Chapter Two: Family

After setting his goal, Yang Xingwu immediately devised a study plan in his mind.

Young Yang’s talent was average, but decent enough. Coupled with his many years of teaching high school mathematics, he naturally had no worries about that subject.

Reflecting carefully on past knowledge points, he realized his memory had improved significantly—perhaps this was one of the perks of time travel!

At this time, the college entrance examination had not yet undergone reform; the country used a unified test paper, generally following the “4+2” or “4+3” mode.

The exam still followed the pattern of six subjects for liberal arts and seven for science.

Besides the main subjects—Chinese, Math, and Politics—scores for four other subjects were equal. Liberal arts students took two additional subjects: History and Geography, each worth 100 points.

Science students took three: Physics and Chemistry, each 100 points, and Biology, 50 points.

The total score for science was 690, and for liberal arts, 640.

It is worth noting that the weight of foreign language scores was not as high as in later years. While Chinese and Mathematics each accounted for 120 points, Foreign Language was only 100 points.

At this time, the foreign language was a genuine foreign language; candidates chose one they were proficient in from Russian, English, German, French, Japanese, or Spanish as their exam subject.

Additionally, the college entrance exam was held in early July, from the 7th to the 9th, spanning three days. This meant there were nearly two months left before the exam, which gave Yang Xingwu increasing confidence.

After sorting out the details of the exam, Yang Xingwu stood up, pushed open the door, and walked out into the yard.

Looking at the somewhat dated earthen house, he couldn’t help but be reminded of his grandfather’s home.

Having grown up in the village, he naturally understood these earthen houses well. The small courtyard was modest, about a fifth of an acre.

The main hall was a three-room earthen house, weathered and eroded, with parts of the walls peeling off, revealing the straw inside.

The western wing was half a room, serving as the kitchen, where the most valuable items were an iron pot and a bellows.

Yang Xingwu wanted to wash his face and saw an enamel basin on the wooden rack. He intended to fetch water from the hand pump well but, after circling the yard, found no sign of such a well.

Though the yard was small, to his surprise, there was a cesspit, currently empty, likely already used to fertilize the crops.

Beside it was a small vegetable garden of about a dozen square meters, planted with plenty of things: scallions, ginger, garlic, eggplant, peppers, chives—which were ready to harvest—and cucumbers just beginning to bear small fruits, a pleasing sight.

After a round of searching and finding no hand pump well, Yang Xingwu headed straight to the kitchen, took a gourd dipper, scooped some water from a wooden barrel, and poured it into the basin.

Carrying the ceramic basin into the yard, he set it on the wooden rack and began washing his face.

May’s weather was still a bit chilly; after washing, Yang Xingwu felt much more awake.

By now, he also roughly understood why there was no hand pump well at home.

This was still the early 1980s, and hand pump wells would only become common around the 1990s, as drilling wells and installing pipes was expensive—costing over a hundred yuan per set.

In this small village, where land was just allocated to households and the average per capita was barely two acres, a strong laborer working hard all year wouldn’t even earn a hundred yuan. How could anyone afford such an expense?

Understanding the reason, Yang Xingwu didn’t mind. Difficulties were temporary; the urgent task was to improve the family’s living conditions first!

It was now May, the lean season between harvests. The food he brought to school mostly consisted of sweet potatoes and cornmeal. If there were any vegetables, they were fermented beans, which were considered a luxury. Most of the time, they had to chew on salty pickles.

Now that he was home to recuperate, besides studying, he had to find ways to improve life.

With this in mind, Yang Xingwu measured his height, rubbing some mud on the ground, standing upright with his head against the doorframe, and marking it.

He glanced at the mark on the doorframe, feeling both amused and helpless.

Judging by the mark, he was not even 160 centimeters tall.

He looked down at his chest; good grief, no need for a CT scan to see his skeletal frame.

“Damn, this is a little landmine for postgraduate exams!” Yang Xingwu muttered to himself.

Calming down, he secretly felt relieved.

Fortunately, he was only seventeen; with better nutrition ahead, there was still a chance to break 175 cm!

With that hope, Yang Xingwu was even more eager to earn some money. Although he knew eggs were nutritious, his family couldn’t afford one every day, especially since eggs were a precious household commodity.

Eggs were the source of the family’s daily necessities.

After much thought, Yang Xingwu still had no good solution.

There’s no difficulty in the world if you’re willing to give up—unable to figure it out, Yang Xingwu didn’t want to waste any more brainpower. After all, the more he thought, the hungrier he felt. He might as well lie down on the kang bed and sleep to ease his hunger.

Just then, his head still felt a bit dizzy, so he returned to the kang to rest.

Lying there for a while, Yang Xingwu suddenly heard the sound of the door opening. He quickly closed his eyes and pretended to nap.

After the door opened, a young girl came in, panting and out of breath.

She sneaked quietly to Yang Xingwu’s kang, and seeing him still resting with closed eyes, she sighed with relief, quietly grateful.

Not long after, a commotion arose in the yard.

The little girl hurried out of the main room and, seeing the crowd, called out:

“Mother, elder brother and sister have returned!”

“Has your second brother woken up yet?”

“Not yet—still asleep!”

“Oh, my poor son!”

Hearing her young daughter’s words, Wang Zhaodi immediately sighed deeply. She hurried into the main room and approached the kang on the left, looking at her son still asleep with a heart full of sorrow.

“My son! It’s all my fault—I shouldn’t have put so much pressure on you. If you ask me, our old Yang family just isn’t meant for university. Son, please get better soon. I’ll go light incense for the heavens and pray for their blessing!”

Wang Zhaodi stared for a while, making Yang Xingwu nervous, fearing he’d be found out. Fortunately, after a moment, she went to offer incense.

After sincerely kneeling and praying in the main room, Wang Zhaodi began preparing the midday meal.

In the countryside at that time, people only ate two meals a day: lunch around eleven, and dinner around five.

After eating and washing up, they would go out to chat with neighbors until nightfall, then go to bed.

At dawn, they returned to work in the fields, laboring until noon to come home, cook, eat, rest briefly, then continue working until five to eat dinner.

This routine of rising with the sun and resting at sunset, even today remains a lifestyle for many elderly in rural areas, although now they often add breakfast.