Colorful years

The fulfilling and intense study life passed by in the blink of an eye, and before we knew it, almost two months had gone by.

During this time, Congcong immersed himself in the sea of ​​knowledge and worked hard, but at the same time, the 100 jin of grain he had prepaid was gradually running out, with very little left. Not only that, his living expenses and pocket money were also at a critical point where they urgently needed to be replenished.

As agreed beforehand, the father, Zhang Zhong, would deliver new food and expenses to the school in the next few days.

At that moment, as Zhang Cong was thinking of his father, Zhang Zhong, dozens of miles away, was carrying a heavy load of 100 jin (50 kg) of rice, walking hurriedly on the road leading to Ganziping Middle School.

The distance from Diaolan Village to Ganziping Middle School is a full fifty kilometers! Such a long journey, coupled with the hundred-pound load on his shoulders, makes the difficulty unimaginable.

Some might ask: "Didn't the Baiheping Commune, where Zhang Cong lived, have a road as early as 1974? Why did Zhang Zhong still have to carry everything on his shoulders to get to the city?"

Zhang Zhong decided to shoulder this heavy responsibility and go into the city, and there were actually two crucial reasons behind this. The first was his annoying motion sickness; for Zhang Zhong, traveling by car was a nightmare. As soon as the car started moving, a dizzying, nauseating feeling would surge up, making him suffer terribly.

Therefore, even if the journey is long, he would rather measure the land step by step with his own two feet than endure the torment of traveling by car.

Another reason is closely related to his son, Zhang Cong, who is preparing for the college entrance examination at a high school in the county. As the exam approaches, Zhang Cong's living and study expenses have suddenly increased several times over. Every expense is like a huge boulder weighing on Zhang Zhong's heart, making it hard to breathe.

In order to save even a little money for his child, Zhang Zhong did not hesitate to give up convenient transportation and resolutely took up his load and embarked on the journey to the city.

As the sun set, Zhang Zhong carried his load of rice into the county town, then took a boat from the South Gate Wharf across the Li River, and trudged laboriously along the riverbank of Xianren Creek towards Ganziping Middle School. This rocky, scraggly river was the only way to reach his destination; there were no other roads on either side.

Although it was late autumn and early winter, the afterglow of the setting sun still radiated scorching heat. Zhang Zhong was already drenched in sweat, large beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks and dripping onto the rocks on the riverbank, disappearing instantly without a trace.

His shoulders ached from the weight of the carrying pole, but for his son's sake, he gritted his teeth and persevered, moving forward step by step.

The river shimmered in the setting sun, its surface rippling as if countless tiny silver fish were leaping merrily. However, Zhang Zhong had no heart to appreciate the beautiful scenery. His mind was preoccupied with only one thought: to deliver the food and funds to his son as quickly as possible.

Just then, Zhang Zhong suddenly cried out "Ouch!" and slipped and fell on the riverbank, scattering rice all over the ground and injuring his leg.

Zhang Zhong winced in pain as he struggled to get up, only to find that his legs seemed powerless. Looking down, he saw blood seeping from his knee, staining the surrounding pebbles red.

"What should we do?" Zhang Zhong was extremely anxious. He knew that the fall had not only injured him, but worse, it had also spilled the rice, which was his son's food supply for the next few months!

He gritted his teeth against the pain, bracing himself with his hands on the ground, trying to stand up again. However, each attempt ended in failure. He sat helplessly on the ground, looking at the rice scattered everywhere, his heart filled with despair.

Just then, a young man in blue overalls came from upstream. He saw Zhang Zhong fall to the ground, with rice scattered all over the place, and immediately ran over.

"Uncle, what happened? How did you fall?" the young man asked with concern.

Zhang Zhong looked up at him, sighed, and said, "Oh dear, I slipped and fell, hurt my leg, and spilled the rice. What am I going to do?"

Upon hearing this, the young man immediately knelt down to examine Zhang Zhong's wound. He took out a clean handkerchief and carefully wiped away the blood and dirt around Zhang Zhong's wound.

"Don't worry, uncle, let me bandage your wound first." The young man said as he took out a handkerchief from his pocket and gave Zhang Zhong a simple bandage.

After the bandaging was finished, the young man stood up again and said to Zhang Zhong, "Uncle, don't worry, let me help you pick up the rice."

As he spoke, he bent down and began picking up the rice grains from the ground one by one. Zhang Zhong quickly followed suit, and the two of them worked together for more than half an hour before finally picking up most of the rice. However, the rice grains buried deep in the sand and gravel could only be left to their own devices.

"Thank you so much, young man!" Zhang Zhong said gratefully.

"Don't mention it, uncle. It must be hard for you to carry so much rice into town all by yourself. Let me help you carry it for a while." The young man said, taking the carrying pole from Zhang Zhong's shoulder and lifting the rice.

Zhang Zhong wanted to refuse, but seeing the young man's determined eyes, he had no choice but to nod.

The two continued along the riverbank, the young man carrying the rice in front, Zhang Zhong following behind. Although the young man's steps were not easy, he persevered through sheer willpower.

"Young man, what's your name? What do you do for a living?" Zhang Zhong asked as he walked.

“My name is Li Qiang, and I work at the county hydroelectric power station,” the young man replied, turning around.

"Oh, a hydroelectric power station worker? That's a good job." Upon hearing this, Zhang Zhong couldn't help but feel more respect for Li Qiang.

"Uncle, your son studies at Ganziping Middle School, right? I've heard that the teaching quality there is very good, and he'll definitely get into a good university in the future," Li Qiang said.