Reborn in a small village in the 1990s

Zhao Tingxu sighed. His wife had been mistaken for a human trafficker and sent to Bali, his granddaughter wanted to live in a big house, and his son was asking where the money had gone. Life was full of obstacles, one step at a time, and it was incredibly difficult.

Zhao Tingxu took out his tobacco pouch and rolled a cigarette. The tobacco pouch was essentially a small instant noodle packet filled with tobacco and some newspaper to use as cigarette paper. This was common in rural areas; people couldn't afford cigarettes with filters, so they smoked dry tobacco. It was cheap and saved money.

Zhao Tingxu rolled a cigarette, took a puff, and handed the tobacco pouch to Zhao Tiesheng. Zhao Tiesheng also rolled a cigarette, lit it, and puffed away.

After a while, Zhao Tiesheng asked, "Dad, what did that relative my sister's son-in-law found say? He took five hundred yuan from our family, but my mother still can't be released. If he can't get things done, I have to get the money back."

Zhao Tingxu nodded: "I'll talk to your little sister about it later. That person is really unreliable. He made all sorts of promises, but it didn't work out. In the end, we still have to send Da Ya. If Da Ya doesn't go to testify, her grandma probably won't be able to get out of here."

As the head of the family, Zhao Tingxu was clear-headed. Even though his son Zhao Tiesheng was over thirty, Zhao Tingxu still had the final say in everything at home. He took a puff of his pipe and said slowly, "Second son, how about this? Just agree to whatever Da Ya says. Release your mother's people first, and we'll talk about the rest later."

Zhao Tiesheng said somewhat awkwardly, "Da'e said that my wife, Cheng Jinxiang, isn't feeling well during her postpartum period, so she needs to stay..."

Zhao Tingxu scolded, "Fine, fine, fine. I agree. Your wife will stay in the master bedroom after she's discharged from the hospital."

Hearing his father say this, Zhao Tiesheng naturally had nothing to say. Zhao Tiesheng didn't care where they lived, but Cheng Jinxiang had just given birth again and was very weak. That warehouse was too cold and damp, and it was getting colder and colder. If they continued to live there, they might develop a lot of health problems later.

If Cheng Jinxiang develops health problems, that would be a dead end for Zhao Tiesheng. After all, with his wife still alive, he still has a chance to have a son. But without his wife, what son can he possibly have?

Zhao Tiesheng finally confirmed with his father, Zhao Tingxu, and only felt at ease after receiving Zhao Tingxu's assurance.

He helped Zhao Tingxu rub the corn for a while.

The remoteness and backwardness of the North are at least thirty years behind that of the South. Although it is already the 1990s, in remote and backward villages like Dongtaizi Village, people still harvest their grains using very primitive methods, carrying them on their shoulders and by hand. If it is millet or sorghum, they will thresh it in the village courtyard in the autumn.

If it's corn, there's not much you can do; you just have to rub the kernels off one by one. If you could have a hand-cranked corn thresher, that would be extremely advanced equipment.

Zhao Tiesheng reclaimed some land himself, in places prone to flooding or extremely water-scarce. These were places no one wanted, and he planted some corn there.

We sold most of it a while ago, but we still have over 2,000 jin of corn on the cob that we haven't hulled. We also have over 4,000 jin of sorghum planted in the fields, which we haven't processed yet; we still have a lot of work to do.

Zhao Tiesheng helped out until late at night before going to sleep. The next morning, he walked four or five miles to the roadside to wait for a bus, and then took the bus back to the county town to return to the hospital.