Chapter 261 Uncle Jiu Becomes Clan Leader
At the same time.
Thatchfield Village.
Deng Shirong handed the heavy sack in his hand to his nephew and son-in-law and said, "Ah Hu, this bag has pork, braised pork, squid, sandworms, vermicelli, fungus, brown sugar, red dates, melon seeds, and candy cakes, all packed separately. Take them back for the New Year."
Jiang Dehu took the sack and thanked him with a smile. "Thank you, Uncle!"
Deng Shirong pulled out a thick red envelope from his pocket—inside were thirty big unity notes—and handed it to his niece. "Dafang, you and Ah Hu worked hard this year. This is your New Year's red envelope from your uncle."
This year, his niece and her husband had diligently helped him manage the orchard, leading to a bumper harvest of lychees and watermelons that sold for over 6,000 yuan.
Originally, Deng Shirong had hoped to guide the couple toward greater earnings so they could live more comfortably. But they lacked ambition, content with just tending the orchard and earning a few dozen yuan a month.
Since that was the case, Deng Shirong wouldn't force them—but he wouldn't treat them unfairly either.
Bu Dafang didn't refuse. She took the red envelope happily. "Thank you, Uncle!"
Deng Yuntai said, "Cousin, cousin-in-law, it's a long walk back. Let Azhen and I take you home!"
"Alright, Uncle. Then we'll head back first!"
"Go ahead!"
...
A little over forty minutes later, Bu Dafang and Jiang Dehu arrived home.
As soon as they got off the bike, Bu Dafang called out, "Cousin, cousin, come in and sit for a while."
Deng Yuntai smiled. "No need, cousin. We'll head back now."
Jiang Dehu added, "You rarely visit. At least stay for a meal before leaving."
Deng Yunzhen also smiled. "Brother-in-law, no need to trouble yourselves. You haven't been home in a while—you must have a lot to do. We'll just say hello to the kids and go."
As they spoke, the family inside heard the commotion and came out.
Jiang's father, Jiang's mother, Jiang's elder brother, Jiang's elder sister-in-law, Jiang's younger sister, and Bu Dafang's two children all stepped outside.
Jiang Dehu quickly introduced them. "Dad, Mom, big brother, sister-in-law, little sister, this is the eldest cousin from Afang's uncle's family. They biked us back."
After exchanging greetings, Jiang's mother warmly urged, "Cousin, come inside and warm up by the fire."
She used to look down on Bu Dafang, her second daughter-in-law. But ever since Bu Dafang took her second son to help manage her uncle's orchard—and later gave her youngest daughter ten yuan a month to help with the kids—her attitude had gradually softened.
After all, whether now or in the future, those who could make money naturally earned respect at home.
And as for the cousins in front of her, she more or less knew their family's standing. This was a rare opportunity, so she naturally had to be hospitable.
Deng Yuntai and Deng Yunzhen politely declined. After a few more courteous words, the siblings rode off on their bicycles.
Once the guests left, Jiang Dasao couldn't help asking, "Dafang, what's in that big sack?"
Bu Dafang smiled. "New Year's goods from my uncle. I'll share some with you later."
"How can I accept that?"
Jiang Dasao's words were modest, but her eyes never left the sack. She was dying to see what lavish treats her wealthy uncle had sent—the sack was stuffed full.
After replying, Bu Dafang carried the sack to her room and said to her sister-in-law, "Ah Feng, come in with me. I have something to tell you."
Jiang Defeng nodded and followed her second sister-in-law inside.
The two children had already been taken out to play by their father.
Once inside, Bu Dafang set the sack aside, then pulled out twenty yuan from her pocket and handed it to her sister-in-law. "Ah Feng, take this. Ten yuan is for the kids, and the other ten is for you to spend during the New Year."
Jiang Defeng hesitated. "Second sister-in-law, ten yuan is enough."
Bu Dafang pressed the money into her hand. "Take it. I know the ten yuan I give you every month doesn't actually stay with you. Don't tell your parents about this extra ten. Keep it for yourself—you're a grown girl. How can you manage without any money of your own?"
In this family, only this sister-in-law was decent. The rest… well, as long as they maintained surface harmony, that was enough.
Seeing her insistence, Jiang Defeng accepted the money. "Thank you, second sister-in-law."
Then, Bu Dafang asked after the children.
The two sisters-in-law chatted for over ten minutes before Bu Dafang opened the sack and took out some New Year's goods for her sister-in-law to bring to her mother-in-law, as well as a portion for her sister-in-law herself.
Of course, she only gave away things like pork, vermicelli, fungus, red dates, melon seeds, and candy cakes. She wasn't foolish enough to part with premium items like sandworms and squid—she kept all the braised pork and brown sugar for herself.
Even so, these gifts were impressive. Jiang Dasao's grin was uncontrollable as she received them.
...
In the blink of an eye, it was New Year's Eve.
That morning, every household in Thatchfield Village began slaughtering chickens for the celebration.
In previous years, not every family could afford to kill a chicken for New Year's Eve.
After all, if you slaughtered one for the eve, what would you serve when relatives visited on the second day of the New Year?
Back then, families raised few chickens—mostly hens kept for eggs. Killing even one was painful enough. Who would slaughter two?
So in past years, many families would wait until the second day of the Lunar New Year, when guests arrived, to kill a chicken—just to save face in front of relatives.
But with policy relaxations in recent years, households now raised several times more chickens and ducks than before. For most families in the village, slaughtering a chicken for New Year's Eve was no longer a hardship.
Deng Shirong's family hadn't raised chickens or ducks originally. But this time, thanks to his early warning, all the oxen in the Help And Correct Brigade remained unharmed, and many families avoided planting sweet potatoes—saving them from major losses.
Therefore, the villagers, deeply grateful to Deng Shirong, sent him many local specialties—plenty of them even brought chickens or ducks.
As a result, even though Deng Shirong's family didn't raise poultry, they ended up with more chickens and ducks than they could eat this year.
After paying respects to Grandfather, Deng Shirong took charge of cooking while Deng Yunzhen assisted. Deng Yuntai and Deng Yunzhu put up Spring Festival couplets, Zhang Xiuping bathed Little Dong'er, and Deng Yunsong, Deng Yunhua, Deng Yunheng, and the others busied themselves washing up and changing into new clothes.
Around 1 PM, the family's New Year's Eve feast began.
Before eating, Deng Shirong, as the head of the household, naturally had to say a few words:
"This year has been smooth for our family. The big restaurant in the county town is now open, business is decent, and it should only improve from here.
As for studies, Xiaosong has consistently ranked first in his grade. If he keeps it up through the high school entrance exams, he'll easily get into either a technical secondary school or the city's best high school.
Xiaoheng is also doing well, always near the top of his class.
This year's successes are set. I hope everyone keeps working hard next year to make our family even more prosperous."
Little Dong'er, cradled in her mother's arms, chirped, "Prosperous!"
The family burst into laughter, and the New Year's Eve dinner officially began amid the joyous mood.
In later years, no family would lack food and drink during the New Year—what would be missing were drinking buddies to share the merriment.
So in future Thatchfield Village, it'd be common for people to hop between homes during New Year's Eve feasts, drinking a few cups here and there, settling wherever the atmosphere was liveliest until they were thoroughly satisfied.
But in this era, no one would dream of gatecrashing another family's New Year's Eve dinner. Though life had improved slightly these past two years, most households were still poor. Who'd dare impose on others for a drink?
During the meal, Deng Yuntai, Zhang Xiuping, and Deng Yunzhen drank generously with their father.
As for Deng Yunzhu and the younger ones, though they longed to join, Deng Shirong wouldn't allow it—they weren't adults yet. They had to make do with soft drinks instead.
The feast wrapped up around 3 PM.
Gathered around the hearth again, Deng Shirong handed out red envelopes and announced, "Be ready tonight. CCTV is airing its first-ever Spring Festival Gala—a special program to ring in the New Year with the nation. It should be quite entertaining."
Deng Yunzhen asked, "Dad, what's a Spring Festival Gala?"
The others looked equally clueless. In the future, everyone would know, but at this time, the concept was entirely unfamiliar—no one could imagine what such a gala might entail.
Deng Shirong smiled. "Probably singing, dancing, skits, crosstalk, and drama performances. I'm not sure of the details. We'll find out tonight."
Hearing this, the children and in-laws grew eager. If nothing else, the promise of singing and dancing alone was enough to excite them.
...
By 5 or 6 PM, villagers began arriving with stools in hand to watch TV.
The first to show up were the families of Ou Guofang, Ou Guohua, and Guan Yongying. After hearing from her father-in-law about the upcoming Spring Festival Gala, Zhang Xiuping had tipped off her sisters to come early and secure good spots.
A placed stool was enough to reserve seating—no need to occupy it nonstop.
So when the villagers arrived, they first huddled around Deng Shirong's hearth to warm up and chat. They'd move to the TV area once the broadcast started.
During casual conversation, someone asked, "Uncle Jiu, when do you think the cold will let up?"
Others echoed the question, equally eager for the unseasonable frost to end.
Deng Shirong said, "I can't say exactly, but I'd guess temperatures will gradually rise after spring."
Deng Yunkun fretted, "We ordered lychee saplings from Lingshan County last June and July. Who knows if they've frozen to death in this weather? Besides, it's no time for planting—we'll have to wait for warmer days."
Among Thatchfield Village's most honest folk, Deng Yunkun and two others had helped Deng Shirong clear his orchard.
This year, after seeing Uncle Jiu and Deng Yunqiang's lychees fetch astounding sums, the entire village rushed to follow suit. Deng Yunkun, not one to lag behind, had joined others in ordering saplings.
Notably, though brigade leader Deng Yunjun and others had acted earlier, reclaiming land took months. By the time they sought credit union loans, some originally eager villagers got cold feet.
After more discussion, they decided to wait—better to see how Uncle Jiu (Gong) and Deng Yunqiang's lychees fared before borrowing for saplings.
This left them both regretful and relieved.
Regretful, because Uncle Jiu (Gong) and Deng Yunqiang's lychees had yielded over a thousand yuan—a staggering sum. They kicked themselves for not planting sooner.
Yet the unprecedented frost also made them thankful. Had they planted this year, the vulnerable saplings might've died, costing them dearly.
So those who'd hesitated now boasted of their foresight (though not too loudly).
By mid-year, the whole village had sent envoys to Lingshan County, ordering enough saplings for spring planting.
But now, with this extreme weather, they worried—had Lingshan County been hit too?
Deng Shirong reassured them, "Don't worry. Fresh Light Farm has experts. Even if the cold struck there, they'd protect the trees and nurture the saplings.
Come spring, send someone to discuss delaying the sapling delivery. They'll understand."
Deng Yunkun sighed in relief. "Good. As long as the saplings are safe, we can plant once it warms up."
The conversation shifted from crops to grim news—how some communes had lost not just oxen, but people to the cold.
"I heard at my uncle's place. That family was poor, with only thin quilts. In past winters, they scraped by. This year, the cold plus illness—it was too much. He didn't make it."
"Ah, such things were common decades back. Every village saw starvation and freezing deaths then. Rare in recent years, though."
"Being sick did it. Healthy, he'd have survived."
"This year's weather is truly bizarre..."
As the talk turned to frozen deaths, Deng Shirong found it unsurprising.
Though living standards had improved compared to the past, many families remained impoverished. In terms of basic necessities—food, clothing, shelter, and transportation—the only consolation was having full stomachs, no longer facing starvation like in the harsher times before.
But clothing, housing, and travel were still severe hardships.
Take clothing first. A local rhyme summed it up: "Three taels of rice for morning and night, three feet of cloth for pants and jacket."
This meant three taels of rice could stretch through a day's meals, and three feet of cloth barely made one outfit.
It was common for patched clothes to have more mended fabric than original material when families couldn't afford new cloth.
As for housing, most rural folk lived in mud-brick homes, while the poorest still dwelled in thatched huts—conditions far from comfortable.
Many families' straw mats had nearly rotted through, yet they couldn't afford replacements. They resorted to lining beds with newspapers and slept bundled in thin quilts, too cold to remove their padded layers.
Travel? Even simpler. In this era, bicycles were luxuries in rural Bobai. Only relatively well-off households owned them—most people walked everywhere.
Well into the 1990s, many Thatchfield families would still struggle.
But in this lifetime, Deng Shirong's influence promised drastic change. Once villagers planted their Cinnamon Flavor lychees next year, the orchard income alone could lift them from poverty.
Soon, more villagers arrived to watch TV.
Since it was New Year's Eve, Deng Shirong tuned the set to CCTV early instead of waiting until 6:30 PM, letting everyone enjoy the broadcast sooner.
Notably, even Help And Correct Brigade's Party Secretary Deng Shian came to watch tonight.
Currently, only Secretary Deng Shian's prestige in the brigade rivaled Deng Shirong's.
Though peers, Deng Shian was over sixty—more than a decade older—and had served as secretary for years. He was also clan leader of the Thatchfield Deng family (locally termed "clan head"), so his standing was undisputed.
In Deng Shirong's past life, his influence paled next to the old man's. Only after his rebirth—achieving far more and giving timely warnings that minimized losses this year—did his reputation rise to match, even threaten to surpass, Deng Shian's.
"Secretary!"
"Happy New Year, Secretary!"
"Secretary, there's a seat here!"
Greetings poured out as the secretary arrived.
Deng Shian nodded. "You all watch first. I'll warm myself by the fire and join later."
The hearth burned inside the house—a practice that would blacken ceilings in modern homes. But with tiled roofs here, smoke posed no issue. Indoors, the fire stayed shielded from wind, avoiding the "scorching front, freezing back" problem of outdoor pits.
While others watched TV, Deng Shirong alone warmed himself inside.
Deng Shian joined him and, after some chat, posed a startling question: "Old Jiu, have you considered becoming brigade secretary?"
Deng Shirong blinked. "Secretary, why ask? Aren't you doing well in the role?"
Deng Shian sighed. "I'm past sixty now, health failing by the day. One morning, I might not wake up. Without a proper successor, I'd have to endure a few more years. But with someone like you here—if you're willing, I'll recommend you to the commune leaders and pass you the position."
Deng Shirong waved him off. "Secretary, I'm flattered, but I'm unfit for the role. Please keep serving a while longer!"
Deng Shian pressed, "What's unfit? The brigade respects you. You're generous, eager to lead everyone to prosperity. In all Help And Correct Brigade, no one's more suitable."
Deng Shirong explained, "The issue is, as secretary, you become a state cadre—restricted in ways I can't accept. I'd lose the freedom I have now. I truly don't want the position."
Seeing his resolve, Deng Shian sighed. "Fine, if you refuse the secretary role, so be it. But you can't decline becoming Thatchfield Deng clan's leader."
"This..."
Deng Shian cut in, "Old Jiu, enough. Who else in our Thatchfield Deng family qualifies if not you?"
Deng Shirong grimaced. "Secretary, you're really forcing my hand!"
Deng Shian chuckled. "No choice—you're the only suitable one. If I pushed someone else, they'd never command respect!"
This was truth. Clan leaders were chosen from the most respected elders. Without sufficient standing, the title brought only mockery, no authority.
Since the role was largely ceremonial anyway, Deng Shirong relented. "Alright, I'll accept."
Delighted, Deng Shian said, "With you leading our Thatchfield Deng clan, we'll thrive. After New Year's, I'll gather the clan to formalize it. Given your standing, everyone will approve—no objections."
(End of Chapter)