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

On October 9th, while Qi Tongwei was still recovering in the hospital, Yang Fan had already returned to Ninghe County and resumed his work as usual.

Entrusted by Liu Xiangdong and Su Shunda, he was responsible for leading a team to Qinghua District of Jinghai City on the Han River to investigate the operation of Xiaolingtong (a type of mobile phone service).

Upon hearing about the Han River and Jinghai City, Yang Fan's heart stirred, and he wanted to take out his phone to check the information, but unfortunately, the phone at that time was still very rudimentary.

The website address can only be found on NetEase and Sohu, and there are only about one million netizens there. Baidu hasn't even been established yet, let alone Baidu Encyclopedia.

So the only option is to go and see for yourself if they are the characters or plot points you saw in your past life.

After a long, bumpy bus ride, the group finally arrived at the Qinghua District Guesthouse in Jinghai City late at night. After giving their names, they checked in according to their reservation. The bumpy bus ride had made everyone go to sleep early.

Because he went to bed early the night before, Yang Fan woke up before dawn the next day and reached for his watch on the bedside table—it was 5:30.

He put on his coat and quietly opened the door.

The corridor was quiet, the doors to the next few rooms were all closed, and my companions were still asleep.

Yang Fan went downstairs. The receptionist on night shift was dozing off at her desk. She looked up when she heard footsteps and rubbed her eyes.

"Comrade, could you tell me about a place?" Yang Fan walked over. "Is the Old Factory Street Market far from here?"

The waiter yawned and pointed east. "It's not far. Just go out the door and walk east, it's two intersections away. You've come at the perfect time, the morning market is bustling."

In October, the morning breeze in Jinghai carried a damp, fishy smell.

This small coastal town in the south is awakening. Breakfast stalls along the street are opening one after another. Yang Fan bought a pancake from a roadside stall and ate it as he walked.

The pancake contains crispy fried dough sticks and an egg, and is brushed with a layer of sweet bean sauce. It makes a crunchy sound when you bite into it.

After turning the second corner, the sign for the Old Factory Street Market hangs between two cement poles, the red paint on the metal sign already faded.

The market is open-air, with plastic sheds on both sides, and under the sheds are rows of terrazzo countertops.

The first stall at the market entrance was a fish stall, with several large basins on a terrazzo table, containing crucian carp, common carp, grass carp, and a few sea fish whose names he couldn't recall.

The large oxygen pump was bubbling away, a rare sight for a vendor with such a large investment.

The stall owner was a man in his early thirties, busy working with his back to the stall.

He was wearing a faded dark blue thermal shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his two lean but muscular forearms.

With his left hand holding down the head of a carp, he slapped the blade against the fish's head with his right, and the fish stopped moving. Then he scaled, gutted, and removed the internal organs—a series of fluid movements, performed without even glancing at the fish.

interesting!

Although the fishmonger was hunched over and had his head down, his earnestness was unlike that of an ordinary fishmonger.

Yang Fan took two steps forward, changed his angle, and finally saw the person's profile clearly.

He had a square face, thick eyebrows, a high nose bridge, and a generally expressionless face, but his cheekbones were clenched tightly.

Young man Gao Qiqiang!

So this Jinghai is the same as that Jinghai, and Linjiang is the Hanjiang River!

He stood there motionless, clutching the oil paper left over from eating the pancake, as if he had returned to his past life, watching a TV series.

Hanjiang Province is a window to reform and opening up, and Jinghai, a small city, is the port at the forefront of that window.

The people here don't complain, and they don't look down on the dirty work and low pay. They rush to any opportunity they see, and once they're in, they work themselves to the bone.

This was the underlying engine of the economic boom in southern China during the 1990s.

What did they rely on? They relied on the indomitable spirit of these ordinary people.

When some neighbors and fellow villagers got rich first, those who came later were not convinced and developed a deep-seated rebellious spirit, which is why Hanjiang has always been one step ahead of others for the past twenty years.

Gao Qiqiang looked up and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. He paused, then saw a man about his age, wearing a clean white shirt, standing motionless in front of his stall, clutching a wad of oil paper in his hand.

Gao Qiqiang wiped his hands on his apron, his lips moved, and he managed to squeeze out a sentence: "Hello, comrade, are you here to buy fish?"

Yang Fan shook his head. "I just came to check on things. You go about your business."

Gao Qiqiang scratched his head. He looked down at his rain boots and the half-eaten basin of fish on the cutting board, then looked up again, as if he was thinking about something.

Then he put down the knife, rubbed his hands on his apron a couple of times, bent down and fished out a cleaned crucian carp strung on a straw rope from under the counter.

The fish wasn't big, just over a pound, and its scales were cleaned off. The gills had been removed, and its eyes were still bright and shiny, clearly indicating that it had been freshly killed.

"Someone wanted this fish, but they haven't come back to pay for it in ages, and I can't leave it here any longer."

"You look kind, so I'll give it to you. Take it home and make a soup with some tofu; it'll be delicious."

He handed the fish over, and it swung twice on the straw rope.

Yang Fan quickly waved his hand. "How can that be? You're in business, selling it is still money. Why don't you give me a price, and I'll buy it?"

"It's worthless, really worthless." Gao Qiqiang shoved the fish into Yang Fan's hand. His voice wasn't loud, but his grip was firm, showing no intention of refusing.

"We look about the same age, and I feel an instant connection with you. These fish are hard to sell if I leave them here, so you taking them is a favor to me."

Before Yang Fan could say anything more, Gao Qiqiang had already shoved the fish into his hand.

Yang Fan took out five yuan from his pocket, secretly put it on the stall, and seeing that it was getting late, he went home first.

On the way, he remembered the movie "The Storm" that he had read in his previous life.

Gao Qiqiang, who seemed to have absolute power, would go to the market before dawn every day to buy fish. His hands would be covered in frostbite and cuts from cleaning the fish, but he would wrap them with tape and keep going, all to raise money for his younger brother's tuition.

Gao Qiqiang and Qi Tongwei, one gutting fish in the market and the other risking his life in a drug den, were both people who were terrified of poverty and wanted to climb up the social ladder by their own efforts. Later, they both reached the top of their lives, but their endings were not good.

Back at the guesthouse, the receptionist had changed shifts, and a round-faced young girl was wiping the counter. Yang Fan placed the fish on the counter.

"Young man, could you please take this to the kitchen and make some fish soup for everyone? We can have a nice breakfast to nourish them."

The young girl picked up the fish and examined it. "Wow, this fish is so clean! Did you buy it this morning, boss?"

"It was a gift from the fish stall owner," Yang Fan said.

The young girl paused for a moment, then smiled. "That's just how people from Jinghai are, so honest. He gave you fish because you look kind."

She took the fish to the kitchen. Yang Fan went upstairs, where several of his entourage were already awake and taking notes around the coffee table in the office of Yang Tao, the deputy director of the county government office.

It was a bit hot, so Yang Tao unbuttoned two buttons on his shirt and sat on the edge of the bed, flipping through information on the deployment of Jinghai Xiaolingtong base stations, preparing to plan his route.

The group drank a large bowl of hot fish soup and rested for a while.

"Let's go, let's get to the Qinghua District government as soon as possible and get to work!"

Yang Fan glanced at his watch, then stood up and said.