Chapter 28: Truly Dark!

This was a gold coin. Its age and specifications were unknown to us, but gold was a treasure in any era. Fatty stared at the coin and asked, “Can it buy a cow?”

Yuan Xiaobai, born to a wealthy family, was more knowledgeable than us country bumpkins who only knew gold was valuable, but had no idea how much it was worth. She weighed it in her hand and said, “About fifty grams. It’s worth more than that tiger—three cows, easily.”

“Good heavens, three cows.” Fatty immediately gave a thumbs up to Zha Wenbin. “Master Zha, with you on this, everything will be settled.”

Fatty’s confidence was not unfounded. In those turbulent times, with complicated international affairs, our country lacked foreign exchange and precious metals. Gold, as hard currency, was highly sought after in the market. A single coin might not mean much, but the significance behind it was uncertain. Who could guarantee there weren’t more coins beneath other ponds?

That night, Zha Wenbin and Fatty went to the Party Secretary’s house. In less than ten minutes, the Secretary returned with them, beaming, carrying a heavy net bag filled with canned goods and fruit.

“My, you kids have been in our village for half a year now. From the moment you arrived, I could tell you were educated, with high ideological standards, eager to respond to the leader’s call to come learn here. You’re always at the front of the line for production and construction—a fine group of youngsters. I’ll be sure to report to the organization and get you a model worker award.” He tossed the bag onto the table, lit a cigarette, and, for the first time, asked if we wanted one.

Fatty, without ceremony, took a cigarette and lit it. He eyed the goods the Secretary had brought, and I saw his throat move in a swallow, though his face maintained its composure. “Old Secretary, you really don’t know how hard it’s been for us. The production team leader said we weren’t fishing for the collective, and wants to dock our work points for these past days. What do you think about that?”

The Secretary stubbed his cigarette on the table, scowling. “Liu Damao’s lost his mind. You’re pumping water for the irrigation canals every day—can he not see that? Working day and night, how can they treat comrades like this? I’ll go teach him a lesson. Don’t worry, your work points won’t be docked.”

Fatty squinted, took another puff, and asked, “So we’ll keep pumping water at night?”

The Secretary waved his hand. “You’re working overtime for the great harvest of socialism. Of course, you should get extra work points. Here’s what I’ll do: each of you gets an extra full work point per day.”

Fatty, unhurried, kept up his act. “And what about Xiaobai? Her health hasn’t been good for half a year, so the team only gives her three or four work points a day. You know we’re young and growing, and those work points aren’t enough for food. If we don’t eat enough, we can’t work well, right?”

“No problem, no problem. Everyone knows how well Comrade Yuan Xiaobai has performed since she arrived. She injured herself for the sake of the commune’s production. What is that? That’s a great and noble spirit of selfless dedication! Say no more—I already know. Tomorrow, I’ll sign off and make up all her work points.” The Secretary saw Fatty still keeping a straight face and, gritting his teeth, added, “You’ve all worked hard lately. The village has decided to give you four a half-month vacation, work points included!”

By now, Fatty had finished his cigarette. Looking at the Secretary’s trembling lips, he prepared to play his final card. He held up five fingers to the Secretary. “Anything found gets split half and half!”

The Secretary wasn’t easily fooled. He spread his hands. “I don’t have the authority. This belongs to the collective. If you take it, you’re stealing socialist gold.”

If anyone was born to negotiate, it was Fatty. He was more cunning than most, and at this moment, his rogue nature was revealed. He grabbed the gold coin from Zha Wenbin, bit it for show, and said, “That works too. Easy enough. Tomorrow I’ll broadcast over the loudspeaker that there’s gold in the pond. I guarantee all the gold will belong to the socialist collective. You won’t see a single cent—it’ll all be handed over to the state!”

The Secretary wasn’t flustered. He stood up abruptly, face stern. “What are you kids up to? This belongs to the state. None of us can touch it!”

Fatty walked over and put an arm around his shoulders, a gesture that startled me. He reached into the Secretary’s shirt pocket and pulled out a cigarette, saying, “If you had no personal interest, would you be here so late with gifts? Why not hurry to the commune committee? Isn’t this a big enough deal to telegraph the higher-ups? With your penny-pinching ways, would you really let us eat canned goods? Please…” With that, Fatty slipped the coin into the Secretary’s pocket and patted him lightly. “Revolutionary work requires clean hands, but revolutionaries still need to marry, build houses, and feed their families, right? I see your two sons are old enough—you might want to make some arrangements. Even old scholars get royalties for their books. Secretary, this is between heaven, earth, you, and me. Consider this a deposit—the rest will be settled when it’s done.”

The Secretary’s attitude immediately changed. The righteous air vanished, and he whispered, “This might not be good. There are many eyes in the village.”

Fatty pressed on, “That’s easy. If anyone does see, we’ll split it three ways: you get a share, we get a share, and the rest is handed over. You’ll get both fame and fortune. Where else could you find such a good deal?”

The Secretary was indeed a fox. Having heard enough, he struck a match to light Fatty’s cigarette, patted his shoulder, and said, “What did you say just now? I didn’t hear a thing. By the way, Wenbin, your recent performance has been impressive. The organization might even consider party membership for you!”

Zha Wenbin, full of contempt for the Secretary’s demeanor, retorted, “Do you accept blacklisted types?”

Fatty waved impatiently. “Enough, enough. Stop pretending. Go do what you need to. Just make sure there’s enough diesel!”

Once the Secretary was gone, we couldn’t wait to open the cans. In those days, even during New Year’s, you wouldn’t get a taste of such things. Those fruit cans weren’t even affordable for ordinary city folk, let alone us rural wolves—how could any be left once we got our hands on them?

After our feast, we lay on the beds, burping and rubbing our bellies in utter comfort. Days like this were rare, and even the genteel Yuan Xiaobai ate with abandon, laughing and joking with us. I truly admired Fatty; he was ruthless, shrewd, and sharp-witted.

I held up a bowl of canned fruit syrup and said to Fatty, “General Shi, tonight’s feast is on you. Cheers!”

Unexpectedly, Fatty waved his hand. “This wasn’t my idea. It was Master Zha’s. We all benefited from him. We should all toast him.”

Zha Wenbin, who had also eaten his fill, burped and replied, “I never told you to split it that way.”

Fatty popped a peanut into his mouth and chewed. “How should we split it then?”

“Whoever finds it gets a share. The four of us plus him—everyone gets a share. He can have at most twenty percent!”

Fatty gave Zha Wenbin a thumbs-up. “You’re truly ruthless!”

That night was the first time we dreamed of fortune. Although Zha Wenbin had formally paid respects to the Three Pure Ones and read the Dao De Jing, making him a young Taoist priest, he was only in his teens. In such an environment, faced with such reality, we had to think ahead, for none of us intended to stay here forever.

The water pumping continued as planned. We set up several more pumps by another pond nearby, borrowed by the Secretary after two days’ journey to another commune, all under the banner of agricultural production. Officially, it was for irrigating rice fields, but the fields were already flooded. Miao Lan and Xiaobai cooked for us, while the three of us spent all day by the pond.

The Secretary claimed the western wasteland needed clearing for corn, and moved most of the village laborers away, leaving only us on site. After five days, the powerful pumps emptied the smaller pond, which was much like the previous one: same depth, same shape, and smooth, black stone walls where not even a gecko could cling.

To avoid suspicion, we decided to go down at night. Since it was pitch black below, we readied our gear and three young prospectors descended the soft ladder…

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