Chapter 21: Going to the County to Deliver a Report

“Hurry up, especially you young men in the brigade. You’re not working as hard as these old folks. Is this all you can do? Back when we learned from Dazhai and went out to build the reservoir, it was much tougher than this!”
Li Dashan shouted at Liu Yimin and the others who were rubbing their shoulders, then went on to direct the crowd to drive the oxen. Too much water had been hauled uphill, and the animals had worked for too long. When hauling water up the slope, the oxen stopped in the middle of the road and wouldn’t budge, even when urged with the whip.
Liu Fuqing’s brows were knitted tightly as he looked at the blood streaks on the ox’s hindquarters, speaking to Li Dashan with concern, “Dashan, this won’t do. People can keep going, but if the oxen don’t rest, I’m afraid they’ll get sick.”
The leader of Team Three, Han Shaomin, added, “Yes, Secretary! Our brigade only has a few oxen and donkeys. If they die from exhaustion, the commune will hold us accountable!”
Some slackers were secretly hoping the oxen would drop dead, so every household could get a bit of beef.
Li Dashan was about to say something when he turned and saw three strangers pushing bicycles behind a fellow brigade member.
He pondered for a moment and thought, could they be cadres sent by the commune to help with the drought? He quickly stepped forward, excitedly grasped Old Sun’s hand and said, “Welcome, welcome! You’re here to support us, right? I’m the brigade secretary of Maiji Brigade, Li Dashan.”
Old Sun, bewildered, adjusted his glasses and glanced at the member leading them, sweat blurring his vision for a moment.
“Secretary, you’re mistaken. They’re not here to help. They’re writers, here to see Yimin,” the member explained quickly.
“What?” Li Dashan didn’t grasp it at first.
Old Sun hurried to clarify, “Comrade, hello. We’re from the county cultural center. We’d like to invite Comrade Liu Yimin from your brigade to give a talk at the cultural center.”
“Give a talk?”
Li Dashan knew what that meant. After he was wounded during the bandit suppression on the mountain, he recovered and had given talks at the commune and county committee. A few years ago, when studying Dazhai agriculture, they successfully transformed hill slopes into terraced fields.
They also dug irrigation channels along the banks of the Dead Leaf River, turning those plots into watered fields. The county commended them, and he was invited to speak at the Four Cadres Conference of the Revolutionary Committee, sharing Maiji Brigade’s Dazhai experience.
Back then, he wore a red flower, standing proudly on the stage at the county cinema. Revolutionary Committee leaders shook his hand one by one.
Now, Yimin, so young, has caught up and can give talks as well?
Li Dashan’s scalp itched as he scratched his sweat-soaked hair vigorously.

“Right, Comrade Liu Yimin published a novel in ‘People’s Literature.’ Did you know?”
“Yes, I know. He wrote about the donkey of the old school in the commune before liberation. But just look at this kid—why didn’t he write about our brigade’s donkey? Then our brigade would be famous across the country.”
Li Dashan had been pondering this for days. Their brigade’s donkey was hardworking, grinding grain tirelessly.
“Cough, cough!” Old Sun and Xiao Liu and Xiao Wang behind him were nearly choked by Li Dashan’s words.
“Comrades, are you feeling unwell?”
“No, no, Secretary. Comrade Liu Yimin’s article broke our county’s literary record. Our cultural center director takes it very seriously and hopes he can share his experience with us to improve our overall writing level.”
Hearing this, Li Dashan warmly led Old Sun toward the workers, pointing to Liu Yimin, who was trying to slack off, “See, that’s Yimin. I watched him grow up. I always said this kid had promise.”
“Yimin, my dad’s pointing at you. Get up and work!” Li Lanyong whispered.
Liu Yimin took a sip of soda, wiped his mouth and replied, “I’m not afraid of your dad. He still owes me wages!”
“Yimin, come here!” Li Dashan called out loudly.
“Hey, coming, Uncle Dashan!” Liu Yimin quickly hooked his water bottle to his belt and hurried over.
Just as he was about to run over, Li Lanyong said, “Yimin, wait, give me the water!”
“Here, here, drink till you burst!”
Liu Yimin laughed and hung the bottle around Li Lanyong’s neck, then ran toward Li Dashan. Li Lanyong took a triumphant sip, only to find there was barely a mouthful left.
“Yimin, let me introduce you. These are writers from the county cultural center. They have business with you. Go chat under the tree; I’ll get back to work.” Li Dashan kicked aside a member who wanted to stay and listen.
Then he shouted at those who had looked up, “Get back to work! If people delay the land for a moment, the land delays them for a year. Whether we have a good New Year depends on us. The commune says the heavy rain isn’t far off.”
Li Dashan glanced at the sky, not a cloud in sight, and spat forcefully, thinking to himself, this doesn’t look like rain at all!

Old Sun and his companions looked at the young man before them. His skin was as dark as if he were from the Third World. The edge of his straw hat had a hole, and his pale yellow vest clung to his body, with several small holes that looked like insect bites.
His pants were rolled up to the thighs, legs covered in river sand and yellow clay, and the soles of his Liberation shoes were about to come off. He was no different from any ordinary farmer.
“You’re Comrade Liu Yimin?” Old Sun asked, barely believing it.
“Hello, I am Liu Yimin.”
Liu Yimin extended his calloused hand, and Old Sun was silent for a moment. This was not what he had imagined—a writer whose work was published in “People’s Literature” should have a refined appearance, full of scholarly air.
If Liu Yimin knew what Old Sun was thinking, he would surely invite him to try carrying two big buckets of water up a slope for irrigation.
A load breaks the soul of production, Secretary, I am a man of books.
“‘The Donkey Gets Water’ was written by you? Comrade Liu Yimin, my name is Wang Youwen. The cultural center staff call me Xiao Wang, but given our age difference, you can just call me Old Wang!”
“Old Wang, yes, that was me.”
“Comrade Yimin, your writing is excellent and brought honor to our county. When our cultural center director heard about it, he was thrilled. After so many years, our Ru County finally produced a writer published in a national magazine. That’s why we’d like you to come and give a report.”
Old Sun quickly got to the point of their visit.
“Give a report? Absolutely!” Liu Yimin grinned, brushing the dust from his hands. He’d hauled enough water today.
Liu Fuqing and Yang Xiuyun were overjoyed to hear Liu Yimin would go to the cultural center to speak. At noon, they brought Old Sun and his companions home for lunch and helped Liu Yimin pack his things.
“Our Yimin is really making something of himself. In the past, only the secretary gave talks; now our Yimin can speak at the county level. He’s outdone his own father!” Yang Xiuyun said excitedly.
Liu Fuqing squatted by the threshold, smoking his pipe and laughing, “It’s good for him to go to the county. The work here in the brigade is just too exhausting!”