Traveling Through Those Years Of Farming (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 23

“Huo’s family is no longer a good option.” On Jiang Chengshi’s usually honest, simple face appeared a trace of ridicule and satisfaction.

Huo’s family used to be so arrogant, yet now their only son’s future was ruined—what future could the Huo family possibly have? As the saying went, people scatter when the tree falls, tea cools when the person leaves. 

Once Huo Xiongying and Yu Nan retired, with such a useless son, the Huo family would only decline further.

Jiang Chengshi considered himself farsighted. He absolutely could not marry his only niece into the Huo family.

True, marrying into the Huo family now would allow him to obtain many valuable connections from Huo Xiongying and Yu Nan. But he wanted a backing that would last, not in-laws who might prosper for a dozen years at most before running out of strength.

Jiang Mingmiao still felt unwilling. Huo Jun was one of the rare men who treated her indifferently, and she truly wanted to see what he looked like now. Could he still maintain his arrogance?

Ever since Jiang Mingt­ing left home and truly cut off contact—including not informing the family even about her marriage—Jiang Chengshi and Wang Juan became even stricter with the only child left under their knees. Their control grew to the point of distortion.

They seemed terrified she would rebel against them like Jiang Mingt­ing did.

Thus, once Jiang Chengshi spoke, Jiang Mingmiao did not dare show any displeasure. She only nodded obediently.

“The new political commissar assigned to our military district, Commissar Ou, has a son and daughter. His son is older and is said to be outstanding—he was admitted to the provincial university in the very first year after the reinstatement of the college entrance exam.”

Commissar Ou, whom Jiang Chengshi spoke of, had been implicated during the most chaotic years. His entire family had been sent to a farm for labor reform. Although he was roughly the same age as Jiang Chengshi, his physical condition was at least ten years worse. Everyone said that the commissar position he now held was a form of compensation from above.

After all, Commissar Ou’s father—also recently rehabilitated—was no ordinary figure. Even giving him the commissar position was considered beneath him.

Jiang Chengshi and Commissar Ou followed the same political path, but they had no competitive relationship. In fact, because their promotion routes were similar, if Commissar Ou, who was ahead, was willing to help, Jiang Chengshi’s path upward would be much easier.

Moreover, Ou’s son majored in political science, clearly preparing for a future in politics.

To Jiang Chengshi, the Ou family was a better choice than the current Huo family.

Jiang Mingmiao had also learned some things about the Ou family and was already willing. Although she still felt unwilling about Huo Jun, she was clear-headed enough to know that the Ou family’s son was her best option.

Coincidentally, the farm where the Ou family had been sent for labor reform back then was located in Xin­hong Commune—the commune that Xiagou Village’s production team belonged to.

As in many romance-novel tropes, Lin Rui had originally approached those persecuted youths with the intention of clinging to someone powerful, but by a twist of fate, she developed genuine feelings with one of the boys.

That youth—the same young man now targeted by the Jiang family—was currently Lin Rui’s boyfriend.

The two had shared hardships and supported each other through the first reinstated national college entrance exam. Now both studying in the provincial capital, their relationship was very stable.

Perhaps due to that fated attraction between protagonists, Ou Shuqing loved Lin Rui deeply—deep enough to defy his parents for her.

The Jiang family always calculated their plans with great confidence, but they always chose the wrong people. 

Most likely, the will of the world would soon teach that fake white lotus and fake “Honest Jiang” uncle-and-nephew pair a harsh lesson.

This year’s All-Army Competition saw the Xihuai Military Region sweeping through the personal events.

Within a few days, every army unit participating in the drills knew that Xihuai had a secret trump card—a soldier nicknamed “the Crybaby Grim Reaper.”

She was the type who looked weak, as if a single punch could snap her in half—but once on the field, she beat you until you suspected life itself.

Her viciousness could be tolerated, but the moment you so much as grazed her skin, her tears poured like rain. She cried while thrashing you. And when you couldn’t take it anymore and surrendered—covered in bruises—this victor could cry beside you even louder than you did.

Gradually, she earned the nickname “Crybaby Grim Reaper.”

Unsurprisingly, the women’s championship was hers.

At first, this nickname only circulated among the female soldiers. The men did not take it seriously—not because they looked down on women, but because men and women had a huge difference in physical strength. This gap was difficult to bridge even with training.

An outstanding female soldier might not win against an untrained man with excellent natural physical strength. It was even more impossible when the male competitors here were elites selected from various regions—the top of the top. How could they admit defeat to a woman?

However, when the high-ranking officers heard the Xihuai commanding officer boasting about their “secret weapon,” they suddenly felt curious and proposed letting the men’s and women’s champions fight.

Thus, the men gained the opportunity to fully understand the terrifying power of the “Crybaby Grim Reaper.”

The male soldier she faced brought a sense of danger comparable to Yu Nan’s. As a strict soldier, he did not underestimate her. 

Before the match, he studied Baobao’s tactics and knew her strength was greater than normal. To win, he thought it best not to let her take the initiative or make physical contact.

He still miscalculated.

Baobao’s strength was not simply “greater than the average woman.”

Over the years, besides improving her reflexes and endurance, she had also increased her control over her strange strength.

Otherwise, with force strong enough to kill a wild boar with one punch, those soldiers would have been breaking arms and legs instead of merely ending up bruised.

In her match with the male soldier, Baobao controlled her power at first—using one-tenth of her full strength. Later, she raised it to fifteen percent.

At the last moment, when she lifted him into the air and spun him eight and a half rotations until he vomited midair, she briefly lost control and used twenty percent.

Once she confirmed he had lost the ability to resist, Baobao placed him on the ground, rolled up her sleeves, and looked at her reddened elbows—swollen from blocking two powerful whipping kicks.

Her tears flowed instantly and freely. 

Compared to the man lying limp and nauseated beside her, questioning his life, Baobao fully solidified her title as the Crybaby Grim Reaper.

In this All-Army exercise, Baobao not only showed superhuman ability in close combat. In the shooting event, she also broke records and won the sharpshooter title.

Although Xihuai Military Region’s team performance was not particularly outstanding, Baobao’s presence made them shine. Even national leaders heard about this female soldier king.

The not-yet-influential Sports Bureau even considered bringing her to participate in weightlifting or shooting in the next Olympics.

Because of her outstanding performance, Baobao was promoted from sergeant to captain when she returned—an impressive achievement for her age.

Yu Nan, still suffering from the blow of her son’s situation, poured all her energy into Baobao. She had decided to train Baobao as her successor. 

The elite women’s special forces unit, entrusted with high expectations, must be handed to a woman qualified enough.

Carrying such expectations, Baobao felt pain and joy together.

She loved the noble career of the people’s soldier, and she cherished an experience completely different from her past lives. But that didn’t stop her from adding another tick mark against Huo Jun in her private grievance ledger whenever she was trained like a half-dead dog.

Winter arrived without snow, but Huo Jun still returned in early December—when everyone was already wearing thick cotton jackets.

The people in the military compound had not seen him in a long time. 

Compared to the crew cut, tough-faced young man he had been, the current Huo Jun had undergone a dramatic transformation.

First, his hair had grown out. Styled in the popular Hong Kong–Taiwan three-seven parted look, the way he flicked his hair had the shadow of young Aaron Kwok. The previously sharp lines of his face were now softened—everything looked just right.

While everyone bundled themselves like bears in winter, Huo Jun wore only a thin cashmere sweater under a shearling-lined denim coat with large pockets on both lapels, one with a pair of black aviator sunglasses hanging from it—flashy and bold.

He wore matching flared pants, white Hui Li sneakers, carried a large bag and dragged a suitcase, walking openly down the main road of the compound.

The elders all shook their heads internally.

They thought he truly was ruined. Looking like this—he was no different from some idle street punk.

But the younger generation had the exact opposite reaction—they screamed in their hearts. Such fashionable clothes were only seen in Hong Kong movies. Where did he buy them?

Those aviator sunglasses were too cool. Those flared pants were too stylish.

Under everyone’s gaze, Huo Jun finally reached his family’s small Western-style house.

“Xiao… Xiao Zhun?” The guard at the door almost failed to recognize him.

Huo Jun greeted them calmly and walked inside.

He knew he was both handsome and fashionable now. Everyone staring at him was normal.

“Comrade Commander, Xiao Zhun is back!”Before he could enter, the orderly who heard the movement rushed into the house to report happily.

“Aren’t you coming back after it snows next year?”

Following Yu Nan and her husband outside, Baobao couldn’t help closing her eyes the moment she saw him.

Who was this tacky, flashy man? Her eyes felt assaulted!

“Next year?”

Huo Jun looked confused for a moment, then recalled the conversation with Zhen Baoli the day he left. His smile instantly froze.

Seeing his expression, Baobao immediately understood.

Back then, she had been confused hearing the recording. It wasn’t his voice at all, but silly Baoli had sworn he recorded it exactly.

Turns out a recorder in the hands of an unserious owner wasn’t trustworthy.

“I’m back.” Huo Jun spoke softly to the people before him.

During the five months away, he had found the career he truly wanted and achieved results. But while gaining professional satisfaction, he also missed his family like crazy.

At this moment, seeing his parents and Baobao, his wandering heart finally settled completely.

“You still remember how to come home!” Yu Nan exploded, marched forward, and pulled his ear—every mother’s unbeatable secret move.

“It hurts hurts hurts hurts!”

His handsomeness lasted three seconds. Bent over, he let himself be dragged inside by his ear, avoiding the curious stares of neighbors peeking around.

“I’m back.” Passing by Baobao, Huo Jun silently mouthed the words.

Those words were meant just for her.

“Brother Ou, your girlfriend is really spoiled by you. How could she bear to let you bring her meals every day? If it were me, I’d never let my boyfriend work so hard.” Jiang Mingmiao blocked Ou Qingshu’s path, her expression gentle and sympathetic.

Lin Rui had just stepped out of the office and, seeing the two standing together looking like a matching pair, wore a gloomy expression.