Chapter 2: Regrets of the Past Life

Chapter 2: Regrets of the Past Life

The next day, Deng Shirong woke up at daybreak.

In his previous life, after turning 60, Shirong had slept less and less, rising at this hour every morning. It had become a biological clock.

After dressing and stepping out of his room, Shirong saw his eldest daughter, Deng Yunzhen, cooking breakfast by the kitchen stove. He wasn't surprised. His wife had passed away five years ago, and since then, Yunzhen had taken charge of the family's meals until her marriage.

Hearing the noise, Yunzhen looked up. "Dad, you're up already. Why not sleep a little longer?"

"Once I'm awake, I can't fall back asleep," Shirong replied, studying his daughter.

Before his rebirth, Yunzhen had been in her sixties. Her difficult marriage and years of hard labor had aged her beyond her years, making her look like a woman in her seventies or eighties.

Now, despite her patched clothes, sun-weathered skin, and calloused hands from farm work, she was still in her prime, full of youthful vigor.

At 1.62 meters tall, Yunzhen stood out in rural Guangxi, where the average height was notably shorter. In later generations or northern regions, her height might have been unremarkable, but here, it was a rarity.

Height had always been a factor in marriage discussions, both in this era and the future. Taller individuals were seen as more desirable, while shorter ones were often overlooked.

With Yunzhen's height and decent looks, she could have married into a well-off family. Unfortunately, in his previous life, Shirong hadn't paid enough attention to his children's marriages. He had trusted matchmakers too readily, resulting in unhappy marriages for all six of his children.

The discord between his sons and daughters-in-law had affected Shirong deeply. Though he hadn't lacked money in his later years—his children and grandchildren gave him funds during holidays, and his sons provided monthly living expenses—he had lived alone in his rural home, with only occasional visits from his family.

Until the day he closed his eyes for the last time, Shirong had lived a solitary life. It was impossible to say he had no regrets.

Now, God had given him another chance. This time, he would take control, ensuring his children found suitable partners and avoiding the mistakes of the past.

"Dad, go brush your teeth and wash your face. The porridge will be ready soon," Yunzhen said.

Shirong nodded and went to freshen up.

Half an hour later, the rest of the children woke up.

In these days, the village had no electricity, and nighttime entertainment was nonexistent. Everyone went to bed early and rose with the sun, unlike future generations who often slept in.

Breakfast consisted of white porridge and pickled cucumber skins.

The porridge here was different from elsewhere. Even a small amount of rice was cooked in a large pot of water, with the rice water serving as a drink.

During the hardest times of his life, Shirong would fill his bowl with watery porridge, drinking the rice water until his stomach was nearly full before eating the last few bites of rice.

The pickled cucumber skins weren't fresh or crisp but had been dried, making them tough to chew. Still, they made a decent side dish for the porridge.

After breakfast, Shirong headed to Deng Yungui's house. Though he planned to become a matchmaker, he saw no reason to pass up the opportunity to earn money from the tile factory in the coming years.

In less than two minutes, he arrived at Yungui's home.

After exchanging greetings, Shirong got straight to the point. "Yungui, I'm willing to partner with you to lease the kiln, but I don't plan to continue as the master potter. If we run the factory together, I'd like my son Yuntai to take on that role. What do you think?"

Yungui was surprised. He had chosen Shirong as a partner for three reasons:

First, Shirong held a high generational status in their clan. The Deng family had settled in the area during the mid-Ming Dynasty (around 1500 AD), and Shirong, of the "Shi" generation, was the eldest in their branch. In a community where clan hierarchy mattered, his words carried weight.

Second, Shirong was a renowned master potter, his skills surpassing others in the region.

Third, Shirong was bold and decisive, unlike many of their timid peers.

Now, Shirong's decision to step down as master potter would significantly impact the factory's operations, as the master potter represented the pinnacle of the factory's craftsmanship.

"Uncle Jiu, why don't you want to be the master potter anymore?" Yungui asked.

Shirong couldn't reveal his plans to become a matchmaker, so he offered an excuse. "I'm getting old. My physical strength isn't what it used to be, and I'm not as quick as the younger generation. Besides, Yuntai has already mastered the craft. Let him take over."

Yungui hesitated but eventually nodded. "Alright, let Yuntai be the master potter. But if we lease the kiln, one master potter won't be enough. We'll need to hire another."

"That's easy. My apprentice can fill the role."

"That works."

With the master potter issue settled, the two discussed the lease term.

Yungui had already consulted the brigade cadres. Leasing the kiln cost 100 yuan per year. A ten-year lease would cost 1,000 yuan, and a twenty-year lease, 2,000 yuan. The pricing was straightforward.

Yungui leaned toward a twenty-year lease, but Shirong, knowing the factory's future decline, insisted on ten years to avoid wasting money.

"Uncle Jiu, I think we should think long-term. The money doesn't have to be paid all at once. Isn't ten years a bit too short?" Yungui advised.

Shirong smiled. "Ten years is plenty. Society is changing fast. Who knows what the world will be like in a decade? New products might replace tiles altogether. Wouldn't it be a waste to lease for twenty years?"

In their previous life, they had signed a twenty-year lease and even prepaid the fees during the factory's profitable years. But as the business declined, they struggled for a decade before declaring bankruptcy, losing 1,000 yuan in the process.

That sum might seem insignificant in the future, but in the early 1980s, it was a fortune.

Yungui chuckled. "Uncle Jiu, you're overthinking it. We've used jars and tiles for generations. How could they be replaced in just ten or twenty years?"

Shirong's smile was enigmatic. "Yungui, anything is possible. Let's lease it for ten years. If things go well, we can always renew the contract later."

Though Yungui found Shirong's concerns unnecessary, he didn't want to argue. "Alright, ten years it is."