Zheng Zhong kept ten hens.

He was good at raising animals, tending to them with great care, often catching insects to feed them, so every one of them laid eggs regularly, often producing new ones every other day.

Every morning, his first task was to check the henhouse, and today was no exception.

He reached in and counted five eggs.

Placing them into his small basket, he counted them again.

This wasn’t a routine task—he needed to give himself a reason.

Though there were many eggs, Zheng Zhong rarely ate them. He only boiled a couple on holidays as a treat for himself. Most of them were sold.

But sometimes, the temptation was hard to resist, even for a twenty-two-year-old.

Today, he didn’t particularly crave anything, but for some reason, he decided to boil two eggs. He thought to himself that if he didn’t want them, he could give them to Shen Qiao, since he had eaten so many of her cookies already.

The water boiled with a bubbling sound, and the eggs rolled around in it. Once they were cooked enough to be picked up with chopsticks, he placed them in a bowl and began preparing his breakfast.

His breakfast was simple—one large bowl of plain rice and a big bowl of vegetables.

Sometimes, Zheng Zhong felt like life was just about repeating things. Yesterday and today seemed almost indistinguishable. To him, life was just a matter of existing, and he couldn’t even explain why he was still holding on to it.

He finished his meal and went to work, slowing his pace as he reached the road.

This was the time when everyone headed out to work, and Shen Qiao was always punctual, arriving right as the gong was struck.

Even if she wasn’t particularly close to anyone, it was well-known that working was a torment for her, but it was something she had to do.

He dawdled a bit and ended up crossing paths with her.

Shen Qiao, walking with the other young intellectuals, gave him a slight smile, her expression seemingly devoid of any tension.

She didn’t say much, clearly in a hurry, her steps growing even faster.

At that point, Zheng Zhong didn’t feel it was right to stop her. His thoughts were tangled, and his hand went into his pocket, feeling the warmth of the eggs. He walked silently toward the fields.

That day, he was pulling a cart with his partner, Zheng Mingguang.

Zheng Mingguang was also a good laborer, but compared to Zheng Zhong, he was slower, needing more frequent breaks.

Pulling the cart was no problem when it was just one person, but with no one to help steady the load, things tended to fall off, so Zheng Zhong had to wait by the side.

He stood in just the right spot, not far from where Shen Qiao was working.

She was squatting down, struggling with a rock that was deeply buried. Despite all her efforts, she couldn’t move it, and she ended up sitting down, frustrated.

Zheng Mingguang saw an opportunity to impress and rushed over, saying, “Shen Zhiqing, let me do it.”

Shen Qiao was startled when she saw someone approaching, but quickly waved him off, “No, no need, I can do it myself.”

She looked around at the crowd and was worried about what rumors might spread.

Zheng Mingguang, eager to help, insisted, “I can do it, let me.”

He was very persuasive with his words, but in the end, he didn’t manage to move the stone.

It seemed to be buried deeper than they thought.

Shen Qiao sighed and said, “It’s fine, I’ll dig a bit more.”

The ground was tough, and she thought it was almost enough.

Today, she hadn’t been given any tools, so she had to use a scrap of metal to pry at the soil little by little. Everything was difficult, but she still said, “Comrade Zheng, really, you don’t have to.”

There were so many people around, and she didn’t want any more gossip. She felt somewhat irritated.

Everyone had the surname Zheng, and she wasn’t sure if he was referring to her or Zheng Zhong.

Zheng Zhong, uncertain whether to step forward, felt the shadow he cast noticed.

Shen Qiao half-turned and saw him. She smiled, then quickly lowered her head again, as if focusing hard on the task.

Zheng Zhong couldn’t stand watching her struggle anymore. His fingers curled slightly, the strength in his hands making it seem as if they were made of steel.

He didn’t mind the dirt on his hands; his movements were smooth and effortless as he tossed the rock aside.

Shen Qiao’s mouth hung slightly open in admiration. “You’re amazing.”

Her eyes sparkled with clear admiration.

Zheng Mingguang, now wary of Zheng Zhong, thought to himself that the opportunity he’d hoped for had now been overshadowed. Trying to explain, he said, “I didn’t apply the right amount of strength.”