“Secretary Ma, don’t rush just yet. Hiring experts must first be reported to the higher-ups, but planting fruit trees will have to wait until after the drought, ideally in late autumn or early winter.”

Nan Sheng’s opinion was that simply bringing in experts wasn’t enough—they also needed to consider where to purchase saplings and how to sell the fruit once the trees bore produce.

A complete written plan had to be submitted for any chance of approval.

Secretary Ma was overjoyed. “Comrade Nan Sheng, I knew I wasn’t wrong about you! Go ahead with full confidence—I’ll support you 100% on this!”

Nan Sheng found it hard to refuse such enthusiasm…

The secretary added, “Comrade Nan Sheng, leave the rough work of drafting the plan to Peng Clerk. Just share your ideas with him—the fate of Xiaoling Village rests on us now!”

What a way to say “us.”

Clearly, Secretary Ma was determined to tie Nan Sheng to his ship, riding the waves together, even if it meant throwing dignity aside. Nan Sheng had no choice but to agree.

She could only say, “Thank you for your trust, leader. Peng Clerk and I will discuss this promptly and submit a complete plan soon!”

Back in the office, Nan Sheng began outlining the plan—a task not too difficult for her. Peng Clerk even brought her ice cubes, claiming it was to “sharpen her mind!”

He had never been this attentive to the secretary himself.

After Nan Sheng was summoned to the secretary’s office and returned with a sudden closeness to Peng Clerk, the other colleagues wondered: Was Secretary Ma poaching her?

They watched Du Tang with amusement, curious if he could keep such a valuable asset.

Du Tang was naturally curious about what had happened, but he trusted Nan Sheng’s clear-headedness—she wouldn’t recklessly involve herself in the power struggles between the town head and the secretary.

To emphasize the plan’s complexity, Nan Sheng spent an entire day polishing the draft before handing it to Peng Clerk.

“Comrade Peng, I’ve never written a formal plan before. Could you refine it for me? Feel free to make any improvements—no need to consult me.”

Peng Clerk hadn’t been idle either. He had drafted his own version, intending to merge it with Nan Sheng’s.

“No problem. I’ll rewrite it neatly at home. If you approve tomorrow morning, we’ll submit it to the secretary together.”

Nan Sheng wanted to say it wasn’t necessary, but Peng Clerk seemed unfazed by the secretary’s favoritism, solely focused on making this work.

After work, Du Tang found an excuse to walk home with Nan Sheng, pushing their bicycles side by side. Hearing her confusion, he unraveled the mystery.

“Peng Clerk was transferred here from the county. His wife and kids still live there. He wants the secretary promoted more than anyone. Don’t worry—I’ll give the town head a heads-up.”

Du Tang understood Nan Sheng well. They were both small players—no matter who they worked under, they had to deliver quality work when asked.

Besides, as Nan Sheng said, her efforts for Xiaoling Village were minor compared to the town head’s county-wide reforms. It wouldn’t cause much of a stir.

Peng Clerk skipped dinner upon returning to his dorm, immediately opening Nan Sheng’s draft.

As a seasoned clerk, he could tell she lacked experience in formal planning—yet the content was brilliant, needing no revisions.

Ideas like grafting existing trees to shorten the harvest cycle were angles he’d never considered.

He couldn’t help but wonder: How many more surprises did this seemingly uneducated country girl have in store?

After work, Nan Sheng visited the black market, buying a plump rooster and restocking on eggs.

Relieved not to run into Shitou and his crew, she headed home to Xiangyang Village.

The kids were still chopping firewood in the yard. Nan Sheng, heart aching, urged them to rest—but none listened.

Back inside, she started cooking cornmeal porridge and boiling water, only to face a dilemma. She opened the door and called for help.

“Sizhe, do you dare kill the chicken? I’m afraid it’ll come back to haunt me!”

Sizhe nearly laughed. Here was a woman who wasn’t afraid to discipline him, yet cowered before a chicken. His mother truly had her quirks.

But he’d never slaughtered a chicken either—no idea how to bleed it properly.

In the end, Sizhong volunteered, taking charge from start to finish: plucking the feathers, chopping the meat, and delivering it to the kitchen.

Stir-frying the chicken in lard to remove moisture before stewing it with pork created an irresistible aroma. Nan Sheng added plenty of potatoes—just this one dish was enough to make the kids savor every bite.

On their second meal here, Sizhong ate heartily, enjoying each mouthful. With only two drumsticks, the boys unanimously decided: one for their sister, one for “Auntie” Nan Sheng.

Nan Sheng accepted their kindness, filling up on potatoes and pork afterward.

This time, she didn’t send meat to her in-laws. Sizhong had mentioned earlier: the bowl of dumplings she’d sent yesterday never reached them—Lin Xue and her kids devoured it all.

Luckily, the children polished off the chicken, leaving no waste.

On their way home, Sizhong and Sicheng ran into a neighbor who asked where they’d been.

“We chopped firewood for Auntie. She fed us dinner,” they replied.

Few villagers lingered outside these days. The heat and dust left lips chapped within an hour.

With food scarce, most households ate thin, meager meals—only the laborers could afford full stomachs.

It took four days to finish chopping all the firewood. By then, Nan Sheng’s kitchen was nearly out of rice and flour.

Zhou Wei watched her sons return with full bellies again, envying the thought of working for her sister-in-law too.

Lin Xue wasn’t idle either, visiting Nan Sheng’s house daily.

Spotting leftover rice in the kitchen, she nearly drooled with envy—but with Sizhe keeping close watch, she didn’t dare steal any.

“Sizhe, why’s your room locked? Let me take a look.”

Sizhe found his aunt changed. Once aloof, she now seemed shameless.

“No. Mom’s orders. If you want to see, come back when she’s home.”

Lin Xue loathed Nan Sheng’s face—she’d rather avoid her altogether.

She offered candy as a bribe. “Sizhe, your kitchen’s almost out of food. Is the rest stored in your room? Just let me check!”

She’d already inspected the east room—the wardrobe held clothes, the standing cabinet was locked. But if it stored grain, Nan Sheng would’ve locked the door too.

So she concluded: the food was in Sizhe’s room.

Once she confirmed her brother’s family’s reserves, she could tell her in-laws to come collect their share.

Her initial demand: 500 pounds from her parents, 300 from each brother. If her second brother had extra, she’d take more.

Then she wouldn’t have to live apart from her husband—perfect!

Before Sizhe could answer, Siqi protested.

“We don’t want candy. There’s no food here. Auntie, go home!”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep