Chapter 430: The Chengjin Trip (Part 2)

Wu Ying personally wielded the shovel to clear the overgrown grave, refusing help from Meng Ning and the others. Zhu Xiaoyong and Hou Weidong stepped back, finding a spot near a pile of loose rocks to smoke.

Having witnessed Zhu Xiaoyong’s capabilities during the incident at the Muslim restaurant, Hou Weidong looked at him with new respect. "Brother Zhu, I didn't realize you were so capable."

Zhu Xiaoyong, who was also quite articulate, replied, "The idea that scholars are physically weak is a prejudice. The Six Arts—ritual, music, archery, charioteering, calligraphy, and mathematics—were designed to cultivate well-rounded individuals in both civil and martial arts. I wouldn't dare claim to be a master of both, but I am certainly not a bookworm."

"Which bookworm would dare to drive alone to Tibet?"

When they had first arrived in Shazhou, Zhu Xiaoyong had stayed in the shadows of Liu Mingming and Shen Hao, appearing somewhat dull. But now, Hou Weidong saw him differently. Zhu was lean but fit, his thinness carrying strength, and his eyes were dark and bright as lacquer.

Hou Weidong thought to himself, Meng Ning is the daughter of a Provincial Party Secretary; her judgment is indeed sharp. Zhu Xiaoyong is intelligent and capable of action. He is someone to watch. With Meng Hao Fang backing him, he is certainly no ordinary fish in the pond.

With this realization, his view of Meng Ning, who was helping her mother tidy the grave, also shifted. At first glance, Meng Ning was neither particularly beautiful nor striking. If she did not bear the Meng surname, she would likely be perceived as quite ordinary. However, she treated people with calmness and handled matters with detachment, possessing a natural亲和力 (affinity). This is the most interesting pair of 'princelings,' Hou Weidong concluded.

Wu Ying, unused to physical labor, had only cleared half the weeds when a blister formed on her palm. Her back ached, and sweat beaded on her forehead. She said to Meng Ning, "I'm getting old. These tasks used to be child's play for me on the mountain."

"Mama, let me help you shovel," Meng Ning offered.

Wu Ying handed her the shovel. "That’s fine. Help Uncle Xiang clear a bit. Although he loved fighting, he was actually very particular about cleanliness. Back when we were washing clothes, he would always sneak his dirty laundry into our basins when we weren't looking."

Looking back at the weathered tombstone, she thought, In Xiang Yong’s heart, I will always be a girl of seventeen or eighteen. But people must age. People must die.

Meng Ning had heard fragments of Xiang Yong’s story in her childhood. Over the years, with the family always busy, the events of twenty years prior were rarely mentioned. Looking at the neat, fair cursive characters on the tombstone—Tomb of Educated Youth Xiang Yong—she wondered, Where did Xiang Yong come from to send down to Feishi Town? A young life withered forever in these mountains. Only his parents and a few others would remember this young man, full of youthful dreams and vitality.

Since Meng Ning had taken over, Hou Weidong and Zhu Xiaoyong did not idle. The three of them worked together and soon cleared the second grave. This was also the tomb of an educated youth, whom Wu Ying recognized. She lit incense and burned paper money at both graves. At Xiang Yong’s tomb, she additionally placed several cigarettes and poured an entire bottle of Moutai liquor.

Sighing, Wu Ying said to Meng Ning, "Your Uncle Xiang’s greatest dream was to drink a bottle of Moutai. He practiced martial arts and admired Xu Shiyu the most. Unfortunately, he never got to drink it before he died."

Meng Ning was curious about Xiang Yong, but seeing her mother’s demeanor, she held back her questions. She had a keen interest in the stories of the educated youth era and had even visited the public cemetery for those killed in factional struggles at Geleshan in Chongqing. Although the circumstances differed, both belonged to that era where passion, dreams, blood, tears, and suffering were inextricably intertwined.

Before they knew it, they had spent over three hours at the cemetery. With Xiang Yong’s grave cleared, its dilapidation was laid bare. Wu Ying stood there for a moment. "If I can find time next time, I’ll hire a small construction crew to repair the grave thoroughly. If it remains in this state, it will eventually be swallowed by the grass."

She knew that in this world, Xiang Yong had few friends left. Although he had once commanded respect at the Chengjin educated youth station, with the passage of time, he had become little more than a distant background figure in the memories of most educated youths.

Trouble arose on the way down the mountain. The truck was loaded with ore, weighing dozens of tons. The driver had to spray water on the tires to brake effectively, leaving the right side of the road muddy and difficult to traverse.

Halfway down, a truck broke down, blocking the road completely. Only a mechanic could fix it. After asking the driver, they learned this was the only road down the mountain. With no other options, they could only wait impatiently for the mechanic.

Wu Ying was tired. Seeing that they couldn’t drive for a while, she reclined the passenger seat, covered herself with a thin sheet, and settled down to sleep.

Hou Weidong, Zhu Xiaoyong, and Meng Ning got out of the car and chatted by the roadside. The breakdown had occurred at a high embankment, two or three hundred meters above the valley floor. Below, only short trees grew, offering no cover. The jumble of rocks at the bottom looked intimidating.

The town was named Feishi Town (Flying Stone Town), likely due to these stones below.

Trucks continued to descend from the mountain, quickly forming a queue along the winding mountain road. Aside from Zhu Xiaoyong’s and Hou Weidong’s off-road vehicles, the rest were all trucks.

"I didn't expect such a small place as Feishi Town to have so many trucks," Zhu Xiaoyong remarked. "The mountain must produce some kind of ore."

"Teacher Zhu has a sharp eye," Hou Weidong said. "This mountain belongs to the Haishan range and is rich in phosphate deposits. The highest quality ore is found in the section bordering Maoyun City and Shazhou. Without this mine, this would be a barren, harsh mountain. When Aunt Wu was an educated youth here, it was one of the hardest places. But since the phosphate mining began, it has become a treasure mountain, much like the Gold Rush in the United States."

Zhu Xiaoyong observed for a while. "The vehicles are all different models, which suggests that mining operations are likely disorganized. Of course, this is my subjective impression. In modern mining operations I’ve seen, most vehicles are of a unified model."

Hou Weidong’s early economic foundation had come from stone, so he had a special affection for mining. "The economic level of counties in Shazhou is low; they rely on resources to survive. The situation is similar across the region."

Viewing the issue from a scholar’s perspective, Zhu Xiaoyong said, "This method has a significant environmental impact and involves predatory resource extraction. It will inevitably be stopped by the state one day."

The two men smoked and chatted casually while Meng Ning stood by the rock edge, arms crossed, looking out at the distant scenery.

Many drivers, growing impatient, ran down to check the situation. Qin Gan, who had acquired a small mine in Feishi Town, was descending with the drivers. Suddenly spotting Hou Weidong below, he hurried over. He first shouted, "Madman!" then corrected himself, "Uncle Hou, what are you doing here?"

Although Hou Weidong was only a few years older than Qin Gan, he had always addressed Qin Gan’s father, Qin Dajiang, as "Big Brother." After Qin Dajiang’s passing, Hou Weidong visited Shangqinglin several times a year, always stopping to see Qin Dajiang’s widow. Thus, in formal settings, Qin Gan addressed him as "Uncle Hou."

Hou Weidong was surprised. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t in this area."

"I couldn’t hold my ground over there. I initially found a mine, but it was low-grade and not worth mining. The rich veins were too hard to secure. Later, I heard the resources in Feishi Town were decent, so Zeng Xianyong and I came here. We’ve contracted a small mine. We should make money this year, but local protectionism is severe, making it hard for outsiders to survive."

Recalling the gathering of cars at the Chengjin Hotel, Hou Weidong’s mind stirred. "Are any county leaders involved in the phosphate mines?"

"Of course," Qin Gan said. "Li Dongfang, the son of Executive Vice County Magistrate Li Taizhong, is the biggest phosphate boss. He holds all the good mines. The mine Zeng Xianyong and I bought was barely alive. But we got lucky; after buying it, we accidentally discovered a new vein. Since then, our transport volume has increased, and people have started harassing us."

Thinking of Qin Dajiang, Hou Weidong’s expression grew serious. "You need to be careful. Li Dongfang is no pushover, and he’s smart. Be vigilant. There are many profitable businesses out there; you don’t have to fixate on this mine."

"We stumbled upon a rich vein. We’ve already invested over two million yuan; we can’t pull out now. Once this mine is exhausted, Zeng Xianyong and I will retire. It will be enough to last us a lifetime." Qin Gan was naturally bold, and seeing such huge profits, he was unwilling to let go.

A long line of trucks had formed on the mountain road, and many drivers had come down to check the situation. As Qin Gan spoke, his expression changed. "Uncle Hou, the situation here is complex. I need to go back to the truck to prevent anyone from tampering with it." He had a replica Type 54 pistol tucked into his waistband. He wasn’t afraid of being bullied in broad daylight, but since the trucks were heavily loaded, any tampering during the descent would be disastrous. He needed to stay with the driver to guard the vehicle.

Hearing Qin Gan’s words, Zhu Xiaoyong looked surprised. "How poor is the social order in Chengjin? It seems our encounter at noon, though accidental, was also inevitable. You are the Deputy Director of the Municipal Party Committee Office. You should report this situation to Secretary Zhou when you return." He asked further, "Does your Municipal Party Committee not go to the grassroots level, conduct in-depth research, and maintain close ties with the masses? This is a fine tradition."

Having served as Deputy Director of the County Party Committee Office and now the Municipal Party Committee Office, Hou Weidong was well-positioned to comment. "When leaders go to the grassroots, the routes are predetermined. It’s hard to understand the actual situation. To get first-hand information, one needs to travel lightly and simply, as we are doing today."

"That’s not difficult," Zhu Xiaoyong said.

Hou Weidong scratched his head. "In theory, it’s not difficult, but in practice, it is. I am Secretary Zhou’s secretary and know his situation best. As soon as he gets to the office every day, he is swamped. A city with several million people has too many problems to solve."

"I recall that the U.S. President must take a vacation every year. Are the duties of a Municipal Party Secretary more numerous than those of the U.S. President?"