Chapter 96: The Rich Should Not Look Down on the Poor, the Poor Should Not Harbor Malice—Now the Li Family Has Risen Again (Request

Below, the crowd was noisy; before Li Heng could even dress and get out of bed, Li Jianguo and Tian Run’e returned from town.

They didn’t come back empty-handed.

They bought meat, wonton wrappers, flour, a fish, wine, sugar, and various other daily necessities.

Hmm, Li Jianguo’s left hand also carried a bag of Chinese herbs.

What had the Li family’s circumstances been these past years? How much did they have saved? Villagers roughly knew the score—seeing the couple bring home so much, they instantly understood.

They realized that Li Yan’s words were absolutely true.

Li Heng had truly become a famous writer, truly earned 3,800 yuan from a single book!

Otherwise, how could Tian Run’e, who normally sustained the household by selling rice, afford to spend so freely?

Wouldn’t that be outright wasteful?

Still, though everyone understood internally, someone still blurted out first:

“Aunt Tian, has Li Heng really become a famous writer?”

Tian Run’e smiled gently and replied, “What famous writer? I just wrote a book on a whim and made a little money.”

Listen—wrote a book on a whim and earned 3,800 yuan!

Three thousand eight hundred yuan!

Speculation was one thing; hearing it with your own ears was another.

In an instant, the crowd fell dead silent, clearly stunned by the news.

But the silence didn’t last long—soon, the noise that followed was even louder and more explosive than before.

Tian Run’e pulled out three jin of paper-wrapped sugar from the urea sack, placed it on a stone, opened it up, happily answered everyone’s questions, and invited everyone to take some candy.

Candy!

The Li family was handing out wedding candy—this meant the matter was settled.

Those few with dark hearts, envious to the point of jealousy, rage, and madness, had no way to stop it—finally, they could only bite down hard on the paper-wrapped sugar, crunching it to bits: Hmph! Not even that sweet.

But most people still carried some goodwill; soon, the front of the old Li house was packed with people, bustling and lively, once again restoring the glory Li Jianguo had enjoyed when he was a leader in the education bureau.

At noon, villagers gradually dispersed, leaving only a few idle folks still pulling Li Jianguo and Li Heng aside to ask endless questions.

“Li Heng, Elder Heng!”

Just as Li Heng was wearily dealing with neighbors, a voice came from across the road—Zhang Zhiyong was shouting loudly.

Li Heng stood up and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Come help me out.”

“Oh, okay, coming!”

Finally free, Li Heng happily dashed toward the clueless one.

“Fuck your dad! You’ve got face today—this kind of scene, I’ll probably never see again until the day I die.” Zhang Zhiyong’s eyes brimmed with envy, jealousy, and hatred.

Li Heng smiled, revealing his nice teeth: “Don’t worry—I’ll throw you an even grander funeral on the day you die.”

“Fuck! You bastard, you actually wish me dead?” Zhang Zhiyong’s eyes bulged, blazing with fury.

Li Heng reached out and patted his head: “Everyone dies eventually—today or tomorrow, what’s the point of fearing it?”

“Fuck off! Don’t touch me—I’m sick of you right now. My fucking dad kept interrogating me about you all day. I talked myself hoarse, and in the end, that old bastard concluded: ‘A son should be born like Li Heng…’” Zhang Zhiyong groaned, endlessly complaining about his father.

Li Heng laughed heartily: “Not bad—your dad’s cultural level’s improved.”

“Pfft! Cultural level? If you mean his skills in bedding women, I’d believe that.” Zhang Zhiyong spoke with gritted teeth.

Li Heng asked, “What now?”

Zhang Zhiyong glanced around, furious: “Last night, he first slept with my mom—I heard them doing it.

Then, in the middle of the night, he sneaked off to the widow’s bed. Can you believe it? Can you believe it? My dad’s just a piece of trash.”

Li Heng asked curiously, “Did your mom catch him in the act?”

Zhang Zhiyong slammed his fists in frustration: “My mom? Useless. She never learns. She sleeps like a pig. I followed him myself.”

Li Heng was surprised: “I didn’t hear any shouting from your place last night—how’d you handle it?”

Zhang Zhiyong pulled out a roll of cash from his pocket—all hundred-yuan notes: “That bastard casually tossed me a stack and told me to keep quiet.”

Li Heng asked, “Did you agree?”

Zhang Zhiyong cursed, gesturing wildly: “I agreed? Fuck no! I stormed in, grabbed the widow’s head, and slammed it against the wall—bang, bang, bang—over twenty times. Blood was splattered all over the wall.

If that old bastard hadn’t pulled me off, I’d have twisted her head off and used it as a piss pot. Pfft! I slapped her eight times too.

I planned to slap her 365 times—once a day—but after the eighth slap, she passed out. Fuck, she couldn’t even take a beating—I hadn’t even gotten my fill.”

Li Heng gave a thumbs-up: “So how’d you deal with your dad?”

Zhang Zhiyong pulled out four more rolls of cash from his pocket: “Heh. Total of 500 yuan for the whore.”

Out of a sense of duty to the gossip, Li Heng detoured past the widow’s house.

Sure enough, the widow had gauze wrapped around her forehead and slight swelling on her right cheek.

Seeing the clueless one, she stopped feeding the chickens and hurried inside.

Zhang Zhiyong winked: “See? I’m not even bragging.”

Li Heng gave another thumbs-up.

The “help” the clueless one needed was to drive the tractor to the village office to haul corn—and he’d called Li Heng to lend moral support.

Sitting on the tractor, Li Heng asked, “Where are your parents? You had to call me.”

Zhang Zhiyong grumbled: “My mom’s useless—she never learns. A few sweet words and she loses her way. She and that old bastard took the back road to Grandma’s place—just left a bit ago.”

The village office was about a mile or two from the crossroads, right next to the women’s committee head’s house.

At that moment, the women’s committee head and her daughter Liu Juan were drying soybeans at their front door. Seeing Li Heng standing nearby, she smiled teasingly:

“Good fortune lifts the spirit, Li Heng—you look great, much better than in January.”

Then she told her daughter, “Go bring two stools over.”

Oh!

Who was it back in January who grabbed her daughter in the tractor bed and wouldn’t let her talk to Li Heng?

From refusing to let her daughter near him before, to now ordering her to fetch stools—wasn’t this a drastic shift in attitude?

Couldn’t you be any more obvious?

Uncomfortable. Uncomfortable.

Li Heng took the stool, thanked her, sat down, and asked Liu Juan, who kept sneaking glances at him: “How many days of holiday do you have?”

The girl, who had been fine moments ago, blushed the moment she spoke, stammering: “T-three days.”

Seeing her shy demeanor, Li Heng couldn’t help but laugh: “Am I a tiger? Why are you so scared of me?”

Liu Juan looked up at him briefly, then lowered her head again. While mechanically fumbling with the soybeans, her ears turned red.

Seeing her daughter’s pitiful state, the women’s committee head laughed: “Li Heng, don’t tease her—she’s just a country bumpkin who’s never seen the world.”

An old woman nearby chimed in: “Fu Lian, this great talent has taken a fancy to your daughter—let me be the matchmaker.”

Fu Lian was the women’s committee head. Though she’d usually told her daughter to avoid Li Heng, she got along well with Tian Run’e. She smiled and replied: “Sure—once Run’e agrees, I’ll marry her off tomorrow.”

Look at that—look at that—is that even human speech?

Her daughter hasn’t even graduated high school, and she’s already thinking of selling her off.

The mother might’ve forgotten, but Liu Juan hadn’t.

Recalling the tractor incident half a year ago, hearing these words now, and seeing Li Heng smiling at her, she was overcome with shame. She stopped helping dry the soybeans and fled in panic.

Maybe she was too flustered, or maybe she felt uneasy under Li Heng’s gaze—she stumbled, tripped, and fell. Getting up, she whimpered, then rushed inside, clutching her forehead with her right hand.

“Clumsy, no sense of decorum,” the women’s committee head muttered, having watched her daughter’s entire performance.

Turning back to Li Heng, she said: “Sorry you had to see that—so you’re hauling corn?”

“Yes.”

Li Heng was now a celebrity, drawing crowds. He’d barely sat down when people around the village office swarmed over—another long, tedious chat before he could finally escape.

Watching the tractor slowly rumble away, the old woman who’d just offered to be a matchmaker said: “The rich shouldn’t look down on the poor, and the poor shouldn’t harbor ill will. Look—now the Li family’s risen again. People are lining up to flatter them.”

The women’s committee head sighed: “Who can deny it? But I worry those who kicked them down too hard won’t be able to crawl back now.”

A newly married woman nearby said to her: “Sister, Li Heng’s handsome and talented—if you married Xiao Juan to him, she’d have a life of luxury forever.”

The women’s committee head smiled but didn’t reply.

Because she knew—despite Li Heng’s polite conversation with her just now, there was distance in his heart.

Maybe it was her earlier move of pulling her daughter behind her in January that offended him.

The women’s committee head thought to herself: If only I’d known he’d bounce back so fast, I wouldn’t have just let my daughter talk to him—I’d have put her in his bed if needed. Better yet, we could’ve set the engagement right away, married after graduation.

…

On the tractor.

Zhang Zhiyong grumbled: “Elder Heng, you’ve really made it—everyone just talked to you, and I was invisible. Fucking annoying!”

Li Heng joked: “Is it because you’re kind of ugly?”

Zhang Zhiyong rubbed his head with his free hand—for the first time, he sounded unsure: “Am I really that ugly?”

Li Heng teased: “Ugly doesn’t matter—as long as a man has money.”

Zhang Zhiyong felt hopeless: “But I don’t have as much money as you.”

Li Heng said: “Then rely on your dad—if he keeps climbing into widows’ beds, your income keeps growing. Keep watching—it’s a never-ending money stream.”

Zhang Zhiyong turned back, breathing heavily, but found his logic strangely sound.

That bastard could earn money driving the tractor, and he never lost at cards—if I kept tabs on him, wouldn’t all that money end up in my pocket?

Thinking of this, the clueless one let out a pig-like cackle: “That bastard’s already arranged with my uncle-in-law—they’re planning to head to Zijiang next month to open a sand-dredging gold-panning boat.”

Li Heng didn’t react much—he knew the Zhang family had always been in this line of work—only curiously asked, “How many shares does your family hold?”

Zhang Zhiyong said, “Thirty-five percent. My aunt’s husband holds thirty-five percent. The rest is used by him to grease palms.”

Li Heng nodded. “Sand mining and gold panning are high-risk, high-reward industries. Without protection, you won’t last.”

Anyone who still does sand mining or gold panning these days is ruthless, and each has a crew of capable men. Without real power, one day you might just float dead in the river.

Li Heng’s father was a notorious gang leader in the former town. Though he never harmed villagers, his name and reputation struck fear everywhere—any troublemaker would instantly go quiet around him. Otherwise, how could his mother keep control?

They got home by noon.

Eating the leftover dishes from morning, he quickly shoveled a bowl of rice, then took two bags of sugar and two bottles of liquor to his Second Uncle’s house.

Second Uncle’s house wasn’t far—it shared the same courtyard layout as Yang Ying’s home.

Actually, the wooden house the Yang family now lived in had once belonged to Second Uncle. Later, during land reform, land, soil, mountains, and houses were seized and redistributed by the commune.

“Second Uncle, I’ve come to visit you. How’s your health lately?”

Inside, he saw Second Uncle sitting under the pear tree, sipping rice wine, while instructing Yang Ying’s father on how to slaughter a dog.

Hearing the call, Second Uncle slowly turned his head. When he recognized Li Heng, he grinned with a mouth full of yellowed teeth.

“You little rascal’s here. Made quite the show today.”

They were close, deeply familiar. As a child, Li Heng hated labor—instead of working, he either hid in his room reading or trailed after the old man to fish and catch shrimp, learning all sorts of skills.

Second Uncle was also loyal—he always gave Li Heng some fish, shrimp, and eel to ensure his family had a good meal.

Li Heng sat beside him. “Nonsense. It’s all thanks to you, Elder.”

He placed the liquor and sugar beside him. “These are for you, Elder.”

“Good. These candies aren’t cheap. And this liquor—I love it. Been craving it for years, never had the money to buy.” Second Uncle didn’t bother with formalities. He reached out with his bony hand, grabbed the sugar, then the liquor, inspecting both with delight, praising endlessly.

“If you like it, good. Next time I come back, I’ll buy more for you.”

As he and Second Uncle chatted casually, Yang Ying walked over, drawn by the noise.

Li Heng teased, “Dare to sit with me now?”

Yang Ying instinctively wanted to snap back, but remembered he’d finally had his moment of glory—so she swallowed her sharp retort.

“You’re taken now. No need for me to avoid you.”

Li Heng glanced at her. “Taken doesn’t contradict being a roving rake. Didn’t you always think I was a roving rake?”

With an outsider present, Yang Ying didn’t argue about that. Instead, she said, “Shall I cook you two a couple dishes? You can drink with Second Uncle.”

Li Heng glanced at Yang Ying’s father killing the dog and lowered his voice. “Your dad’s always stingy. You dare?”

Yang Ying didn’t answer. She stood up and walked straight to the kitchen—her actions answered the question.

Soon, a plate of peanuts, a plate of sour chili peppers, and a plate of smashed cucumber appeared. Not grand dishes, but sincere—perfect for drinking.

Li Heng called out to her. “Old Rag, come join us.”

Second Uncle hadn’t even called her—he’d already poured her a cup of wine and handed it over, then grabbed two peanuts, chewed slowly, and muttered, “One meal less each time. Yang girl’s cooking keeps getting better. I won’t get many more.”

Yang Ying echoed, “Second Uncle, don’t talk nonsense. I can tell you’ll live to be a hundred.”

Second Uncle held up one hand. “Five months. At most five months. I’m afraid it’ll scare you—I’ve been seeing old friends come to chat with me every night.”

Yang Ying’s father looked up. “Last night, you were muttering under the pear tree long past midnight. Were you talking to someone?”

Second Uncle didn’t answer. He handed a cup of wine to Yang Ying’s father. “Come, have a sip. I’ve watched you grow up. There’s something I’ve always wanted to say to you.”

Yang Ying’s father took the cup, gulped it down. “What nonsense are you going to say now?”

Second Uncle pointed at Yang Ying. “You’re over fifty, always thought yourself clever. But honestly? In my eyes, you’ve always been a fool. If you want to die with dignity, you must treat her kindly. Your three daughters above her can’t match her one finger.”

Yang Ying’s father glanced at Yang Ying, then angrily turned away and went back to killing the dog.

The conversation ended abruptly.

Yang Ying didn’t linger like an eyesore. She gathered her things and left immediately, ignoring all pleas and tugs from her mother and sister.

Li Heng chased after her. “Old Rag, no buses now. Where are you going? To Xiao Han’s?”

Yang Ying’s heart was full of bitterness. “Tell me—if I married a man right now, would I regret it?”

What the hell? Li Heng laughed bitterly. “You’ll definitely regret it.”

Yang Ying’s face was drenched in sorrow. “Then I’ll just go to Xiao Han’s.”

Li Heng asked, “Want me to walk you?”

“No. It’s broad daylight. Why would you need to escort me? Go take care of your own business. You’re heading back to school tomorrow anyway.” Yang Ying refused sharply.

After walking a few steps, she threw down a threat. “Li Heng, once I get into university, I’m never coming back.”

“With your grades, you’ll get in in a few months.”

“I won’t come back during all four years of university.”

“Then what will you eat?”

“I’ve got hands and feet—I won’t starve. If I have to, I’ll scavenge trash and sell it.”

Li Heng asked, “What about your mother? You’re just leaving her?”

Yang Ying said, “When I’m able, I’ll take her away.”

Li Heng fell silent. After a moment, he said, “If that day ever comes, come find me. Maybe I can give you some advice.”

“Mm. I’ll remember that.”

Li Heng fell silent, then said: “If that day ever comes, come find me—I might be able to give you a tip.”

Evening fell.

Li Heng heard Yang Ying’s mother and Tian Run’e discussing their children’s grades, complaining.

Tian Run’e comforted her: “Don’t be sad. With Yang Ying’s grades, Tsinghua and Peking University are guaranteed. Then your son’s attitude will change.”

Yang’s mother whispered, crying softly: “I’m afraid Xiao Si will grow cold and never come back.”

Yang Ying was the fourth child—everyone called her Xiao Si.

Tian Run’e said, “How could she? Her roots are here, you’re here. She’s just talking out of anger—she won’t really stay away.”

Li Heng didn’t quite understand Yang Ying’s father’s logic. Was he truly stupid? Or just too proud to back down?

Clearly, Old Rag was far superior to her three older sisters. Yet he stubbornly despised her, constantly finding fault.

Perhaps feudal peasant thinking still ruled him—he hadn’t changed his views.

He believed no matter how good a daughter was, she’d eventually marry out and become an outsider. He thought Yang Ying had crushed his last hope—no male heir to carry on the family line—so he vented all his rage on his youngest daughter.

After dinner, the second sister sat on the threshold, as always, cracking sunflower seeds.

Seeing her brother approach, she asked half-heartedly, “Want some?”

Fine. Two hundred yuan bought him a cheap word.

Li Heng was speechless. He casually pulled over a small wooden stool with his right foot and sat. “You eat. I’m not interested.”

But the eldest sister drifted over, grabbed a handful, and ate happily.

Watching his sister’s cheerful expression and her increasingly swollen belly, Li Heng asked, “Did your husband come back to see you this spring?”

At the word “husband,” Li Yan shot her a look of contempt.

She had strongly opposed her sister marrying a carpenter’s apprentice—said he had no looks, no talent, no presence. What good was height alone?

But the eldest sister had fallen for him, and their parents didn’t object, so she married him.

At the time, the second sister declared: “If you marry such a short, ugly man, I won’t call him brother-in-law.”

She proved true to her word—she never called him brother-in-law in her lifetime. Even on her wedding day, when he offered red envelopes to coax her into saying it, she stayed silent.

She didn’t call him herself—and she’d also forbidden Li Heng from doing so. Every time he said it, she’d invent some excuse to beat him.

Who could you cry to about such a tyrant?

The eldest sister smiled contentedly. “He came back twice. Brought me a hen, bought meat, and Tianma.”

Two trips from Huaihua in half a year was thoughtful—each round trip took days on foot through deep mountains and forests, not easy at all.

Big Sister said with full satisfaction: “I’ve come back twice; she brought me a hen, bought meat, and also bought Tianma.”

But money was precious then. Who dared waste it? Everyone walked the mountain paths.

Not just to nearby Huaihua—even to distant Mount Hengshan for pilgrimage, people walked. They packed dried food and two sets of spare clothes, then set off in groups.

They didn’t carry water. Along the way, they’d beg for water from villagers. Mountain spring water was best. If not, they’d just drink from the fields.

No joke—Li Heng had drunk from fields as a child. He’d seen leeches and tiny red worms in the water.

At first, he wouldn’t drink. But adults would pick a spot without worms, take a sip, then pat their bellies and say, “Dirty or clean, if you eat it, you won’t get sick.” No one ever fell ill.

Probably, people back then worked hard constantly, had strong constitutions, and were already immune to such hygiene conditions.

Li Heng pulled out a hundred yuan from his pocket and slipped it into his sister’s hand. “I came back in a rush, arrived late in town, didn’t see anything good to buy, so I got nothing. Take this, sister. Buy yourself something you like—something tasty.”

So much money made Li Yan jump. She refused stubbornly, pushing and pulling for a long time.

Finally, Li Lan couldn’t watch anymore. She calmly said, “Only a fool refuses money.”

Li Yan turned. “Huh?”

Li Lan reached out. “If you won’t take it, give it to me. I’ll remember this favor. You’ve got a husband—he gives you eight or ten yuan a year.”

Li Yan looked at her brother, then at her sister. She snatched the money. “My mother-in-law’s sick—needs money. I’ll take it.”

Li Lan glanced at her brother, as if saying: Use some sense. Tailor your approach. Don’t just chase girls all day.

Li Heng rolled his eyes back, ignoring her.

The eldest sister hated being called a fool—couldn’t stand even the hint of “fool.” The second sister’s taunt worked perfectly.

He understood—but he thought it was low.

Someone across the way called the eldest sister over for a visit, hoping to pry out gossip about Li Heng. She happily went.

He wasn’t unaware, he just thought this was too unsavory.

Across the way, someone called out for Big Sister to drop by for a visit, hoping to pry more gossip about Li Heng from her; Big Sister happily went.

Li Lan and Li Heng didn’t stop her; they never expected much from this older sister—happiness mattered most.

When the visitor left, Li Lan asked him, “You gave away all your money—what will you use?”

Li Heng said, “I still have my scholarship.”

Only then did Li Lan realize it; she hummed “oh,” and went back to cracking sunflower seeds.

After listening for a while to the neighbors’ murmurs by the threshold, the two siblings went upstairs, lighting lamps to read.

One student from the nursing school is graduating this year and will soon start working.

Another has only a month left before the college entrance exam—his studies are even more intense.

Before splitting up on the second floor, Li Heng asked, “Was that guy with the thick eyebrows and big eyes courting you?”

Li Lan tilted her chin up: “There are so many chasing me—all of them with thick eyebrows and big eyes.”

Li Heng found it amusing and said, “They’re all lickspittles.”

The word “lickspittle” made Li Lan pause, but the next second she understood its literal meaning and immediately turned it back on him: “Are you Eileen Chen’s lickspittle?”

Li Heng glared at her.

Li Lan switched names: “Song Yu’s?”

Li Heng pushed her aside, stepping past her toward his own room.

Li Lan taunted from behind: “If you can make Xiaomi Chen fall for you, I’ll respect you.”

This sister just wouldn’t give up—such a wicked mind.

Li Heng Landegentafeihua , kicked the door open with his foot, and slipped inside.

The night passed without incident—he reviewed Chinese, solved a set of math problems, memorized some politics, then finally slept.

Without a watch, he didn’t know the hour, only that the night was deep—even the dogs had stopped barking.

PS: Requesting monthly tickets! Requesting subscriptions!

Yesterday I had stomach pain and rested half the afternoon; today I still do.

(End of chapter)