Chapter 85: Take a Bite Out of the Cabbage First (Combined 7000+ Words, Requesting Votes)

Professor Ke hung up the phone, and Wen Leyu immediately leaned over, worriedly asking: “Mom, Dad seems... really angry?”

“Hmph~”

Professor Ke smiled and said: “It’s fine. He just doesn’t understand the situation—if he knew how he got back, he’d have not a single ounce of anger left.”

Wen Leyu blinked, pointed toward the hallway outside the office, and whispered: “He doesn’t know about Li Ye’s novel?”

“He definitely doesn’t,” Professor Ke told her daughter. “Your father took a train from the north two days ago, only arrived in Jingcheng today, then went straight to Uncle Peng’s place—when would he have time to find out about novels?”

Professor Ke had not told Wen Qingsheng about using “Fenghuo Taobing” to maneuver connections, since it was still uncertain whether it would succeed—telling him would only add unnecessary stress and worry.

But she hadn’t expected things to unfold so suddenly—today she received her husband’s call, and he was already in Jingcheng and had met Uncle Peng.

Uncle Peng and his circle certainly wouldn’t mention the novel to Wen Qingsheng.

Should she tell him: “Lately so many people have returned, we’re swamped—originally we forgot about you entirely, until a novel reminded us you’re still this little brat...”?

Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?

Wouldn’t that be annoying?

“Oh~”

After hearing Professor Ke’s words, Wen Leyu instantly felt relieved.

But then she remembered something else and quietly asked her mother: “Then what about the things Dad said just now at Uncle Peng’s...”

Though young, Wen Leyu had grown up in an environment where she’d picked up certain truths.

Wen Qingsheng’s heated words on the phone would’ve sounded terrible if overheard by outsiders.

Professor Ke smiled and shook her head, offering no further explanation.

If it were purely a professional relationship, Wen Qingsheng wouldn’t dare utter a word in front of them—he’d have to swallow it all.

But since he’d been raised under their watch, occasionally crying or throwing a tantrum could earn him more favors.

The crying child gets the milk—Wen Qingsheng is stubborn, but not foolish.

“Uncle, I’ve suffered for years! My wife and child suffered too! I nearly died of longing! My father... waaahhhhh!”

Of course, each cry thinned the favor a little—never to be used lightly.

But it’s already 1982, and many have returned; one Luobo one pit—if you don’t cry or fuss now, are you waiting to eat rotten peaches?

As for Wen Qingsheng’s emotional outburst on the phone, that was only human—Uncle Peng wouldn’t hold it against him.

And judging from the current outcome, it was far better than Professor Ke had expected—so she was both happy and deeply satisfied.

“Alright, don’t worry about this. Just focus on your exam.”

Wen Leyu nodded firmly, joyfully saying: “In just over a month, I’ll see Dad and my brother!”

“Not even a month,” Professor Ke said confidently. “With your father’s temper, he’ll come see us soon.”

As Professor Ke and Wen Leyu stepped out of the principal’s office, they were met by Principal Chang, beaming like a chrysanthemum in full bloom.

Principal Chang had overheard Professor Ke’s earlier words—“Now I’m leaving, that would be irresponsible to the child”—and understood that this fallen phoenix had just been reborn from fire.

The wrinkles on Principal Chang’s face, formed by his grin, were packed with “congratulations, congratulations.”

Seeing Principal Chang approaching, Professor Ke spoke first: “Thank you, Principal Chang. For these past six months, I’m grateful for your care...”

“Don’t be silly,” Principal Chang laughed heartily. “It should be me thanking you. Since you came, our county No.2 High’s English level has skyrocketed—many students did exceptionally well on this mock exam!”

“Oh, nothing much...”

Watching her mother chat endlessly with the principal, Wen Leyu slipped away quietly and walked toward Li Ye, who was waiting nearby.

Seeing Wen Leyu’s uncontainable joy, Li Ye smiled and asked: “Good news?”

Wen Leyu bit back a smile, nodded firmly, and didn’t explain right away.

But as she stepped close to Li Ye, she whispered: “I’ll tell you later.”

Li Ye didn’t need to ask—he could guess it with near certainty.

He simply smiled: “Alright, tonight I’ll cook a few good dishes to celebrate.”

He Weiguo, who had come with Li Ye and the others, had already started slipping away toward the back.

Watching how warmly the principal and Professor Ke were interacting, he decided to get out fast—before he got punished and had nowhere to complain.

But he’d barely taken two steps when he heard Li Ye’s voice behind him.

“Leaving already? Not gonna chat a bit?”

“.........”

“I, I still have homework to do at home!”

He Weiguo didn’t even turn his head—he bolted, vowing never to associate with that curse, Li Ye, again.

That night, Li Ye personally cooked several dishes, leaving Wen Leyu and the others astonished.

They’d assumed Li Ye was all talk and no action—but clearly, his hands were just as skilled.

Li Ye had also bought orange soda that day, and the atmosphere around the small dining table instantly warmed up.

Everyone imitated adults drinking, clinking glasses and saying “I toast you!” and “I’ll drink mine first!”—laughing and chattering merrily.

At this moment, Li Ye saw in Han Xia, Hu Man, and the others the youthful, lively, mischievous spirit of girls from the future.

Especially Wen Leyu—she seemed to have instantly shed the chains binding her; her radiant smile left Li Ye and Li Dayong utterly awestruck.

In Li Ye’s memory, this little girl had only laughed like this once before.

【Taming has made modest progress—I am well pleased.】

After half a year of Li Ye’s guidance, Wen Leyu’s skin now bore a faint flush, and certain areas had swelled slightly, like sprouting buds.

But compared to Hu Man and Han Xia, she still lagged behind.

Yet Li Ye, a veteran of decades, had long learned to view things with a developmental perspective.

A girl changes greatly at eighteen—that’s one threshold; the other comes after marriage and motherhood.

Girls like Han Xia, with broad frames, might become broad-shouldered and sturdy after thirty if they didn’t maintain discipline—but if they did, they’d stay fine.

But girls like Wen Leyu, when they reached that stage, would swell like a balloon—gaining curves where needed, staying slim where appropriate.

That’s the real long-term benefit for men!

Some girls offer only fleeting beauty,

Others are worth possessing for a lifetime.

Professor Ke’s news spread quickly through the entire school.

Everyone’s gaze toward Professor Ke and Wen Leyu changed.

Previously, Professor Ke had merely been an unpaid teacher earning 18.5 yuan a month—now she was a “big shot” beyond anyone’s reach.

Rumor had it that some county officials wanted to visit and show warmth—but Professor Ke had politely declined.

A well-informed source leaked a half-true, half-false tidbit—that before coming down, Professor Ke had held a rank half a level higher than the city’s top officials.

County No.2 High also improved Professor Ke’s living conditions.

Principal Chang had wanted to move her to a more respectable residence, but Professor Ke refused—she’d only be staying another month, no need for such upheaval.

With no other option, Principal Chang had the small dormitory completely refurbished—new bed, new desk, new door, new windows.

If the Post and Telecommunications Bureau hadn’t been so powerful back then, Principal Chang might have even installed a private phone for her.

But in her treatment of students, Professor Ke remained unchanged.

Still gentle, still refined—when students came to ask questions, she never showed the slightest impatience, even during evening self-study hours.

That night, Professor Ke was on duty in her office.

It had been her habit since arriving at County No.2 High: any student needing help could knock anytime—she’d upheld this for hundreds of days without fail.

“Knock knock knock~”

“Come in~”

Jin Shengli and Xia Yue entered the office, smiling nervously at the kind Professor Ke.

“Oh, it’s you two! Have a seat!”

Professor Ke didn’t treat them coldly because of Xia Yue’s earlier clash with Li Ye—she greeted them calmly and invited them to sit.

After sitting down, they fell silent for two seconds, then Jin Shengli spoke up: “Professor Ke, we’ve come today to ask your advice—

Based on our current English scores and level, do we meet the special admission criteria for Beijing Foreign Languages College?”

“You’re applying to Beijing Foreign Languages College?”

Professor Ke was surprised—English talent had become increasingly valuable in recent years, driving up demand for foreign language schools.

Jin Shengli, who could barely score fifty or sixty out of a hundred-point exam, wanted special admission? That was... overreaching.

Xia Yue was better—she’d scored 83 on the mock exam, which was quite good for a small place like Qingshui County.

But Beijing Foreign Languages College wasn’t an ordinary school—countless people nationwide were fighting tooth and nail to get in.

Professor Ke thought for a moment and said: “I don’t know the exact special admission standards for Beijing, but last year, Lu Jingyao scored 97 on her college entrance English exam, and last year Beijing Foreign Languages College’s admission score for science students in Dongshan was relatively low.”

Professor Ke emphasized “college entrance exam” and “97,” hoping they’d understand that the college entrance exam wasn’t the mock exam—and that Xia Yue wasn’t necessarily Lu Jingyao.

Jin Shengli showed no reaction, but Xia Yue’s expression clearly shifted.

Professor Ke guessed Jin Shengli was asking on Xia Yue’s behalf—Xia Yue, embarrassed by her minor conflict with Li Ye, didn’t dare come herself.

Xia Yue frowned and finally blurted out: “Professor Ke, what if I score over 90 in English?”

Professor Ke replied: “You’d still need to consider your other subjects—even with score reductions, there’s a limit.”

Jin Shengli immediately said: “Last year, Lu Jingyao scored 361 total. If we score over 400 this year, wouldn’t that be enough?”

“This...”

Professor Ke truly didn’t know what to say.

These kids only looked at numbers when choosing applications, never realizing the subtleties involved.

This year’s college entrance exam total score increased by 60 points over last year.

Mathematics rose by 20, English by 20, and biology by 20.

Xia Yue scored 404 in her mock exam, over 40 points higher than Lu Jingyao, so after adjustment, she still seemed slightly ahead.

But scores aren’t calculated that way.

In the 1980s, with no syllabus or standard, the difficulty of exam questions was unpredictable—for example, in the 1985 Chinese exam, only one out of eight university students passed.

Under such volatile conditions, relying on special admission is far too risky.

“I can’t be certain—I think the risk is significant.”

Teacher Ke offered a balanced opinion.

In her view, Xia Yue’s current score was already good; a safer application strategy was the right path.

Lu Jingyao had studied one-on-one with Teacher Ke for a long time before taking that risky step—Xia Yue still had a long way to go.

Xia Yue lowered her head, then quickly raised it again and said firmly: “Teacher Ke, what if I score 430?”

“Then... the possibility is high, but I think 440 is the safe target.”

Teacher Ke had seen too many students like Xia Yue—she pretended to seek advice, but she didn’t want analysis; she only wanted approval.

If Xia Yue scores 440, she can still apply to Beijing Foreign Languages College—even if she doesn’t get into English, she can be reassigned to a minor language.

These kids think foreign languages are glamorous, but they don’t know about languages like Punjabi.

“Thank you, Teacher Ke. We’ll be going now.”

Teacher Ke’s ambiguous words filled Xia Yue with sudden confidence; she stood up and bid Jin Shengli farewell.

Teacher Ke paused, then added: “Actually, Xia Yue, you don’t have to take the Beijing exam—many other undergraduate schools are excellent too. The college entrance exam is too unpredictable; safety comes first.”

“I understand. Thank you, Teacher Ke.”

Watching Xia Yue’s retreating back, Teacher Ke sighed.

How can a child obsessed with a single goal listen to reason?

After leaving Teacher Ke’s office, Jin Shengli also urged Xia Yue: “Why not apply elsewhere? Play it safe.”

But Xia Yue said: “Lu Jingyao wrote. She got us a few more volumes of the self-study series—Algebra and Plane Geometry included.”

Right now, what you and I lack most is algebra and geometry—if we fill this gap, can we reach 430?”

“That... that’s amazing.”

Jin Shengli was overjoyed.

These past few days, they had just received the self-study series from Lu Jingyao and were thrilled after reading them.

The self-study series was Shanghai Scientific and Technical Publishing House’s “Mathematics, Physics, and Chemistry Self-Study Series,” commonly called “The Seventeen Books.”

Reprinted in 1977 amid severe book shortages, they were in high demand and impossible to find on the market. The first people to own the full set of seventeen must have had extraordinary connections.

Lu Jingyao said she got only three volumes of Chemistry through a well-connected friend.

Chemistry was also Xia Yue’s weakness—and the entire No. 2 County High’s weakness.

The school had no chemistry lab; even many teachers didn’t fully understand such abstract concepts—it was like talking to a duck.

But the Chemistry volume in the self-study series was rich in content, clear and accessible, and perfectly suited for self-study.

Even half a century later, this book still held significant reference value.

Since receiving Lu Jingyao’s exam papers, both Xia Yue and Jin Shengli had seen dramatic score increases—gaining dozens of points each.

So naturally, they believed that filling the gaps in Chemistry and Algebra would propel them to the next level.

420, 430, even 440—all within reach.

Wen Leyu’s father arrived sooner than expected.

As a luxury sedan and a large truck pulled into No. 2 County High, Wen Leyu was studying with Li Ye and others at the Second Grain Store.

Teacher Luo rushed in shouting, “Wen Leyu, your dad’s here!”—the girl froze for five or six seconds.

Then she shot to her feet, rushing to leave—but stopped, turning back to look at Li Ye.

Her eyes, clear as autumn water, silently asked: “Will you come with me?”

Li Ye smiled and nodded slightly, urging her to go.

At a moment like this, he wasn’t suited to intrude.

If she remembered his kindness, she’d show it in her own way; rushing over would only demean himself and place him in an awkward position.

Wen Leyu dashed off like the wind.

Inside the small warehouse, Hu Man and the others watched her with envy—and Li Ye.

By now, even a blind man could see Wen Leyu had a special attachment to Li Ye.

If this continued... it would be something extraordinary.

Wen Qingsheng’s visit to Qingshui was low-key—he donated a truckload of grain and supplies to the school, a gesture of gratitude for the past half-year of care the school had shown Teacher Ke.

This was far better than empty words; teachers and students alike praised her, speaking only of the goodness of Teacher Ke and her daughter, forgetting entirely how desolate they’d been when they first arrived.

That evening, Wen Leyu returned to the Second Grain Store.

She told Li Ye that tomorrow she’d go with her parents to the countryside to visit neighbors and friends she’d known over the years.

The girl chattered on: how last year, a neighbor’s aunt, seeing her sick, had cooked her own chicken and brought it over;

how one rainy day, when their roof leaked, kind neighbors had quietly repaired it at great risk.

These small kindnesses, Teacher Ke had remembered every one of them—and each deserved a visit.

Before leaving, Wen Leyu hesitated, blushing, then said to Li Ye: “Don’t rush! Dad doesn’t know you yet—Mom will tell him.”

Li Ye wasn’t in a hurry—he knew good things couldn’t be rushed.

As for this little girl, he had her firmly in hand.

Wen Qingsheng and Teacher Ke spent the entire day visiting everyone they owed, and by the time they returned to the school dormitory, it was night.

“Xiao Yu, sleep with Hu Man in the girls’ dorm tonight—I need to talk to your father.”

“Okay!”

Wen Leyu answered eagerly—she’d been anxious these past two days, waiting for her mother to tell her father about Li Ye.

The small debts were paid; the biggest one still hung unacknowledged.

After Wen Leyu left, Teacher Ke placed a complete manuscript on Wen Qingsheng’s desk.

“This is why you suddenly came back. Read it—you’ll understand.”

Wen Qingsheng was stunned. He’d asked his wife why he’d returned so abruptly, but she’d said nothing—he’d assumed it was his own doing.

He’d been eager to handle urgent matters, but now he picked up the manuscript and flipped through it quickly, distracted.

But after only five minutes, he realized something.

He looked up at his wife in shock: “Is this... about Father and the old generation?”

Teacher Ke nodded: “Last year, I’d lost all connections. You know, there were many people like you.

Then by chance, I found someone to write this book—and that’s how I got in, how things turned around...”

Wen Qingsheng’s eyes grew red. He said to Teacher Ke: “You’ve suffered so much. I never expected you’d be the one who never gave up on me.”

Teacher Ke laughed, half-angry: “Who else would it be? We’re grasshoppers tied to the same rope—for life.”

“That sounds awful.”

Wen Qingsheng smiled and returned to the manuscript.

At first, he was moved—clearly remembering the older generation, touched by their memory.

But then he stopped moving, frozen in place for a long time.

He was absorbed.

Internet novels forty years later thrive on psychological hooks—far more gripping than 1980s literature.

One hour, two hours—

Teacher Ke made up the bed and sighed: “Enough. Put it down. Tomorrow I’ll take you to meet the author.”

“Yes, yes, okay.”

Wen Qingsheng agreed, undressing and lying down—but his eyes never left the manuscript.

Twenty minutes later,

“Stop reading. Sleep.”

“Mmm, just a little more... just a little more.”

Teacher Ke flew into a rage, snatched the manuscript, and threw it across the room.

After years apart, reunion like rain on parched earth—and you choose to read all night?

You’ve got your priorities wrong.

Long after, Teacher Ke spoke softly: “Do you know that for the past two or three years, Xiao Yu hasn’t spoken?

I remember one month when she said only three words to me—and none to anyone else.”

“What?”

Wen Qingsheng sat up abruptly, frantic: “Xiao Yu stopped speaking? Then... why didn’t you tell me...”

Teacher Ke pulled him back down, whispering: “What good would telling you do? Could you fly here to save us?”

“........”

Wen Qingsheng fell into a guilty silence, then said: “But lately, I’ve been watching our girl… it seems…”

“There’s nothing wrong now,” said Teacher Ke: “Since she came to County No. 2 High last year, she’s been learning novel-writing with Li Ye. That lifeline of yours? Your daughter had a hand in it.”

“Of course she is—my daughter’s the best. These past years, I’ve lived off her letters… hmm?”

Wen Qingsheng felt something was off. He asked Teacher Ke: “Who exactly is this Li Ye?”

Teacher Ke said: “Li Ye is Xiao Yu’s classmate. They sat together. At the time, Li Ye was writing a novel called ‘Infiltration’…”

Teacher Ke spent a long time detailing every event of the past half-year to Wen Qingsheng, leaving him utterly stunned.

“Zhiyu, you’re telling me this Li Ye… is still a child?”

“Mm. One year older than Xiao Yu.”

“Hssss…”

Wen Qingsheng drew in a breath, feeling disbelief.

He simply couldn’t believe a mere boy had played such a huge role in his life.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I’ve been here two days and haven’t even thanked him—won’t people point fingers at my back?”

Wen Qingsheng felt annoyed. He was a man who clearly distinguished gratitude from resentment; once he owed someone, he couldn't rest easy.

Teacher Ke said: “Go see him tomorrow! But I’ll tell you this—our Xiao Yu might have feelings for him. I didn’t stop it. Let it unfold naturally…”

“……”

Wen Qingsheng stared for a long while, then slowly said: “Then I’ll have to take a good look… But don’t worry—no matter what happens later, we won’t let him down. I, Wen Qingsheng, have always been loyal.”

“Exactly, exactly—you’re so loyal. If you weren’t so loyal, you wouldn’t be in this mess today.”

………………

Li Ye half-awake heard Da Huang barking. He looked up—the sky outside had just begun to lighten.

He got dressed and stepped out. At the gate, Gatekeeper Gu Shu had already opened it.

Seeing Teacher Ke leading in a tall man, Li Ye knew who it was.

“No wonder Wen Leyu grew so tall.”

In this era, a girl at 1.7 meters was very tall. Seeing Wen Qingsheng’s 1.86-meter frame, it was clear this was heredity.

Li Ye was studying Wen Qingsheng. Wen Qingsheng was studying Li Ye.

Seeing Li Ye, he exchanged a glance with Teacher Ke—as if saying: “This kid’s not bad. Not worse than me.”

Teacher Ke smirked, saying nothing.

Li Ye’s looks were truly flawless—every mother-in-law in the world would be satisfied.

Li Ye spoke up: “Hello, Teacher Ke. This gentleman is…?”

Before Teacher Ke could introduce him, Wen Qingsheng extended his hand: “Hello, Li Ye. I’m Wen Qingsheng.”

Li Ye quickly shook his hand: “Hello, Uncle Wen. Please come in!”

Wen Qingsheng’s palm was broad and his grip firm, giving a solid, reassuring feeling.

Yet from the man’s eyes, Li Ye recognized a gaze he’d seen in his past life.

A father-in-law sizing up his future son-in-law? That’s pure scrutiny.

Anyone who’s raised a cabbage for over a decade won’t be happy when a pig comes to nibble it.

Usually, the pig must be careful—stealthily take one nibble first, to pass the test.

But Li Ye, over the past half-year, had already left a tooth mark on Wen Leyu’s cabbage.

Sure enough, the next moment Wen Qingsheng said: “Good lad. A bit too thin, though.”

【Where am I thin? I’m the classic ‘clothes make me look slim, bare skin shows muscle—appeals to all ages.’ Don’t believe me? Look at Teacher Ke’s eyes.】

But since he brought it up, Li Ye had to prove him wrong with action.

Right by the small storage shed’s entrance stood a large water tank for storing rainwater.

With tap water unavailable all day, collecting rain or tap water for washing was normal.

Li Ye casually swept his hand—and the tank slid several meters away, making the shed’s entrance look more spacious.

Wen Qingsheng’s eyes lit up—slightly satisfied.

The boy looked thin, but he’s got strength.

“Please come in, Uncle Wen, Teacher Ke.”

Wen Qingsheng followed Li Ye into the shed, seeing the small blackboard, the desk, and piles of exam papers—he nodded.

His wife was cultured; his daughter would surely become a college student. If Li Ye were lazy, he’d feel disappointed.

In one corner of the shed stood Li Ye’s personal desk, atop which lay yesterday’s newly written manuscript.

Wen Qingsheng walked over, picked up a few pages, and couldn’t help sighing.

Whether he admitted it or not—he owed this boy a great debt.

“I heard you’re applying to Jingda?”

“Yes. I want to see Jingda.”

Wen Qingsheng asked: “Won’t writing novels interfere with your college entrance exam?”

Li Ye said: “It shouldn’t. I only write a little each day. The rest of the time, I still do problems.”

Wen Qingsheng nodded, extended his hand again: “When you get to Beijing, come to my house for a drink.”

Li Ye shook his hand and replied: “I will. I’ll definitely visit you and Teacher Ke.”

Wen Qingsheng gripped Li Ye’s hand tightly: “I came in a hurry, no time to visit your home. I’ll ask Teacher Ke to go on my behalf—to pay respects to your elders.”

“Of course, of course.”

Li Ye felt a surge of joy.

At Wen Qingsheng’s level, visiting Li’s home directly would be inappropriate.

So by sending Teacher Ke officially, he signaled: our two families are now connected—different from ordinary outsiders.

Wen Qingsheng left. Throughout, he never said “thank you” to Li Ye.

First, pretty words are worthless—actions reveal sincerity.

Second, from his wife’s talk last night, he knew this boy might one day call him… what?

If he said “thank you” now, and lost face later, how would he keep his dignity? How would he drink that wine?

Too awkward.