Official title: Refused to stay at the university, started his career in a rural town.

On the seventh day of the first lunar month, Yang Fan had already boarded a bus bound for Qingping Township.

He leaned against the car window, a thin layer of frost forming on the glass.

Qi Tongwei's crumpled account book was still swirling in his mind.

The chicken sellers, the grain sellers, the winter quilt sellers—those crooked names and red handprints.

Qi Tongwei said that the hardest thing to repay was not the money, but the way those people looked at him with such longing eyes—"You are a college student that only comes out of our village once in several generations."

Yang Fan understood what he meant.

The year he was admitted to Handong University, Yangjiayu was around the same time.

His mother sold the family's only pig, and his father squatted at the door smoking a pipe all night. The next day, he put the pipe away and never smoked it again.

It's not that I don't want to smoke, it's that I'm saving money to cover his travel expenses.

The villagers each contributed five yuan here and three yuan there, pooling together forty-seven yuan and sixty cents. His father took out a small notebook and wrote it down stroke by stroke, the characters crooked like earthworms crawling.

Later, Yang Fan got the notebook back and put it at the bottom of a box. Even though he had already paid it back, he didn't dare to throw it away. It wasn't just an IOU; it was the most important stepping stone on his life's journey.

The saying "a drop of water in need is repaid with a spring of water" is engraved in the bones of every person on the land of China.

But Qi Tongwei couldn't get the money!

He was stuck in a remote mountain valley, unable to even secure a deputy section chief position, and was too ashamed to even go home for the New Year.

Those who pooled their money to support him, those who stood at the village entrance to see him off, are still waiting for him to bring glory to his ancestors.

In the original drama, Qi Tongwei finally stood on Lone Eagle Ridge—the place where his dream began, and also the place where his dream shattered.

He didn't even go back to his hometown, not because he didn't want to, but because he was too ashamed to. Perhaps committing suicide was a relief for him.

Yang Fan pushed the car window open a crack. A blast of cold air rushed in, filling his neck.

He took a deep breath.

The hardest thing to bear in this world is never the kindness of a beautiful woman, but the eyes behind you that hope you will get better and better.

He couldn't control Qi Tongwei, nor did he have the ability to untangle Liang Qunfeng's predicament. But he could manage Qingping, ensuring that the more than 10,000 people in Qingping Township no longer had to live the life of selling chickens to pay for their school fees.

What if we go even higher? We could make life easier for even more people.

This is what he should do after transmigrating here. He should serve as an official and bring benefits to the people in his jurisdiction. This is not just a casual remark!

His significance lies in ensuring that tragedies like Qi Tongwei's never happen again, and in making life better for the people of this country.

This time, the bus went directly to the supply and marketing cooperative in Qingping Township, saving us from having to take a tractor ride.

Yang Fan came down carrying his bag, his feet kicking up a layer of dust as he stepped onto the gravel road.

Across the street was a firecracker stall owned by Su Jianjun from Wangjiaping. He saw Yang Fan from afar and shouted, "Mayor! Happy New Year!"

Yang Fan waved to him. "Uncle Jianjun, Happy New Year to you too! Did the payment for the walnuts arrive?"

"We're here! We're here!" Su Jianjun's eyes almost disappeared with his smile. "I checked as soon as the credit union opened on the sixth day of the new year, and not a penny was missing! Damn it, this is the first time in my life that I've had more than four figures in my passbook."

He paused, then rubbed his nose with his sleeve. "Township head, the old folks in our village all say that life is getting better every day. It's all thanks to you."

Yang Fan waved his hand. "I wouldn't dare say that. It was a unified plan by the township party committee, the correct leadership of the county, and most importantly, yourselves were willing to believe in it and work hard. I just made a few trips."

"Yes, yes, you're absolutely right!" Su Jianjun laughed heartily, patting his knees with his rough hands. "But we know who made those trips, who went door-to-door trying to persuade us to pool our walnuts together to sell.

Yang Fan did not respond.

He patted Su Jianjun's broad shoulder. This old man was also a stubborn fellow; everyone who saw him last year had a headache.

Now that I've seen him, he's all smiles.

In the township government compound, several offices were still in shifts. People would occasionally rush through carrying documents, and when they saw Yang Fan, they would stop, nod with a smile, and say, "Happy New Year, Township Head."

Just as I reached the top of the stairs, I heard Wu Xiang's loud voice from upstairs: "Old Zhou! You wield that mop like you're writing calligraphy! You've smeared the floor with it!"

"Secretary, I call this art; you wouldn't understand."

"Art my ass! Hurry up, there's still one area over there that hasn't been finished!"

Yang Fan went upstairs. In the corridor, Wu Xiang, wearing an old jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, was holding a broom and directing six or seven cadres to clean.

Zhao Dayong squatted by the windowsill, wiping the glass with a rag. He exhaled a puff of white breath, rubbed the glass vigorously twice, and then exhaled again.

Wu Xiang turned around, saw Yang Fan, and immediately a smile appeared on his face. "Oh, our Township Head Yang is back! How was your vacation? How was the scenery at Yantai Mountain?"

"That's good." Yang Fan walked to the wall, picked up another broom leaning against the corner, and went to Wu Xiang's side. The ground was covered with torn old newspapers and cigarette ash, trampled into a mess.

"Everyone's working overtime during the New Year holidays, you've all worked hard." Wu Xiang slammed the broom on the ground and swept around everyone. "But to ensure everyone has a good mood for starting work tomorrow and doesn't have to worry about cleaning, let's work a little harder today. Tonight, I'll treat everyone to a good meal, and I'll personally buy another case of authentic Handong Daqu liquor!"

Upon hearing "Handong Daqu," everyone's arms, which were wielding mops, immediately felt stronger. Sun Xiaohong turned around and smiled: "Secretary Wu, last time you said you'd treat us to a big meal, but you ended up having Old Zhou from the canteen cook an extra dish of garlic sprouts stir-fried with cured pork."

"That's different!" Wu Xiang said without batting an eye. "Today is before the fifteenth of the lunar month, the New Year celebrations aren't over yet! We absolutely have to have fish, meat, and wine!"

Yang Fan swept the broom across the ground a couple of times, following Wu Xiang's broom marks, and swept away the scraps of paper. "Secretary, I came back today right on time. I'm here to mooch a meal from you first. I'm going to make sure I get my money's worth, then I'll work hard this afternoon."

"No problem!" Wu Xiang waved his hand generously, "As long as you, Yang Fan, work hard, you can eat at my dorm every day, not just for one meal!"

He grabbed Yang Fan's shoulder, lowered his voice, and said with a hint of roguishness, "But speaking of which, you look like you've lost weight after your trip to Yantai Mountain? Didn't you spend the New Year properly at home?"

"Hahaha, I can't hide it from you, Secretary Wu!"

"Hey kid, pay attention!"

Yang Fan smiled, his broom still in hand. "We'll talk later."

Wu Xiang glanced at him but didn't ask any further questions.

He loosened his grip on Yang Fan's shoulder, wiped the dust off his trousers, and raised his voice, shouting to everyone in the corridor, "Comrades! Let's put in some extra effort! Tonight, let's have a good drink! May our Qingping Township get better year after year, may every household earn money, may everyone have meat to eat, and may every child have access to education!"

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion in the corridor as mops, rags, and brooms were swung faster.

Yang Fan gripped the broom and kept up with Wu Xiang's pace. He was using significantly more force in his hands than when he first started.