Chapter 268: The Whole Clan Escapes Poverty, Passenger Transport Company
As all the watermelons in Dragon Well Village were sold out—except for Deng Shirong, who deliberately kept over a hundred for himself—every last watermelon grown by the Deng clan of Thatchfield had been sold.
The profits were substantial.
The entire Thatchfield Deng clan consisted of around 650 households, and they had sold more than 11,500 tons of watermelons in total. With a purchase price of 8 cents per kilogram, their collective income reached nearly 1.9 million yuan, averaging over 2,800 yuan per household.
After deducting costs, the net profit per household was about 2,500 yuan.
This single harvest lifted the entire Thatchfield Deng clan out of poverty.
Even the most struggling families found their financial burdens greatly eased by this windfall.
At first glance, escaping poverty doesn't seem difficult—just plant some watermelons.
And in the early 1980s, that was largely true. Whether it was growing fruit or raising livestock, as long as one had the courage to try and things went smoothly, getting out of poverty quickly was entirely possible. So why were so many people still poor in this era, with only a small fraction managing to prosper?
The answer is simple: not everyone in the countryside had the nerve to take such risks.
Take the Thatchfield Deng clan as an example. If not for the immense prestige of their clan head, Deng Shirong, and the trust he commanded, the natural progression would have been for him to plant watermelons first, reap a big harvest that year, and then have a few bold villagers follow suit the next year.
Once those followers also made money, even more would join in the third year.
Under normal circumstances, it would take at least five or six years of smooth development before hundreds of families in the clan would dare to plant watermelons on a large scale. But by then, the golden window for profit would have passed, and the risks of large-scale cultivation would be much higher—if anything went wrong, the watermelons might go unsold.
Thus, the Thatchfield Deng clan's success this year owed much to the indispensable efforts of their clan head, Deng Shirong.
Without his forceful advocacy, even if word spread about his profitable watermelon harvest the previous year, few families would have dared to follow suit. This was evident from the fact that almost no outsiders of other surnames had joined in.
The reasons are easy to understand. Though planting watermelons isn't complicated, it still demands significant labor and resources.
First, turning a mountain into a viable watermelon orchard required months of backbreaking work.
Then, after clearing the land, purchasing watermelon seeds was another major expense. For many families, buying seeds alone would exhaust their savings, and some might even need to borrow money.
These two hurdles alone deterred most would-be followers.
The Thatchfield Deng clan's collective rise out of poverty sent shockwaves through the entire Help And Correct Brigade and neighboring communities. Those who had been watching from the sidelines could no longer resist—one by one, they picked up their hoes and headed up the mountains to clear their own orchards.
The most immediate change brought by the clan's mass escape from poverty was the sudden popularity of Thatchfield Deng's young men and women in the marriage market.
…
After all the clan's watermelons were sold, Deng Shirong convened a clan meeting at the entrance of the ancestral hall.
Since he had given prior notice, emphasizing the importance of this meeting and requiring every household to send a representative, attendance was full when the time came.
Seeing everyone present, Deng Shirong took the stage and began speaking.
"Brothers, nephews, today's meeting focuses on two matters."
Without wasting words, he got straight to the point, raising one finger.
"First, regarding financial aid and scholarships. The final exam results are out now. If any family has children who meet the award criteria, bring their transcripts—signed by their homeroom teacher—to register with Teacher Changhua. Once the college entrance exam results are released, we'll hold a unified ceremony to distribute the aid and scholarships."
Though every household had profited handsomely from this year's watermelon sales, lifting all clan members out of poverty, they still placed great importance on the clan's financial aid and scholarships. These represented honor—those who earned rewards were the clan's brightest children.
Who wouldn't want to shine in front of their kin?
So, families with qualifying children responded with enthusiastic agreement.
After addressing the scholarships, Deng Shirong raised a second finger.
"The second matter: I propose establishing a passenger transport company, spearheaded by me, to lead our Thatchfield Deng clan further down the road to prosperity."
The moment these words were spoken, the crowd erupted in surprise.
Deng Changbao, Feather Ridge's wealthiest man, asked, "Clan Head, by 'passenger transport company,' do you mean operating shuttle buses?"
Deng Shirong nodded. "Exactly, shuttle buses."
With his confirmation, the gathering buzzed with discussion.
"Can buses really make money?"
"Of course! The North Sand bus passes through our village every day. I've seen it packed with passengers many times—it must rake in cash running like that daily."
"Not necessarily. I've heard there are more hoodlums around these days. Those types ride without paying. If you keep running into them, who knows if you'll even break even?"
"True. There really have been more troublemakers lately. Just a while back, I heard someone got robbed at Temple Lotus Intersection."
"Things do feel like they're getting worse these past couple of years."
"…"
After letting the clansmen debate for a while, Deng Shirong continued.
"As society develops, long-distance travel will only become more common. The shuttle bus business will undoubtedly grow—that's a certainty. But competition in this industry is fierce, and not everyone can succeed.
Take the North Sand bus, for example. If someone else starts running the same route, the two sides will compete for passengers. Conflicts will inevitably arise, and whoever has the means will try to drive the other out to monopolize the route.
So, for an individual, operating a shuttle bus is tough. Unless you have a force nobody dares provoke, survival is difficult.
But if our Thatchfield Deng clan runs the buses, these problems disappear. No individual, no matter how powerful, can stand against our 3,000-plus clansmen. If anyone dares cause trouble, a single collective spit from our clan would drown them.
Without worrying about sabotage, making money becomes simple.
Moreover, if the clan establishes a passenger transport company, we'd start with at least ten buses and expand over time.
If development goes smoothly, hundreds of buses in the future wouldn't be unusual. That would require hundreds of drivers and conductors—jobs that can be filled by our clansmen. Even if the buses themselves don't turn a profit, creating so many jobs for the clan would make it worthwhile.
And let's be honest—how could passenger transport not make money?"
Upon hearing this, the elderly former clan leader, Deng Shi'an, slapped his thigh in excitement and declared, "Old Jiu, after listening to you, this passenger transport company must be established. If it succeeds, it'll far outstrip watermelon farming!"
Deng Changxiong, the wealthiest man in Dam Brace, chimed in, "Clan Leader, you decide the plan—we'll follow your lead."
Deng Yunqiang added his support at once: "Yes, Uncle Jiu, draft the terms, and we'll all abide by them."
Other clansmen echoed their approval. Ever since Deng Shirong became clan leader, his authority had soared to unprecedented heights. Now, with the clan's watermelon windfall, his prestige eclipsed even that of the former leader, Deng Shi'an.
Seeing overwhelming support, Deng Shirong outlined his proposal: "Here's my plan. The clan's passenger transport company will operate on a shareholding system. Shares are tentatively priced at 1,000 yuan each. Each household may purchase as many as they choose. Profits will be distributed as dividends proportionate to investment.
"No need to decide now—discuss it with your families first. That said, I advise every household to buy at least one share. When the company profits, everyone should benefit. It wouldn't do for some families to miss out—that would harm unity.
"As for those wanting more shares, invest only what you can afford.
"Also, notify any clansmen working outside the village. We share the same ancestors; if there's fortune to be made, they shouldn't be left out. The choice to invest is theirs, but ensure they're informed.
"We'll finalize this during the clan's scholarship ceremony."
"Understood, Clan Leader!"
"Got it, Uncle Jiu!"
"I'll inform Uncle Man's family."
"…"
Though many clansmen itched to invest immediately, Deng Shirong's decree to wait until the scholarship ceremony left them no choice but to bide their time.
With business concluded, the meeting adjourned.
As villagers walked home in clusters, the topic dominated their chatter. At 1,000 yuan per share, the investment was substantial—without this year's watermelon profits, most clansmen could never have afforded it.
Yet the steep cost also bred hesitation. Should they buy just one share, or stake their entire savings?
…
Thatchfield Village
Back home, Deng Yunqiang gathered his family at once to discuss the transport company.
After summarizing Uncle Jiu's proposal, he lifted his pipe and asked, "So—how many shares should our family buy?"
Deng Changfu blurted out, "Dad, if Uncle Jiu's leading this, it's guaranteed to profit. We can't miss out—invest every spare cent!"
His wife nodded. "Between lychees and watermelons, we've earned over 6,000 yuan this year. We'd planned to build a new house, but with Uncle Jiu's company, we can wait. That lets us buy six shares."
Deng Changjuan agreed. "Our house is old but livable. Delay the rebuild and invest more. With Uncle Jiu's track record, the dividends alone might make us rich."
Deng Changli added fervently, "Uncle Jiu's never failed—tile factories, lychees, watermelons, the county restaurant—everything he touches turns to gold. This transport company will be no different. We have to invest heavily."
Deng Yunqiang puffed his pipe, unsurprised by his family's enthusiasm. Their prosperity stemmed from following Uncle Jiu; their faith in him was absolute.
Noticing his daughter-in-law's silence, he prompted, "A'Ying, your thoughts?"
Guan Yongying hesitated. "Father, I was wondering… should I borrow from my parents to buy extra shares?"
Deng Yunqiang startled. Their confidence in Uncle Jiu was already unshakable, yet here was his daughter-in-law, ready to seek outside funds. After a pause, he said, "A'Ying, borrowing isn't necessary. But you can inform your parents. If they're interested, they might invest two or three shares under your name.
"If profits come, they'll get their share."
Changfu's mother added, "Right—we won't lend the money, but if your parents trust the venture, they're welcome to join."
Guan Yongying beamed. "Thank you, Mother, Father. I'll visit them tomorrow."
Her parents, early adopters of Uncle Jiu's lychee farms, had prospered too—earning 2,000 yuan in prior years and over 3,000 yuan from this year's watermelons. Raising 4,000 yuan would be easy.
With her in-laws buying six shares and her parents potentially adding four, their household's ten-share stake would surely rank among the clan's highest.
…
Deng Yungui's Household
Nearby, Deng Yungui—Thatchfield's second-richest man after Deng Shirong—held a similar family council.
His joint tile factory with Uncle Jiu generated steady income, and this year's watermelons brought another windfall. Even after building a new house, he still had 18,000 yuan in cash.
After discussion, Deng Yungui resolved to invest it all—18 shares. With no major expenses looming, why hold back?
Moreover, the tile factory provided steady monthly income. Keeping just 200 or 300 yuan on hand would suffice for daily needs.
…
Feather Ridge Village
Upon returning home, Deng Changbao explained the transport company proposal to his wife.
After recounting Uncle Jiu's words, he asked, "Wife, how many shares should we buy?"
His wife, surnamed Li and nicknamed "Ah Li San" as the third daughter in her natal family, didn't answer immediately. Instead, she questioned: "Husband, do you really think this venture will profit?"
"Different trades, different gains," Deng Changbao admitted. "I know brick factories, but shuttle buses? That's beyond me." He shook his head, then added:
"But this is Uncle Jiu's plan as clan leader to enrich us all. Given his shrewdness, he wouldn't propose it without certainty. The investment's too massive—if it failed, his authority would suffer. So I'd say there's an 80% chance of success."
His reasoned analysis drew repeated nods from his wife.
Ah Li San finally said, "You're right. Uncle Jiu wouldn't lead us astray. If you trust it, let's invest all our spare funds!"
Deng Changbao agreed. "Then it's settled."
…
While clansmen debated investments at home, Deng Shirong pondered his own stake.
Unlike others, he foresaw the venture's potential with crystal clarity. Within years, a wave of migrant labor to Guangdong would sweep Bobai County. His transport company, specializing in long-distance Guangdong routes, aimed to claim a slice of that lucrative pie. The earlier and heavier the investment, the greater the future returns.
Currently, he held nearly 400,000 yuan in cash. Even after reserving 30,000-40,000 yuan for White Duckweed Farm's longan payments, over 360,000 yuan remained. Should he invest it all?
Within three minutes, his decision was made: Yes.
First, the company's profits would be substantial—greater investment now meant greater dividends later.
Second, as clan leader, going all in would demonstrate his confidence and inspire others.
With that resolved, his thoughts turned to his second son's imminent return. His next task: hosting his son's Peking University classmates. These were the era's brightest minds. Even the least ambitious among them would likely reach departmental-level positions in government.
Most would soar higher—their ceilings limited only by luck.
Regardless, their future influence was undeniable.
…
Nanning Railway Station
Tang Mingjie shuffled out of the station exit, his spirit as wilted as "frost-bitten eggplant."
While his Peking University peers were seasoned train travelers, this marathon journey had been his first. For someone unaccustomed to hardship, the ordeal was brutal.
Noticing his pallor, Deng Yunheng asked, "Brother Jie, you alright?"
Tang Mingjie waved weakly. "Fine. Just… never ridden a train this long before." That the three female classmates appeared unfazed only deepened his shame. A grown man couldn't admit weakness!
Deng Yunheng sympathized. "Guangxi's simply too far from Beijing, and trains are slow. Days and nights onboard would drain anyone. Let's eat, then rest at a guesthouse. We'll depart tomorrow."
No one objected. After such a journey, boarding another train immediately was unthinkable.
En route to dinner, Liu Xiaoman glanced around and remarked, "Nanning, our provincial capital, doesn't seem much grander than Guilin!"
Deng Yunheng smiled. "Understandable. Nanning's only been the capital for a few years. Guilin has 2,200 years of history—a strategic hub since the Qin Dynasty, linking southern seas to the central plains. From the Yuan Dynasty to the Republic era, it remained Guangxi's political and economic center for over 500 years. That heritage isn't easily matched."
Liu Xiaoman sighed. "Pity that status couldn't last."
"Still impressive," Deng Yunheng said. "My hometown, Yulin, can't compare at all."
Chu Zhenyu added, "My elders visited Guilin. They said its landscapes are peerless. When we passed through earlier, those limestone hills were indeed extraordinary."
Deng Yunheng nodded. "My father said the same when escorting me to Beijing. 'Guilin's scenery tops the world,' he told me. I must visit properly someday."
Liu Xiaoman brightened. "President Deng, if you're not busy after hosting us, come to Guilin! I'll handle your lodging and meals."
Were it just Guangxi classmates, Deng Yunheng might've agreed. Their return trip would pass through Guilin anyway—a slight detour.
But with five roommates in tow—new acquaintances from the train—imposing on a female classmate so abruptly felt inappropriate.
He declined gently: "Not this time. Let's plan it properly next visit."
(End of Chapter)