The brigade office fell into complete silence.
By now, most of the men seated around the long wooden table had already been swayed by Liu Zhenshen's reasoning and Chen Deshun's hard-earned instincts. After all our was true that old peasants often understood calamity long before officials wrote it in reports.
Yet no one dared speak after seeing Gao Tielin's face. His expression had darkened so thoroughly that even the soft sunlight frok the window seemed unable to soften it.
The room understood enough to stay quiet. But Li Changde understood far more, he narrowed his sharp, fox-like eyes and immediately sensed the shift in Gao Tielin's mood.
Secretary Gao was not a man who forgot humiliation. He carried grudges like old debts carved into bamboo slips.
He favored those who bowed to his authority, but those who openly questioned him, were remembered.
Liu Zhenshen had spoken too boldly and Chen Deshun had pushed too far.
Even if Gao Tielin remained silent today, Li Changde knew such insults would one day be repaid.
And then a thought struck him. This was his moment.
If he stepped forward and stood with Gao Tielin, he might immediately enter his favor. And if fortune tilted slightly more in his direction, perhaps during the next committee reshuffle the position of brigade leader might no longer remain impossible.
His gaze sharpened and like a merchant spotting silver beneath mud he straightened his back and finally spoke, "Ridiculous."
Several heads turned, "Who makes such decisions based on speculations? Tomorrow planting begins. Seed stores have already been organized. Labor teams have been assigned. Oxen have been rented from neighbouring villag. Furrows have been ploughed. And now, because of speculation and fearful guessing, are we to overturn all preparations overnight?"
"No. I refuse." His voice grew lower, "Changing crops is not like changing shoes at the market. The wheat fields have already been prepared. Furrows laid straight. Soil turned. Work brigades divided by manpower. Water quotas calculated. Every household has already arranged labor according to the wheat schedule. If we reverse course now, all that labor will be wasted."
Several committee members shifted uneasily because the argument was hard to dismiss.
Then Li Changde delivered the point he knew would strike deepest, "And more importantly, how will we face the villagers? We are already one of the poorest communes in this county. The little money our people earn comes after selling wheat quota to state."
He looked toward Chen Deshun, "Villagers do not cling to wheat because they love white flour. They sell wheat because wheat brings more money."
That truth landed heavily.
"Our people tighten their belts, eat coarse grains, and work through frost so they can harvest more wheat, sell more, and buy enough cheaper grain to survive the year."
He narrowed his eyes, "And now you want to replace that with sweet potatoes and Chinese cabbage?"
The room fell quiet again, this time, thoughtful. Even those starting to lean towards Chen Deshun could not deny the cruel practicality.
At that moment, Gao Tielin who had been nearly cornered lifted his head, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He gave a slow nod, "Exactly." His voice had regained strength, "That money matters. But with your sweet potatoes, how much do you think the grain collection station will pay?"
"Will county granaries treat sweet potatoes like wheat?" He scoffed. Then, glaring directly at Chen Deshun, he struck the final blow, "Villagers will be outraged, and you will be responsible."
Liu Zhenshen's chest rose sharply.
For a fleeting moment, he wanted nothing more than to crack Gao Tielin's skull against the edge of the heavy wooden table and see whether a brain truly sat inside, or only rotten straw and blind ambition.
His jaw clenched, then his sharp gaze shifted first to Li Changde. For the first time, the usually composed Liu Zhenshen's voice carried naked contempt, "Li Changde, I know exactly what you are trying to do. But this is neither the place nor the time for petty tricks. We are discussing lives."
Then he slowly turned toward Gao Tielin, "Secretary Gao asks how villagers will survive without wheat money. Then I will answer. If wheat fails what money will villagers earn?"
"If the drought continues, if winter deepens, than what? Wheat is proud grain, it demands stable moisture and nourishment. But sweet potatoes endure poor soil and less water. Chinese cabbage grows faster, and soybean survives harsher weather, it can still be salvaged."
He than turned toward the room, "You ask what grain stations will pay? I ask what grain stations will collect from dead fields?"
Several men visibly stiffened.
Liu Zhenshen did not stop, "You speak of earnings, but if wheat fails, villagers will not be buying cloth during new year, but will be boiling bark. They will not be discussing the title, they will be digging frozen roots."
"If wheat fails, grain stations may still demand quotas and we will be forced to submit grain from our reserves, and once reserves are emptied? What then? Do we grind copper coins into flour?"
The office became deathly still.
"If we plant survival crops now, we may earn less, but villagers live. If we chase wheat and fail, we may preserve pride, may satisfy county expectations and may even submit one final glorious quota."
But next summer we may be counting corpses instead of grain."
A chill swept through the office. The committee members were pale.
Not because Liu Zhenshen had spoken emotionally. But because everything he said was painfully practical.
Brigade Leader Shu, who had remained cautious throughout the argument, slowly rose on his chair and cleared his throat.
"This old one agrees." He avoided Gao Tielin's face and continued anyway. "If there is even half a chance of crop failure, it is wiser to secure food before profit."
Another committee elder nodded.
Then another.
Soon murmurs spread.
"Yes…"
"Liu Zhenshen is right…"
"Survival first…"
"Profit can return next year…"
Even some who had feared Gao Tielin now dared to speak and the balance finally broke.
Li Changde slowly exhaled gritting his teeth but couldn't come up with anything more and sat in silence.
Seeing the shifting tides Chen Deshun nodded and said, "Then it is decided, starting tomorrow, wheat acreage will be reduced. Emergency crop conversion begins immediately. Sweet potatoes, soybeans, and Chinese cabbage will be prioritized."
He turned sharply, "All production team leaders, gather your teams at once. Bring everyone to the grounds, an emergency village meeting will be held before dusk, the changes will be announced immediately."
Chairs scraped and boots moved immediately. One by one, the committee members left. Li Changde hesitated for a moment but now he couldn't just sit here so he also walked out.
At last only Gao Tielin remained. His face was no longer merely angry, it had turned pale with fear and breathing became uneven.
For almost a month he had built this carefully. Unlike peasants who saw only fields, Gao Tielin had always seen ladders.
He had submitted extra grain during the summer quota and had deliberately highlighted Shitou Village's efficiency. He had revealed the large reserves and had reassured county cadres that the commune could deliver exceptional future yields, only so he could promot himself and that had always been the true horizon in his eyes.
He had long coveted a county position, proximity to higher officials. And eventually access to men above them like Mayor Chen.
He still remembered that meeting a few days ago in the county office. Mayor Chen, a scholarly man, calm and polished, wearing rimmed spectacles and a dark Zhongshan suit had spoken with measured courtesy.
Though Gao Tielin had been nothing more than a commune secretary, he had felt it.
He had left an impression.
The mayor had personally discussed grain incentives, village development and resource allocation.
Just a few more successful reports, a few more meetings, more visible achievements, he could move upward.
But now Chen Deshun and Liu Zhenshen had overturned everything.
Now if county expectations were broken, his road upward might shatter before it even opened.
His hands trembled then slowly tightened. His pale face hardened and fear curdled into resentment.
"Chen Deshun, Liu Zhenshen…" His jaw clenched, "I will not let either of you off so easily this time."
Meanwhile, in the county militia barracks, Gu Zhenhua sat behind a heavy wooden desk in his chember, reviewing a stack of reports.
His dark green military tunic was immaculate as his fingers moved steadily across the reports,
Then a firm, measured rap against the wooden door sounded outside. Without lifting his head, Gu Zhenhua said flatly, "Enter."
The door opened immediately and He Jianci stepped inside. He halted three paces from the desk, stood upright like a drawn spear, and delivered a crisp military salute.
"Deputy Company Commander Gu."
Only then did Gu Zhenhua slowly lift his eyes from the papers. His gaze was sharp, restrained.
"Any intelligence?"
He Jianci lowered his hand, "Yes, Deputy Company Commander. Battalion Commander Zhang's informants have uncovered unusual movement linked to the suspected bandit organization."
He Jianci continued, "The group has been recruiting able-bodied men in large numbers. Especially from rural villages."
That made Gu Zhenhua's fingers still.
He Jianci spoke without hesitation, "They are specifically targeting young village men who are poor, desperate, and eager for urban household registration."
At that, Gu Zhenhua's eyes sharpened almost imperceptibly.
In these hard years, an urban household registration was not merely a document for villagers it was stability, work-unit protection and a path out of poverty. A dream many peasants would willingly bleed for.
He Jianci's voice darkened, "They are using that desire as bait. Promising employment and advancement under the name of the People's Liberation Army."
The chamber turned still.
Gu Zhenhua rose with he scrape of his chair, "They are recruiting in the PLA's name?" His tone remained level, yet the coldness beneath it was unmistakable.
"Yes, Deputy Company Commander." He Jianci nodded, "The operation is discreet. Mostly by word of mouth. No open gatherings. No visible records."
Gu Zhenhua walked toward the wall map. His hands folded behind his back. His expression remained unreadable, but his eyes hardened.
Bandits stealing grain truck, trafficking arms across borders was not unusual. But men who dared impersonate the People's Liberation Army, that was no longer simple criminal greed but rot and subversion.
His gaze remained fixed on the map, "Any confirmed location?"
He Jianci shook his head, "No, Deputy Company Commander. After last night's western mountain operation was disrupted, the group appears to have detected our surveillance."
Gu Zhenhua's eyes narrowed.
He Jianci continued, "They abandoned their previous location and have gone deep into hiding."
Gu Zhenhua understood the mistake clearly. Last night, after receiving intelligence that the bandit group had gathered somewhere in the western mountains, he had moved under the pretense of a military field exercise. It had been carefully arranged with minimal exposure and high probability of interception, but then gunfire had erupted.
Mistaking it for bandit activity, he had redirected his men immediately, only later had he learned the truth. It had merely been a gang clash.
At first, he had suspected they might still be linked, perhaps smugglers or suppliers. But after a full inquiry, the answer had been disappointing.
His entire night operation had dissolved into wasted movement. And while he had lost time, the enemy had not.
Gu Zhenhua returned to his chair and sat. He gave a small nod, "Continue."
"Yes, Deputy Company Commander." He Jianci's voice lowered, "The border security forces near the Soviet frontier have reported suspicious movement. Based on route analysis and supply patterns, we suspect it may be the same organization. They appear to be gathering resources, food, transport equipment, and arms in unusually large quantities. There is also a high probability they have already begun infiltrating mining sites or are preparing to do so."
Gu Zhenhua leaned back slightly. His expression did not shift. But behind his stillness, calculations moved rapidly.
Their pursuit had been too slow and too reactive. The enemy was moving with discipline.
By now he understood one thing, this was no just hill-bandit gang. Something larger hid in the shadows.
He slowly closed his eyes, then after some time he opened them again. This time, clarity had settled within them like sharpened steel.
He spoke, "Are preparations complete for transfer to Shitou Village?"
He Jianci answered immediately, "Yes, Deputy Company Commander. We await only your final order. The mayor has personally arranged logistical clearance. He has informed us that relocation may begin at any time."
Gu Zhenhua gave a slight nod. Then he asked, "What about Li Guoqiang?"
At that, He Jianci reached into the inner pocket of his uniform and withdrew a folded telegraph slip, "This arrived through the Public Security Bureau."
He stepped forward with both hands and presented it respectfully, "It was forwarded by Regimental Commander He."
Gu Zhenhua accepted it.
His fingers unfolded the stiff telegraph paper slowly.
He gave the faint dismissal nod. He Jianci immediately straightened, raised his hand in a crisp salute, "Yes, Deputy Company Commander." Then he turned sharply and left the chamber.
The telegraph slip was astonishingly brief. Only two pieces of information had been tapped across the line, time, and train number.
Yet that was enough. So Li Guoqiang had already arrived.
Without a word, he folded the telegram neatly along its original crease and placed it on the table.
Then he leaned back into his chair, one hand resting lightly against the wooden armrest, his expression remained calm, almost detached.
But behind that stillness, his mind had already advanced several moves ahead.
The next course of action had become clear.
He would first relocate his unit into Shitou Village. From there, they would begin quietly penetrating the deep mountain forests behind the village, no loud patrols, no large troop movement, no visible military sweep that might alert whoever was hiding there.
After hearing He Jianci's intelligence report, one conclusion had become impossible to ignore. The bandit organization was almost certainly concealed somewhere within those mountains.
The reasoning was simple.
The mountain range behind Shitou Village stretched endlessly like a dark spine across the earth. Dense forests swallowed the slopes, ancient pine, cedar, thorn undergrowth, deep ravines, fractured stone ledges, and hunting trails so old and narrow that even experienced woodcutters avoided them after dusk. When winter mist descended, the entire range could vanish beneath white fog.
It was the perfect refuge, but concealment alone was not the true reason. Beyond those mountain ridges lay the mining districts.
If the bandits were truly gathering arms, infiltrating labor networks, or keeping watch on mining activity, then no location could serve them better than those forests. From the mountains, they could observe routes, move undetected, strike when necessary, and disappear before anyone realized they had been there.
Gu Zhenhua's fingers tapped once against the armrest. The problem was equally clear. The mountains were simply too large. And he only had sixteen soldiers.
Sixteen soilders were only enough to launch a strike, guard a route, or close in on a target. But searching miles upon miles of forested mountain terrain? That was another matter entirely.
Even if he divided them into scouting units, the risk would be severe, men becoming isolated, losing communication, walking into traps, or exposing their movements before finding anything. Therefore a direct sweep with such a small team would fail.
Meanwhile, in Shitou Village, peace lasted only for a while.
The moment Chen Deshun publicly announced the crop changes, outrage burst through the village.
The village threshing ground, quickly dissolved into heated disorder.
"What kind of decision is this?"
"We already prepared the wheat fields!"
"Who takes responsibility if this ruins the harvest?"
"Can sweet potatoes earn us enough money?"
"Are we supposed to live like beggars, gnawing roots and cabbage?"
For a tense moment, the crowd nearly tipped into chaos.
But Chen Deshun and Liu Zhenshen acted quickly. Together, they managed to pull the situation back before it fractured beyond control.
Chen Deshun stood at the center of the square like. His weathered face remained stern, his authority alone preventing the gathering from descending into open disorder.
Beside him, Liu Zhenshen stepped forward.
Among the common villagers, his words often carried more trust than official committee talk.
This time, he did not speak in slogans. He did not invoke production targets. He spoke only of memory.
His voice was steady as he reminded them of the possibility of failed harvests, uncertain rain, and what happened when people trusted only a single crop. But he did not dare to mantion the famine.
At first, many resisted. Then the older villagers began to fall silent and their expressions changed.
They remembered the severe drought in the years of the 1940s when fields split open like cracked pottery beneath drought. Children crying until their voices grew hoarse. Roots dug from frozen soil. Tree bark boiled into bitter broth. Families trading their blood for a handful of millet. Deaths that came without warning and left no sound behind.
That kind of hunger did not disappear but lived in bone and memory.
Gradually, the elders softened. One by one, they began nodding. Support spread quietly among them.
But the younger generation remained unconvinced. They had not survived those same years. To them, wheat was more than grain, it was money and security.
After long arguing, repeated objections, and heated debate among the villagers, Chen Deshun finally altered the original decision.
His compromise was practical and difficult to oppose. Every household would divide its cultivable land. Half would remain for wheat planting. The other half would be shifted toward survival crops.
At the same time, any household that wished to dedicate land entirely to survival crops would be permitted to do so without restriction.
But one rule remained absolute. Every family, without exception, had to plant survival crops. And all households were ordered to store preserved food in large quantities as reserve against winter hardship and possible failure before the next harvest.
The decision still stirred criticism as mutters moved through the crowd. Several younger men cursed under their breath thinking about the half wasted land.
But when they saw Chen Deshun's unshakable stance and saw the village elders publicly approving the change the resistance gradually lost force.
No one wanted to challenge both the committee and the elders at once. So the anger remained but only behind clenched teeth.
Within the crowd, Li Shuying stood quietly among a cluster of village women.
She exhaled a slow, trembling breath she had not realized she had been holding all this time.
The tightness in her chest eased slightly, though her fingers remained hidden inside her sleeves, still curled from nervous restraint.
She had not dared expect this much, when she had first planned, she had only hoped to nudge events, just enough to tilt fate by a single inch. Even then, uncertainty had followed every step she took. But she had never been certain whether anything would truly change.
Yet now, hearing Chen Deshun's final order, she knew, it had worked.
The decision had changed and the path ahead had shifted.
Her lashes lowered slightly, but her eyes reddened from emotion she had been suppressing for far too long. Her gaze moved slowly across the villagers before her.
This time they could survive.
Since her rebirth, this had been one of the burdens that had weighed heavily on her heart.
Saving her own family had always been her first battle.
And another one was of changing the villagers tragic fate. Protecting them from hunger, and ruin.
A line of poetry from her previous life surfaced quietly in her mind. 'Though battered a thousand times, it remains unbroken; the will of man can still contend against Heaven.'
Her lips tightened faintly. In her previous life, she had once read that line and admired it only as poetry. Now, she understood it.
Fate was not unshakable. Even Heaven's design could be resisted, if one dared to move first.
Not far from her, Zhao Hongmei stood frozen in place. Unlike Li Shuying's quiet relief, Zhao Hongmei's face was clouded with disbelief.
Her brows furrowed deeply, "What is happening…?" The words slipped from her lips in a near-whisper.
This was wrong.
This had never happened in her previous life. Back then, the entire village had planted wheat. There had been no sudden compromise.
The fields had been filled almost entirely with wheat, and when the wheat failed famine had descended like a merciless northern storm.
She remembered it vividly and those memories had shaped every decision she had made since rebirth.
It was why she had not trusted fate.
While others had moved through life blindly, she had been preparing in secret. Using the protagonist halo points granted by her mysterious system tasks, she had steadily increased her luck and charm.
And relying on that unnatural fortune, she had gathered resources little by little. Wild vegetables hidden in mountain, seasonal berries, medicinal roots, chestnuts, Rabbits, Wild pheasants.
Anything edible, useful and which could sustain life was collected by her. She had also quietly stolen hidden grain that Wang Chunhua had stored in secret.
No one had discovered it yet because everyone ate at the communal canteen.
And with her unnatural charm subtly influencing foolish village boys eager to please her, she had manipulated them into helping her collect extra supplies, firewood, and food without raising suspicion.
Everything had been proceeding exactly according to her plans.
Yet today one village meeting had unsettled all of it. The solution had come too easily and that frightened her.
Her gaze shifted toward Liu Zhenshen, who was still speaking to several production team leaders near the square and her expression tightened.
The way he had spoken earlier… there had been certainty in his voice. It was not a random caution but certainty. That was what disturbed her most.
No village cadre would take such a firm stance, alter planting decisions, challenge labor expectations, and risk public dissatisfaction based on mere speculation.
Especially not in this era, when grain output and collective responsibility were matters no one treated lightly.
This had not looked like guessing, it had looked like preparation. As though he already knew difficult days were coming.
Zhao Hongmei swallowed hard. A sudden chill crawled down her spine, colder than the winter wind.
Then a thought struck her like a hammer.
Could someone else have been reborn? Her breathing hitched slightly and eyes widened.
Could Liu Zhenshen also have reborn?
But almost immediately, another possibility surfaced.
Li Shuying?
The changes had started with her. At first, Zhao Hongmei had ignored them. Now she could not. The girl had changed too much.
Only a few weeks ago, Li Shuying had been timid to the bone. At the mere sound of Wang Chunhua's footsteps, she used to shrink away like a frightened rabbit.
Yet now she dared to disobey Wang Chunhua openly. She challenged her in small but unmistakable ways.
Then there was her condescending attitude towards the entire Li family as if some daughter of land lord, and her sudden haughtyness towards her.
That was not a small change but complete transformation.
Zhao Hongmei's eyes narrowed and her pulse thudded harder.
Could it be…?