An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 316 A glimmer of hope appears after a long period of darkness; another "village" has opened up.

Over the next week, Meng Youyou went to Nanyu Town in one go, but she couldn't find the traditional Chinese medicine clinic called "Ruizhixuan". She climbed Nanyu Mountain, traversing the small hill many times, but still couldn't find Lin's mother's tombstone.

As for the discovery at the museum, it was more like a lost person in a foggy forest who, when all hope seemed lost, unexpectedly found a series of footprints in the grass. Such traces of human presence are like a sudden shot of adrenaline for a lost soul trapped in a desolate place, on the verge of losing all hope, making it hard not to feel an intense and exhilarating excitement.

But after the initial excitement, when you continue following the footprints, you find it's only a short section, and the path abruptly ends. At this point, you still can't find your way and are once again lost and confused.

Meng Youyou wondered if she should go back to Beijing, return to her original life, seal away this extraordinary experience, treasure it in her heart, and then embrace the future with grace.

Logically speaking, she should do it, and she will do it sooner or later.

However, human nature is greedy. Originally, she would have been content if she could have found even the slightest clue. But when she actually touched upon something about him, she never expected that her desire would swell and expand rapidly in an instant, and people often become dissatisfied and want to grasp more.

She wanted to move forward, but there was no way forward; she encountered obstacles everywhere and had no way out. Yet, she was reluctant to take a step back. Meng Youyou was torn between these conflicting emotions, and she paced around in circles, at a loss.

After returning from Nanyu Town, she locked herself in her hotel room, buried herself in her computer writing her thesis, and spent two days and two nights in a daze, never even stepping out of the hotel.

Just as she finished typing out the latest set of arguments based on data analysis, the food delivery call came in. Hearing the call, Meng Youyou looked up from her computer screen, slipped on her slippers, and went to the door to get the food.

She ordered braised pork wrapped in plastic, a local specialty. As soon as Meng Youyou lifted the plastic lid, a greasy smell mixed with the pungent smell of meat wafted out, making her frown instinctively.

The pork belly in the bowl was coated in a thick, sticky, dark brown sauce, with a few wilted, blackened cilantro leaves clinging to it, clearly having been sitting for quite some time. Meng Youyou picked up her chopsticks, took a piece of pork, and spat it out after the first bite. Unconvinced, she picked up some side dishes, but after only two bites, the greasy taste in her mouth surged up.

Meng Youyou picked up the water glass next to her and took two big gulps to barely suppress the discomfort.

The terrible takeout on the table seemed like a bad omen, as if indirectly telling her to go home—look at you, you can't even order a decent takeout meal if you stay here.

Almost angrily, Meng Youyou threw down the disposable chopsticks in her hand, picked up her phone, opened the ticketing app, and booked her return train and plane tickets in one go.

After finishing all this, Meng Youyou suddenly slumped onto the table, burying her face in her arms, wanting to cry, but not crying. Although no one would see, she felt that crying so easily was pathetic and weak, so she bit her lip and forced back the surge of resentment and bitterness. She just slumped dejectedly in the chair, sitting quietly for a long time without moving.

Meng Youyou ultimately succumbed to the difficulties of reality. Many things in this world don't simply happen by gritting your teeth and persevering, and a clear outcome will await you ahead.

She barely ate two bites of her lunch delivery before throwing it in the trash. At 3 p.m., Meng Youyou was sitting at her desk writing her thesis as usual, but her stomach started to protest, rumbling loudly.

Meng Youyou clicked the save button and closed her laptop. Thinking that she was going home anyway tomorrow, and that spending the last half-day cooped up indoors was a waste, she decided to go out for a walk and find something to eat.

At this point in time, it was already past the last mealtime and still a while before the next, so most restaurants had already closed for lunch. Meng Youyou walked down the street, and many of the elegantly decorated shops had their interiors dark, exuding an inexplicable sense of desolation. Only a few small, unassuming eateries and snack stalls had their doors open and their lights on.

Therefore, instead of heading towards the bustling main street, Meng Youyou randomly turned into a deep alley. In the middle of the alley, a row of tiny, unassuming shops stood side by side, their storefront signs each more plain than the last, some even lacking proper names. This simple, unpretentious style, ironically, gave one an intuition that "the food must be pretty good."

Meng Youyou stood in front of the shop, taking stock of the place, and finally her fingertip landed on a small shop with a sign that read "Aunt Liu's Roasted Rice Cake".

Inside the shop, the proprietress stood in front of the griddle, skillfully pressing and flipping rice balls in her hands. The rice cakes were roasted until they puffed up slightly, with a fragrant, slightly charred edge. Seeing a customer enter, she busily greeted her, "What would you like to eat, beautiful lady?"

Meng Youyou's gaze lingered on the menu on the wall. After a few seconds of consideration, she said, "One serving of sweet and savory roasted rice cake, plus a fried egg."

"Alright, beautiful lady, just a moment, it'll be ready soon!" the proprietress replied crisply, scooping an egg from the bowl beside her and gently tapping it on the edge of the hot plate. The egg yolk slid into the pan, sizzling and releasing an even stronger aroma.

While waiting, Meng Youyou found a seat nearby. The wooden tables and chairs in the shop looked older than her father, but they were all polished to a shine, without a trace of grease.

Looking up, she saw a simple iron TV stand nailed to the corner of the wall directly above her seat, with a dark brown, old-fashioned box-type TV set on it. The screen was small and it was on.

There were no other customers in the shop, and Meng Youyou watched TV listlessly. A local TV interview program was playing on the screen, with a dark yellow artistic logo in the lower right corner and the program title written below: "Biographies of People from Fanzhou".

The camera was focused on the female host in the studio, dressed in a beige suit, with a friendly smile on her lips: "Engineer Yang, we have learned that the two most outstanding labels in your career are 'tacklers' of major national transportation projects and 'pathfinders' for the development of your hometown."

She paused, her eyes filled with curiosity and respect, and continued, "It is said that after you graduated with your doctorate from Tsinghua University, you had a high-paying offer from a top design institute in a first-tier city, and even well-known engineering companies abroad extended offers to you. The treatment and platform were top-notch. I believe that these opportunities would have been a great temptation for many young people in that era."

The female host then changed the subject: "But you resolutely chose to return to your relatively remote hometown and start by building the first rural road." Her tone was full of inquiry: "May I ask? How did you make this decision back then?"

As soon as the host finished speaking, the camera gently panned and steadily focused on the man sitting on the other sofa. He was about fifty years old, wearing a simple dark blue shirt, the collar buttoned up neatly without a single wrinkle; a pair of thin-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, his eyes behind the lenses gentle and bright, his demeanor exuding composure and affability.

As the camera focused, a white caption appeared below his face: "Guest: Yang Xiaofeng, National Outstanding Engineer".

The moment Meng Youyou saw the subtitles, she froze in her chair, forgetting to blink.

On television, the conversation continued: "Actually, there's nothing complicated about it."

As he spoke, the man with slightly graying temples looked towards the distance of the studio, as if lost in some kind of memory. After pausing for two seconds, he slowly began to speak: "When I was young, my family was poor. I received a lot of kindness and support from the villagers, which helped me get into university. When I graduated and was looking for a job, all I could think about was how I used to have to cross mountains and valleys to get to school. The villagers mostly carried their agricultural products to town on their shoulders and backs, which was very difficult."

He turned his gaze to the host and said, "I happen to be an engineering student, so it would be good to go back and repair the roads. It would also be good to make it easier for more people to get out of the mountains."

The host listened intently, nodding frequently with emotion in his eyes. He then took over the conversation, continuing the discussion: "So this choice was backed by such a deep connection to his hometown!"

She glanced down at the outline in her hand, then looked up at Mr. Yang sitting opposite her: "You've been living in your hometown for nearly ten years. You not only spearheaded the construction of the first cross-border channel in Panzhou City, but also promoted the construction of 13 main transportation lines, 5 convenient bridges, and countless rural roads in your hometown."

These roads and bridges have not only facilitated the travel of villagers and residents, but more importantly, they have boosted border trade, tourism, and the export of local agricultural products, making a significant contribution to the local economic development.

"But then you chose to go to the capital to devote yourself to a more cutting-edge national major transportation research project. What was the consideration behind this change?" the host asked.

Mr. Yang Xiaofeng smiled upon hearing this, his tone remaining calm: "During my years at the grassroots level, I accumulated a lot of practical experience in transportation construction and also encountered many technical bottlenecks."

At the time, I wondered if we could try applying these grassroots experiences to national-level technological research to tackle more cutting-edge problems, and then promote these high technologies to road construction and development in more cities across the country to play a greater role.

After listening, the host concluded: "From a poor boy in the mountains of Fanzhou to a PhD in engineering from Tsinghua University, then to Engineer Yang who built the first cross-border passage in his hometown, and now to an expert leading the national high-speed rail permafrost technology research, your experience sounds truly legendary!"

"Looking back at your journey, it's clear that you have a very clear plan for your development path at every stage." The host leaned forward, his eyes full of anticipation. "I would like to ask, in your personal growth path, is there anyone who has profoundly influenced your principles of conduct and work, allowing you to always be clear about what you want to do?" Mr. Yang Xiaofeng pondered for a few seconds, adjusted his posture slightly, and then replied, "I think there should be two."

"Oh? There are two of you." The host immediately chimed in, "Could you both tell us about it?"

“Of course.” Mr. Yang Xiaofeng nodded and smiled. “One of them is my father. He used to be a soldier. He was injured and retired and returned to the village. Back then, whenever any family in the village had a problem, such as the Zhang family losing their cow, the Li family having a leaky roof, or the Zhou family’s two sons having a dispute over dividing the family property, they would usually ask him to solve the problem, and he was always happy to lend a hand.”

My father taught me that a real man should protect the land he inhabits.

The host listened with a smile throughout, nodding and responding appropriately to the speaker's narration.

“The other one was also a soldier.” Mr. Yang Xiaofeng’s voice slowed down, as if he were retrieving a long-forgotten memory. “That year, their troops came to our village to help the people, helping to repair irrigation ditches and cultivate the fields. Around that time, my grandmother accidentally broke her leg while picking mushrooms on the mountain. I was terrified. Hospitalization would cost a lot of money, and going to school would also cost a lot of money. Moreover, as long as I continued to go to school, my grandmother would have to go to the mountain to pick mushrooms again.”

"So the only solution I could think of at that time was to give up going to school and go up the mountain to pick mushrooms for my grandma." As he said this, Mr. Yang unconsciously rubbed his hands, which were resting on his knees, against the fabric of his suit pants, as if he was a little embarrassed, and also a little amused by his own naivety and ignorance when he was young.

"But at that time, a soldier uncle very seriously taught me not to give up studying easily."

I asked him, "What is the meaning of reading?"

He told me it was so that when he grew up, he would have the ability to protect the people he loved and give them a better life, instead of forever relying on picking mushrooms in the mountains to make a living.

Mr. Yang Xiaofeng spoke slowly and clearly: "He also said that if he had more ability, he would protect more people and help more people live a better life."

Upon hearing this, Meng Youyou suddenly felt a violent shiver run down her spine, a tingling sensation spreading through her. The red-hot griddle in the small shop was sizzling, and she felt the bubbling oil splatter all over her.

The man's voice continued to come from the television: "I asked him, 'Is it like this now?'"

He patted my head, looked at me with encouraging eyes, and answered earnestly, "Yes! Just like us!"

The night before their troops left the village, that uncle found me again and asked me one last question: "Do you want to be like us?"

Mr. Yang Xiaofeng's story ended there; he did not choose to reveal the inner world of the little boy who was in the second grade of elementary school back then to the audience.

Perhaps it was that young Yang Xiaofeng who didn't answer the soldier's weighty question back then, or perhaps it's the current Engineer Yang who feels it's pretentious and doesn't want to talk about it.

But everyone who watched the show knew perfectly well what his answer was.

A deliveryman in a blue shirt passed by, and a dozen seconds later, carrying a bag of food, he hurried past the table again. His breath was so strong that it touched Meng Youyou's skin, and the stinging sensation of being covered in oil splatters gradually dissipated.

Just then, a plate of fragrant roasted rice cakes was served in front of her. Meng Youyou turned her head to thank the aunt, then turned back to watch TV. The interview program had naturally transitioned to the next topic.

Mr. Yang Xiaofeng on TV didn't reveal much information about this soldier uncle, not even mentioning his surname, but... that was him, Meng Youyou had no doubt whatsoever. It was something he would do, something he would dedicate his entire life to, fulfilling his promises.

He may seem cold and hard, but he actually harbors the most humane and noble ideals in the world, and his heart is full of warmth and tenderness than anyone else's.

However, he would only say such things to a naive little child.

The television screen was now quietly playing a video of a reporter visiting Mr. Yang Xiaofeng and the villagers, with the backdrop of early spring wheat and rice paddies. The camera slowly zoomed out, cutting to an overhead shot of the entire village, with distant mountains like dark eyebrows and a babbling brook.

In fairy tales, an elf princess is hunted by an evil witch and trapped in a dark magic forest. Just when she is feeling hopeless, she often encounters a group of fireflies, robins, or scarecrows. They guide her into a tree hole hidden by vines, leading to a secret passage to a peaceful village.

And at the end of the animated film, there is always a peaceful and dreamlike village scene, with smoke rising from the chimneys and the villagers living in harmony and friendship.

It is a symbol of hope and beauty.

If what Meng Youyou saw at the museum a few days ago was like the faint glow of fireflies, then this time, it was as if she saw the sunlight shining in from the end of the cave.

A person who is already unwilling to give up will be easily tempted by even the slightest temptation, and will jump on the "pirate ship" without hesitation, abandoning their carefully prepared plans and all their assets.

Meng Youyou canceled her return flight, packed her bags, and embarked on her journey to Jinsui Village.

Everyone fears difficulty, and Meng Youyou couldn't help but be afraid. She feared that she had finally mustered up enough courage to try again, only to fall heavily once more, still in so much pain, even more so than before.

Courage is never something readily available or easily replenished. Repeated disappointments can erode one's ability to hope, making them hesitant and timid. Perhaps... one should quietly retreat into their shell, carefully nurturing their battered heart with the little warmth and sweetness they retain?

But life is so long, and we must always muster that one determination to do what we know is difficult and uncertain, so that we will not have lived in vain.

Although most villages have been connected by paved roads in recent years, Jinsui Village is still somewhat remote. The taxi driver had to ask Meng Youyou for several additional fares before he agreed to take her on this trip.

As the car drove out of the last set of traffic lights in the county, Meng Youyou leaned against the back window, watching the scenery outside the window like a slowly fading urban painting.

At first, there were dense shops and bustling markets, with the afternoon sun reflecting off the glass facades of tall buildings; gradually, the buildings became shorter, turning into scattered auto repair shops and building materials markets, with a layer of dust covering the huge billboards.

Further ahead, the view suddenly opened up, with boundless fields replacing the streets and alleys. The early spring breeze, carrying the scent of earth and grass, blew into the car window, leaving the hustle and bustle far behind, and the world suddenly became quiet.

The lyrics in the headphones thus become more pleasant and clear:
"I've only been in this world for a few decades."

Yet, for love, they dared to waste their lives.

Meeting and parting, greed, anger, love, infatuation, and resentment.

Passing through the human world, I'm busy with these things.
Does anyone have any objections? Or is it that no one in your heart cares?

"With no one to love, what a waste it is to have come to this world!"

Perhaps, if you've read this far, including the later chapters, and are still confused, keep reading—the answers will be clear.