Chapter 20: Money

In June 1986, the Land Administration Law was promulgated; after issuance, local county-level governments were responsible for inventorying, publicizing, formulating procedures, and distributing documents.

Actually, the official registration and certification work began in December 1986.

According to the Land Administration Law and related documents: rural villagers seeking to use homestead land for residential construction must first apply to their collective economic organization.

The application must be approved by a villagers' meeting and publicly posted within the collective economic organization or villagers' group.

Rural villagers who meet certain conditions may apply for homestead land—for example, if they need to split households due to children's marriage and lack homestead land.

The homestead land at the center of Cheng Chen's family's lawsuit with the village chief was the one his uncle Cheng Mingyuan applied for after getting married.

But because the family was financially strained and lacked extra money to build a house, nearly two years passed without construction after the homestead was approved.

According to relevant legal provisions, if no residential building is constructed on an approved homestead within two years, the original approval document becomes invalid.

"Actually, it's not even two years yet—just one year and eight months; four months still remain until the deadline."

"When the homestead was approved, we didn't even know there was a time limit—if we had, we'd have sold every pot and pan to build the house."

Grandpa crushed out his cigarette butt, pulled another from the pack, lit it, and continued:

"Liu Wenjiang can't wait anymore—his youngest son is dating a girl from the Li family in Li Lou Cun."

Now she's pregnant, and without a house they'll have to abort the child, so they've set their sights on our homestead land."

He's counting on the fact that our family has no money to build a house—that's why he dares to do this!"

Cheng Chen sat quietly to the side; Liu Wenjiang was the village chief of Liu Jia Cun.

Our old Cheng family, by contrast, were refugees who came here long ago—what common folks call "wild households."

In a rural society steeped in clan loyalty, let alone Liu Wenjiang's position as village chief—

even if any Liu family member from Liu Jia Cun bullied us, our old Cheng family could only endure it.

Blood ties always come before justice!

"Smoke, smoke, smoke! All you know is smoking—may it kill you!"

Grandma took off her apron and handed Cheng Chen a bamboo steamer piled high with freshly steamed buns:

"Chengzi, you must be starving—these buns are hot off the steamer, eat up. Let the adults deal with that mess—you're still young, it's none of your business."

Looking at the dozen or so buns on the steamer, Cheng Chen smiled bitterly:

"Nai, I just ate instant noodles at the station—I'm not hungry yet."

"What good are those instant noodles? All soup and water, won't fill you up, no nutrition—take them and eat!"

Forcing the steamer into Cheng Chen's hands, Grandma hurried back to the kitchen, relieved.

Watching Grandma's back, Cheng Chen's nose prickled with tears.

He had been raised by his grandparents, once planning to earn money when he grew up to properly care for them.

But Grandpa, already in poor health, died upon hearing the court ruling on the homestead case.

Grandma had always been strong-willed, constantly belittling Grandpa, calling him as timid as a turtle, and constantly ordering him around.

Yet three years after Grandpa's death, she too passed away, broken by grief.

"This lifetime, I will never let the events of last life repeat."

Cheng Chen silently resolved.

"Grandpa, how much money do we have left at home?" Cheng Chen took a small bite of the bun and asked slowly.

Grandpa glanced at him, then slowly held up one hand.

"Fifty thousand?"

"Five hundred!"

Grandpa coughed in anger, shot him a disgruntled look—this grandson thought their family ran a bank, opening his mouth with fifty thousand?

Remember, in 2002, the per capita GDP of Hui Sheng was only 3,519.

Not to mention Nan County, a rural area that didn't shed its impoverished county status until 2020.

"Your grandma and I have always been in poor health,

we were hospitalized just recently, and we've never stopped taking medicine.

Your parents work the fields while caring for us old folks—how much can farming possibly earn?

Plus, your uncle just got married last year, and the bride price is still unpaid.

He and your aunt are smashing rocks in some mountain hollow near Hang Cheng—they're barely managing to survive themselves."

The old man smoked slowly, his eyes filled with sorrow and guilt as he spoke.

"Grandpa, I've got sixteen thousand here—take it for the family. If it's not enough, I'll borrow more.

As long as we build the house within the remaining four months, Liu Wenjiang won't have a word to say."

Cheng Chen pulled out a thick stack of cash from his backpack and handed it to Grandpa.

This money was the filming fee sent by the production crew after Lai Dao learned of Cheng Chen's family troubles.

After taxes, plus the savings he'd accumulated over the years by living frugally.

In the county town, Cheng Chen had withdrawn it all from the bank—he knew he'd need money once he got home.

"This money…"

Grandpa's calloused hands trembled as he took the cash, his face filled with shock.

"Don't worry, Grandpa—this money is from acting in Heaven Sword and Dragon Sabre—you know that? I played Song Qingshu!"

"Don't know."

Cheng Chen: …

He had a sudden urge to take the money back.

"Good! My boy's come into his own! Our old Cheng family's got someone on TV now, hahaha!"

The old man held the money, his face beaming with a simple, earnest smile.

"Laugh, laugh, laugh at what? You've been useless your whole life, and now your grandson has to give you money."

"Don't you think about the hardships your grandson endures outside? Hurry up and put the money away!"

Grandma stood at the door, hands on her hips, scolding Grandpa—when she turned her head, she wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

"This is money your grandson gave you out of filial piety."

The old man, delighted, took out his cigarette again, but when he saw his wife standing there, he grinned weakly and reluctantly put it back.

……

Eight o'clock at night.

The entire Liu Jia Cun was pitch black; kerosene lamps flickered occasionally.

From outside came occasional barks of dogs and the cries of crying children.

Cheng Chen stood at the village entrance, shining a flashlight around.

His parents had gone to the county town for a full day and still hadn't returned.

"I hope nothing's happened."

Cheng Chen muttered to himself.

No sooner had he spoken than the sound of a man and woman talking came from the road.

"That Liu family is no good. How are you doing now? Does your face still hurt?"

"I'm fine. Don't tell Dad and Mom about being beaten today, so they won't worry."

"What are you saying? They're not fools—your face is bruised, how could they not notice?"

"Say we fell off our bicycles in the dark?"

"Sigh…"

The man sighed, feeling a deep sense of injustice inside.

"Dad, Mom—did the Liu Wenjiang family beat you?"

Cheng Chen was unexpectedly furious; he recognized his parents' voices at once and immediately shone the flashlight toward them.

He saw his tall father pushing a bicycle, his mother sitting on the rear rack.

Both were disheveled; his father's face bore bruises, and his clothes were torn and ragged.

His mother's long, glossy black hair hung in tangles, and a dark bruise marred her lip.

"Chengzi?"

"Why are you back?"

……