Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Reborn in 1980
Chapter 1: Reborn in 1980
When Deng Shirong opened his eyes again, he saw an old, worn-out table that would be rejected even as firewood. On the table was a kerosene lamp, its transparent glass cylinder casting a dim light from a small flame inside.
Across the table sat a thin, middle-aged man named Deng YunGui. In Deng Shirong’s memory, this distant nephew had died nearly twenty years ago.
Deng YunGui was holding a water pipe in one hand and skillfully stuffing tobacco into the mouthpiece with the other. Once the tobacco was in place, he picked up the kerosene lamp to light it, then began to puff on the pipe with a series of "gulps."
This scene made Deng Shirong’s eyelids twitch. It felt like a dream.
After a few puffs, Deng YunGui put down the water pipe and looked at Deng Shirong. "Uncle Jiu, they say the bold never go hungry while the timid starve. Last summer, the Shilong Brigade had many people start household contracting and diversified their operations, making a fortune."
"Uncle Jiu, if those who took the lead aren’t afraid, what do we have to fear by following them?"
Hearing this, Deng Shirong remembered. This must be 1980, when his nephew Deng YunGui wanted to partner with him, the master potter, to take over the village’s kiln.
So, he must have been reborn back to 1980?
"Uncle Jiu, don’t hesitate. Let’s do it together!"
Deng YunGui’s urging brought Deng Shirong back to reality. He pondered for a moment and said, "YunGui, this is a big decision. Let me think about it and give you my answer tomorrow."
Deng YunGui didn’t expect Uncle Jiu to agree on the spot. A decision by tomorrow was already fast enough. He nodded quickly. "Alright, Uncle Jiu, take your time. I have some things to do, so I’ll head back now!"
"Sure."
As soon as Deng YunGui left, seven people of various heights entered the room. They were none other than Deng Shirong’s seven children.
The moment he saw his eldest son, Deng YunTai, Deng Shirong, who had remained calm despite the realization of his rebirth, couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion.
It had been 44 years since he last saw his steady and reliable eldest son.
In his previous life, he had partnered with Deng YunGui to take over the village kiln and rename it the Pottery Factory.
In August of that year, a matchmaker introduced his eldest son, Deng YunTai, to a girl from a neighboring commune. On the way to meet her, an accident occurred...
Thinking about the pain of burying his son, Deng Shirong felt a sharp pang in his heart. The loss of his eldest son was the greatest regret of his life.
"Dad, what did Brother YunGui want to talk about?" The dim light in the room prevented Deng YunTai from noticing his father’s unusual state.
Deng Shirong calmed himself and said, "He wants to partner with me to take over the village kiln."
Deng YunTai’s eyes lit up. "Dad, that’s great news. Did you agree?"
Deng Shirong shook his head. "Not yet."
Deng YunTai thought for a moment. "Dad, are you worried about the political climate?"
Deng Shirong smiled. "I’m not worried about the political climate. My main concern is that I don’t see a bright future for the pottery business, so I didn’t agree right away."
As he spoke, Deng Shirong couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. In his previous life, he and Deng YunGui had run the pottery factory together. The business had been decent in the first few years, not making them rich but allowing them to enjoy meat every now and then.
Unfortunately, the good times didn’t last. As society progressed, durable alternatives to large items like jars and small items like basins and bowls became available. Pottery, which broke easily, gradually lost its market.
If Deng Shirong's memory served him right, he and Deng YunGui started operating the kiln in 1980. By 1987, business at the kiln began to decline. They managed to keep it running for three more years, but by then, the kiln was already losing money and eventually shut down.
Deng YunTai was taken aback by his father's reasoning. After graduating high school, he had followed his father to learn the craft of making large jars, dedicating over two years to his apprenticeship. It wasn't until the end of last year that he had officially become a qualified master of the craft.
Now, his father, who had taught him the skills step by step, was saying that the future of the kiln business was bleak?
"Jars and tiles are essential in our daily lives. Logically, this industry should have a bright future. Dad, what makes you think it won't have a good future?"
Deng Shirong replied, "It's just a guess. For now, this industry is still quite profitable."
Hearing this, Deng YunTai breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good to know."
"Father, do you still plan to partner with Brother YunGui to take over the village kiln?" asked the second son, Deng YunHeng.
Deng Shirong had five sons and two daughters. The five sons were named after the Five Great Mountains: the eldest, Deng YunTai, was 20 years old and had a high school education. The second son, Deng YunHeng, was 16 and in his first year of high school. The third son, Deng YunSong, was 12 and in the fifth grade of elementary school. The fourth son, Deng YunHua, was 10 and in the third grade. The youngest son, Deng YunHeng, was 8 and in the first grade.
The two daughters were named after pearls: the elder daughter, Deng YunZhen, was 18 and had completed junior high school. The younger daughter, Deng YunZhu, was 14 and had completed elementary school.
"We will probably still partner up, but I need to think about how to proceed," Deng Shirong said. "It's getting late. Everyone, go to bed now!"
"Okay!" the children responded, and they shuffled off to their rooms in the dark.
After watching his children return to their rooms, Deng Shirong carried the kerosene lamp back to his own room. The scent of earth and linen filled the air, bringing him an unprecedented sense of peace. He placed the lamp on a stool and sat down by the bed to examine his new "golden finger."
When he had been reborn, Deng Shirong had sensed something different in his mind, but he was in the middle of talking with his nephew, Deng YunGui, and the shock of his rebirth had temporarily distracted him from this new presence.
Now, with some spare time, he could finally investigate it properly.
After a few minutes of study, Deng Shirong's expression turned curious. The function of his "golden finger" was somewhat unexpected.
It was called the Matchmaker Reward System, and it was currently at version 1.0. Its sole function was to provide a tenfold reward for any money or items he earned as a matchmaker.
In simpler terms, for every unit of money or goods he earned as a matchmaker, the Matchmaker Reward System would give him ten times the amount.
"This is forcing me to become a matchmaker!" Deng Shirong couldn't help but remark.
If he were twenty years younger, he might have considered abandoning the matchmaker's path and venturing out on his own, using his 44 years of additional memory to make a name for himself. However, even with the chance to return to 1980, he was already 44 years old and had long lost the ambition to wander far from home. With the help of his golden finger, staying in the village and living a peaceful life as a matchmaker seemed like a good choice.
PS: Fellow readers, I'm back! The journey of my new book is uncertain, but I hope you will continue to support me. Thank you!
(End of Chapter)
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