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Chapter 38: Fengyuan Town
The town wasn’t exactly what one would call a model township. At first glance, it looked no different from the other settlements they’d passed through in the west—equally quiet, equally cluttered.
There was no sign that a relief unit had set up camp here.
Fengyuan Town was small, just a few streets crisscrossing each other. Li Xingyuan recognized it; they were now within Jiangcheng’s administrative region, and he’d conducted several interviews here before. The entire town revolved around what used to be the Confucian temple and government office, now repurposed as the town hall, school, and hospital. Aside from this bustling street, the real heart of activity lay a few kilometers outside the town at the copper mine.
This place was called Fengyuan Town, and the mine was known as Fengyuan Mine. Contrary to popular assumption, the town hadn’t come first—it was the mine that birthed the settlement. The copper deposit was an exceptionally rich vein, rare even by global standards. According to local records, it had once been a massive open-pit mine, brimming with not only copper but also traces of gold and silver. For centuries, it had served as the hub of Jiangxi Province’s copper industry, supplying raw materials to some of China’s most famous historical mints via river transport.
But all good things must come to an end. Once the surface deposits were depleted, mining became increasingly costly. Workers were forced deeper into labyrinthine tunnels, where unstable rock formations and complex branching paths made extraction perilous and inefficient. Though the reserves remained substantial, the operation was no longer economically viable. After the founding of the People’s Republic, Fengyuan County was downgraded to a mere town.
These days, while the mine still existed, its operations were minimal. Further excavation required digging too deep, making it both dangerous and impractical. Only slow, steady work on existing layers continued.
Li Xingyuan’s last visit had been to cover Fengyuan Town’s efforts to revive itself after the decline of mining. With mineral wealth no longer driving the economy, the local government had turned to tourism. They’d hastily restored the old Confucian temple and county offices for this purpose. As for how successful these efforts had been, Li Xingyuan didn’t know—he hadn’t followed up since his previous report.
Still, despite low expectations, Li Xingyuan led Old Liu and Lin Song toward the town hall. There were no guards at the entrance, so the three walked straight in. It wasn’t until they reached the inner courtyard that they encountered a young woman carrying a thermos, leisurely pushing open a door and stepping out.
Seeing their disheveled appearance, the bespectacled girl blinked in surprise, as if startled. Then she waved her hand dismissively. “There’s nothing to eat here. I’ll grab you two steamed buns and a cup of water from the cafeteria. You should look elsewhere.”
Li Xingyuan felt a flicker of recognition. He rummaged through his fragmented memories—so much had happened since the anomaly began that he could barely recall life before it.
“Li Dan… Is that your name?”
The girl froze, then stared intently at Li Xingyuan.
He wiped his face with his muddy hands, attempting to clear away the grime, but only succeeded in smearing more dirt across his cheeks. Giving up, he sighed and said, “It’s me, Li Xingyuan, journalist from Jiangcheng Daily.”
“Mr. Li?” Li Dan squinted suspiciously at his face. Despite the passage of time, people tended to remember Li Xingyuan’s peculiar name. “Where are your glasses? And what’s wrong with your eyes?”
“I’m not actually nearsighted,” he explained, brushing his unruly hair back. “I used to wear plain lenses, but now I’ve got colored contacts.” Maybe I should wear sunglasses later to hide them. He thought to himself and gave a sheepish grin. “Do you remember me?”
Li Dan studied him for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “It really is you, Mr. Li!”
“Wait right there!” She clutched her thermos and dashed upstairs. “I’ll go get our party secretary!”
Before Li Xingyuan could stop her, she disappeared up the staircase.
“Mr. Li certainly has connections everywhere,” Lin Song remarked. “You seem to know someone wherever we go.”
“That’s about the only perk of being a journalist,” Li Xingyuan replied with a weary smile. “Looks like things here might be better than we thought.”
The town official who greeted them was Chen Yingyao, transferred over from Jiangcheng City Hall. In his mid-thirties, he was already balding and had put on weight, though he couldn’t yet be considered middle-aged. His belt was cinched tightly around his waist. Upon seeing Li Xingyuan, he immediately pulled him into an embrace.
“Mr. Li,” Chen Yingyao said earnestly. “You’ve been through so much.”
Li Xingyuan barely knew the man, let alone well enough for such familiarity, so the gesture left him slightly uncomfortable. But Chen Yingyao seemed unfazed. He released Li Xingyuan and glanced at him, tears glistening in his eyes. “You’ve worked hard, Mr. Li. I’ve arranged clean clothes for you. Go take a shower, change, and I’ll treat you to our local specialty—beer duck.”
Beer duck was a regional delicacy born from the miners’ hearty appetites. The dish consisted of fatty duck cooked in a heavy, salty broth, often requiring vinegar to cut through the richness. While Li Xingyuan usually avoided such greasy fare, hearing Chen Yingyao describe it now made his mouth water uncontrollably. To his embarrassment, he swallowed audibly under everyone’s watchful gaze.
Chen Yingyao merely patted his shoulder and instructed someone to lead Li Xingyuan, Old Liu, and Lin Song to the showers.
Fengyuan Town’s level of organization was surprisingly high. Apart from those who were gravely ill or deceased, nearly half the town officials were already back at work, resuming their duties.
The showers were modest, designed for on-duty personnel. There were only two rooms, each equipped with two showerheads. Originally separated by gender, necessity had overridden convention during these trying times. Old Liu and Li Xingyuan shared one room, while Lin Song took the other.
“Are you close with the town’s party secretary?” Old Liu asked as warm water cascaded over them.
“No, not really,” Li Xingyuan replied, tilting his head back to enjoy the soothing heat. “Last time I was here, I dealt with someone from the propaganda department. We met briefly at a dinner.”
“Hmm,” Old Liu murmured gravely. “Stay cautious. Trust no one.”
Li Xingyuan nodded. Of course, he understood.
Chen Yingyao’s attentiveness bordered on excessive. He couldn’t fathom what he’d done to warrant such treatment from the man.
But for now, the warmth of the water was blissful. Li Xingyuan cranked the temperature up as far as it would go, yet it remained lukewarm—a reminder of the limited resources available.
In this rare moment of comfort, time slipped away unnoticed. It had been ages since Li Xingyuan had experienced something as simple and pure as a hot shower.
Just then, the sound of Old Liu’s showerhead shutting off broke the tranquility. In a hushed voice, almost imperceptible, Old Liu whispered, “Mr. Li, there’s someone outside.”
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