Chapter 5: The UC Shock Department

After convincing Li Pi with a bit of force and giving him 200 yuan to help Aunt Ma collect walnut shells, Li Xian returned home.

Walnut shells are valuable, but people in this era haven't yet realized their potential. Given this environment, trying to sell walnut shells at a high price is impossible.

So, in his plan, although walnut shells are the core, the real key lies in marketing.

That's right, marketing.

Since coming to this era, although Li Xian doesn't have any special "golden fingers" (cheat abilities), he does possess something invaluable: his knowledge from the future.

And, some memories from this "Second Uncle" (the body's previous owner).

It's clear that this Second Uncle was a person who enjoyed learning, as much of the knowledge seems deeply ingrained in his mind. Thanks to this, Li Xian knew that earlier this year, the Ministry of Health had released the results of three major cancer-related studies.

From the publication of these studies, China finally gained a clear understanding of cancer.

He needed to use this to his advantage.

Holding a Yungli fountain pen, Li Xian organized his thoughts. Relying on his memory, he excluded some arguments that hadn't yet emerged in this era and spent an entire afternoon writing two articles.

Having grown accustomed to typing on a computer, writing by hand with a fountain pen was truly exhausting. But looking at the two completed articles, with penmanship as steady as pine trees—thanks to muscle memory—Li Xian was quite satisfied.

This skill was something he didn't have before.

After reviewing the articles again and confirming there were no issues, he found two envelopes. With only 60 yuan left in his pocket, he made up his mind.

...

Early the next morning.

After breakfast, Li Pi, with a crafty look, checked on Li Xian and then headed to the backyard to collect walnut shells with Aunt Ma. Yesterday, with her strong networking skills, Aunt Ma had already spread the word about collecting walnut shells for 50 cents a basket throughout half the forest farm, and many people had already started delivering them, albeit with some skepticism.

Today, they should be able to get some money. After another round of Aunt Ma's promotion, the entire forest farm would know about it.

Unbothered, Li Xian got up, said goodbye to Li You and Zou Ni, and with two envelopes and 60 yuan in his pocket, boarded the only bus heading down the mountain to the Forestry Bureau.

It was a Hongye-brand minibus—the same kind seen in *Get on the Bus*, a film starring Guan Hu and Huang Bo.

Seeing the bus left Li Xian stunned.

But what stunned him even more was the road ahead.

The roads at this time were nothing like the cement roads of later years. Narrow, two-meter-wide mountain roads, rough and uneven, covered in thick dust.

Just looking at them made him feel carsick.

The driver, who Li Xian didn't know, was middle-aged and holding a cigarette. But he was familiar with the young female ticket seller. Over twenty years later, this Zhou family girl would still be traveling back and forth on this mountain road between the forest farm and Bangye Forestry Bureau.

Li Xian had seen her a few times when he returned to his hometown before, but she didn't look as fresh and lovely as she did now.

Noticing Li Xian staring at her, the girl blushed and lowered her head, humming softly through her nose, "Those who boarded later... get your tickets."

The young girl was quite shy.

Li Xian laughed heartily and teased, "How much for a ticket? Do you have a receipt?"

At this moment, the middle-aged driver with a cigarette suddenly stood up from his seat, took three steps to reach Li Xian, and said, "You brat, you've taken this bus four times a year and you don't know the fare? Li Lao'er, my daughter's on her first day on the job today, behave yourself and don't mess around!"

There weren't many people on the bus, but seeing the driver, Old Zhou, get worked up, a few passengers burst out laughing: "Old Zhou, if you're afraid your daughter will be abducted, then keep her at home!"

Old Zhou got angry and started trading insults with the cheeky passengers. This made the Zhou girl even more embarrassed.

Looking at the greasy, middle-aged driver and then at the fresh and delicate Zhou girl, like a water lily, Li Xian sighed inwardly.

"Even from poor bamboo... can come good shoots!"

While Old Zhou was busy arguing with the passengers, Li Xian took out money and handed it to the Zhou girl, saying, "Don't be nervous, you'll get used to it. We're all from the same village; we won't eat you."

The Zhou girl bit her lip, took the money, quickly glanced at Li Xian, and said nothing.

What should have been a two-hour journey in later years ended up taking four and a half hours in the bumpy Hongye minibus.

By the time they arrived, Li Xian was nearly vomiting bile. Now he finally understood why there was a thick stack of plastic bags hanging by the bus door!

Dizzy, Li Xian got up and saw the Zhou girl walking over, quickly slipping a small plastic bag into his hand.

"Have some candy; it'll help."

Li Xian looked at the warm candy, which had clearly been held in her hand for a long time and had started to melt, and was overwhelmed.

"Girl, if you had this, you should have given it to me earlier!"

"Ah, ah..." The Zhou girl was startled, her face turning bright red: "I... I..."

Li Xian didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Seeing the girl flustered, he waved the small bag of candy in his hand, "Alright, alright, thank you."

The Zhou girl slightly raised her head, smiled a little, and went off to clean the bus.

...

From Li Xian's memory, it was around 1994, after the mountains were stripped bare and the Bangye Forestry Bureau stopped logging in all its subsidiary forest farms, that it began to decline.

At this time, due to the massive logging tasks each year, the Bangye Forestry Bureau, which was responsible for supplying half of Xiaoxing'anling's timber, was still in its heyday.

Taking one of those blue-skinned rickshaws powered by what seemed to be a motorcycle engine, Li Xian arrived at the post office. After some inquiries, he learned that the two newspapers with the largest circulation in the Forestry Bureau were the *Forest Industry Daily* and the *Workers' Daily*, so he sent one of the two letters to the *Workers' Daily* office.

The remaining article he did not send out.

The timing... wasn't right yet.

After finishing this task, he found a nearby small inn and checked in.

Right now, making money was the priority.

As for the advice his mother Zou Ni had given him before he left, like visiting school leaders and giving gifts, he didn't care at all. What a joke—there's no guarantee that he'd even make it through this year, so why bother?

Besides, he was a young man from the 21st century, reborn to slog it out in a forest farm?

No way.

Even if he made it through the economic downturn of 1992, he had other plans.

Thus, he spent two days in the inn. During these two days, aside from waiting for the *Workers' Daily* each day, he wandered around the Forestry Bureau to familiarize himself with the environment.

If not for his nervousness about whether the key part of his plan—the article—would get published, his days would have been quite leisurely and enjoyable, soaking in the new experiences.

On the third day, a Tuesday.

Li Xian got up early, as usual, and after washing up, went to the breakfast stall outside.

Breakfast stalls at this time were quite similar, with fairly simple setups. The one outside the inn sold fried dough sticks and soy milk. In the summer, a few tables were set up along the dusty main road, with a big oil pot perched on a stove made from an oil drum, heating the oil until it was bubbling.

The soy milk was delivered by a tofu shop in the morning and kept warm in thermoses wrapped in rattan; you helped yourself.

By now, Li Xian was familiar with the stall owner. He found a chair, sat down, poured himself a bowl of soy milk, and ordered two fried dough sticks, known locally as "big fruits."

The five-cent bowl of soy milk made Li Xian realize how inferior the soy milk from chains like Yonghe and KFC was.

As a major soybean-producing area, the handmade soy milk from small mills was far richer than he had imagined.

The last two days, the breakfast stall had been quite busy. But today, something was strange—only three or five people were scattered across the six tables.

Seeing this, Li Xian, biting into his dough stick, asked the stall owner, Uncle Wang, who stood by the oil pot with a troubled expression, "Uncle Wang, why is business so bad today?"

It would have been better if he hadn't mentioned it. At the mention of this, Uncle Wang flew into a rage!

He angrily pulled out a newspaper from his grease-stained apron and slammed it in front of Li Xian.

"Damn it! I don't know which bastard wrote this crap in the *Workers' Daily*! It says something like... fried food causes cancer! Damn it, this morning, a bunch of people saw this article, dropped their chopsticks, and ran off! They didn't even pay!"

Huh?

Li Xian immediately picked up the newspaper and, at a glance, burst out

 laughing.

On the front page, there was a headline, bold and heavy, particularly eye-catching:

"Shocking! Results of the Ministry of Health's Three Major Cancer Studies Released. The Habits that Cause This Incurable Disease are Actually These!"