't even look up from his ledger, marking three cold ticks on the paper. "Here, your father is a thousand miles away, and mud doesn't care about titles. You'll haul manure and till soil like everyone else." Tang Bo flushed dark red, stepping back in stunned silence while Liang Zhen and Jiang Hai muttered bitterly under their breath.

Next, the two pampered rich girls smoothed down their tailored wool coats. Su Qing spoke first in a soft, refined voice, linking arms with her best friend, Fang Rong. "I am Su Qing, and this is Fang Rong. We graduated from the municipal high school. We aren't accustomed to heavy physical strain, Captain, but we excel at literacy instruction and public readings." Zhao Feng merely gave a grunt, gesturing them toward the back of the wooden cart.

The three poor youths nervously squeezed their cloth caps between their calloused hands. Chen Da, the eldest, stepped up with a slight stammer. "C-Chen Da! Beside me are Zhang Hua and Liu Ping. We come from the suburb tenements. We aren't good with fancy speeches, Captain, but we've hauled heavy coal carts since we were twelve. We aren't afraid of hard work." Zhao Feng's stern jaw relaxed, giving them a firm nod of approval.

When it came to the poor girls' turn, Liu Mei immediately blinked her wide, tear-brimming eyes, pressing a trembling hand to her chest as she cast a helpless glance toward Tang Bo and the wealthy boys. "I'm Liu Mei... My constitution is extremely delicate, and the train ride gave me such terrible dizziness. I only hope everyone can be patient and lend me a hand..."

Before Liu Mei could finish her pitiful performance, Gu Chenchen stepped right past her, her sharp voice cutting through the sweet act like a blade. "Gu Chenchen. District Four. I can chop firewood, weed paddies, and handle my own weight. I don't need anyone carrying my load—especially fake friends." Liu Mei gasped softly, shrinking back behind her handkerchief as the surrounding youths whispered.

Finally, Lin Fan stepped forward. The afternoon sun illuminated his pale, translucent skin, emphasizing his remarkably frail frame, yet his dark eyes were bright with unbridled, radiant excitement.

"Lin Fan," he said, his voice quiet, calm, and carrying an unexpected warmth. "I am ready to work the earth, Captain."

Zhao Feng stared at the delicate youth, watching how the boy’s slender hands—though trembling slightly from the long journey—clutched his canvas bag with absolute, quiet determination. He looks like he could collapse at any second, yet he steps up without a single word of complaint, Zhao Feng thought, feeling another sharp pang of quiet admiration and protective sympathy.

The captain cleared his throat, his tone softening noticeably. "Good. Climb aboard, Lin Fan. You sit up front right next to me."