Lin Zhen and Song Wei couldn’t care less about Old Man Lin’s regrets.
What was the point of regretting it now?
After returning home, they continued with their lives as usual.
Soon, it was time for the New Year again, and the twins were now eight years old.
Both children were growing up well, but their interests were quite different.
Xiao Nan was drawn to martial pursuits. Every day, Song Wei would do her morning exercises, and when Lin Zhen was home, he would join in, often bringing the two little ones along.
Xiao Nan had inherited a bit of Song Wei’s great strength. Though not as exaggerated as hers, by the age of eight, he could easily lift a hundred pounds. Most importantly, he quickly picked up the physical training techniques taught by Lin Zhen and Song Wei.
Xiao Bei, on the other hand, preferred scholarly pursuits. For him, the morning exercises were just about staying fit. He spent most of his time studying. He loved reading and had a broad range of interests, never limiting himself to just one subject.
Lin Ping’an was now attending junior high in the county town, but with a bicycle at home, it was easy for him to return daily. Whenever he was back, Xiao Bei’s favorite person to pester was his uncle, Lin Ping’an, whom he considered the most educated person in the household.
As for Song Wei, the mother of the family, whatever knowledge she had—whether her own or the original owner’s—had long been returned to her teachers.
On New Year’s Day, the whole family gathered together.
“Mom, ease up on the strength! You’re tearing the dumpling wrappers!”
“Mom, please tell me you didn’t mix the filling this time?”
The twins were utterly exasperated by their mother’s culinary mishaps. When their father wasn’t around, Song Wei would occasionally get inspired to cook something. The results were either bland, burnt, or overwhelmingly seasoned with one flavor. To avoid wasting food, everyone had to grit their teeth and eat it anyway.
So, from a young age, to avoid their mother’s cooking, the twins had taken the initiative to ask their father to teach them how to cook. They’d even settle for making their own noodles. Now, at just eight years old, they were already quite skilled at making dumplings.
Song Wei shot her sons a glare. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mix the filling.”
Only then did the twins breathe a sigh of relief.
“Mom, why don’t you go out and play? Leave the cooking to us!”
With four men in the household, they handled almost all the chores.
Song Wei was more than happy to relax, often taking her animal companions into the mountains to hunt, forage for mushrooms, wild fruits, herbs, and more.
Unlike other families where the man handled outside work and the woman managed the home, their family dynamic was different: the younger ones took care of the household, while the adults handled external matters. Lin Zhen managed both inside and outside affairs, while Song Wei focused on external tasks—mainly sourcing food for the family.
All the women in Ping’an Brigade envied Song Wei to no end. Even though she was a mother of two, she lived with such ease and freedom. Over the years, her appearance seemed unchanged. How could they not envy her? She had a capable husband who doted on her, a sensible brother-in-law, and two loving, thoughtful sons. On top of that, she had no in-laws to pressure her and held the family’s financial reins.
“Dumplings are here!”
A large bowl of dumplings was placed on the table, and the family gathered around, chatting and laughing as they began to eat.
Every New Year, they would joyfully make dumplings together, celebrating a happy and complete family reunion.
“Happy New Year, cheers!”
The adults raised their glasses of wine, while the two little ones held up their juice. Everyone’s face was filled with joy.
…………
Song Wei’s contracted tea plantation was in full swing. Every year, a batch of tea saplings was cultivated, and once they were well-established, they were transplanted to the mountains.
After two or three years of diligent effort, most of the tea plants on the mountain had grown lush and healthy, presenting a neat, vibrant green expanse.
However, it was a bit disappointing that the tea leaves from this plantation weren’t of the same quality as those grown deep in the mountains.
Still, this tea was quite delicious in its own right.
After confirming that this was a previously undiscovered variety of tea, Song Wei named it “Golden Vein Tea,” inspired by the distinctive golden veins on the back of the leaves.
Fortunately, the tea leaves propagated from cuttings also developed these golden veins.
However, the golden veins only appeared on the leaves harvested in spring, so the tea-picking season was fixed for early spring.
In addition to the tea plantation, Song Wei also contracted land to grow goji berries.
Like tea plants, goji berries are perennial, so Song Wei continuously invested money into them without seeing any returns in the short term.
This led many people to secretly mock her, and some even went to Lin Zhen, calling her a spendthrift and urging him to find someone else.
Lin Zhen’s business had grown significantly, and his reputation extended beyond the production team to almost the entire county.
Many people tried to take shortcuts to win his favor.
In the face of profit, pride and dignity often took a back seat.
Business dinners were unavoidable, and whenever someone tried to push women his way, Lin Zhen would bring up Song Wei.
As a result, almost everyone who interacted with Lin Zhen knew he was “henpecked.”
At first, some people didn’t take it seriously and continued to pester him. Then, during one business dinner, Lin Zhen brought Song Wei along.
That day, Song Wei split the table in half—with her bare hands.
The executive who had tried to push a woman onto Lin Zhen right in front of Song Wei ended up with broken ribs and was rushed to the hospital.
Lin Zhen covered the medical expenses.
He also told the man right to his face, “Mr. Jiang, there’s no need for us to collaborate in the future. My wife said if she sees me having anything to do with you again, she’ll break my legs. And she’s not joking—she’ll actually do it. I have no desire to end up in the hospital like you, so let’s consider our partnership terminated.”
From that day on, Song Wei became legendary in Lin Zhen’s business circles, and no one ever dared to introduce women to him again.
With her mission accomplished, Song Wei retreated back to Ping’an Brigade to continue developing her estate.
Once the tea plants and goji berries were well-established, she marked out her territory and began building her own manor.
While hunting was still permitted, she went into the mountains to capture sika deer and naive roe deer to raise.
She didn’t raise pigs, mainly because they were too smelly.
Instead, she suggested that the production team leader’s family start pig farming.
If nothing else, at this stage, raising pigs well was a sure way to make money.
Sure enough, the production team leader’s family quickly recouped their investment and began turning a profit. Within a few years, they even expanded their pig farm.
Others in Ping’an Brigade followed their example, and the more daring began raising poultry like chickens and ducks.
Song Wei’s sika deer and naive roe deer were unique to her estate. She also cultivated many varieties of fruit and later started beekeeping.
Time flew by, and the first batch of tea leaves was finally ready for harvesting.
Before the harvest began, Song Wei held a ceremonial ritual with the villagers to pay respects to the mountain god and the tea god.
Whether these gods existed or not, it never hurt to show respect.
After the ceremony, the harvesting of Golden Vein Tea officially began.
The tea leaves were inspected and paid for by weight.
Picking tea was a task suitable for both the elderly and children. Those who lacked the means to find work outside the brigade relied on the tea plantation for income.
During the early spring tea-picking season, virtually everyone in the brigade, young and old, joined in the effort.
The task of processing the tea leaves fell to Song Wei herself and Uncle Dayou’s family. Song Wei paid them a monthly wage of one thousand yuan, which would increase as prices rose over time.
They were, in a way, making a living with their skills.
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