When Lin Shirong opened his eyes again, he was greeted by the sight of an old, battered table that looked too shabby even to be used as firewood. On top of it stood a kerosene lamp. Inside the transparent glass chimney, a small flame flickered weakly, casting dim light across the room.
Seated across the table was a thin middle-aged man, Lin Yungui. To Lin Shirong's surprise, this nephew—five generations his junior—had been dead for nearly twenty years.
At that moment, Lin Yungui was holding a hookah pipe in one hand while deftly stuffing tobacco into its bowl with the other. After packing it, he picked up the kerosene lamp to light the tobacco and began puffing away with a rhythmic "gulp gulp" sound.
The scene caused Lin Shirong's eyelids to twitch. Was he dreaming?
After taking a few drags, Lin Yungui set the hookah down, looked up at Lin Shirong, and spoke earnestly. "Uncle Jiu, as the saying goes, 'The brave die full, the timid die starving.' Last summer, many folks in the Shilong Brigade adopted the household contract responsibility system, freeing up manpower for diverse ventures, and they made quite a fortune.
"Uncle Jiu, those trailblazers weren't afraid. Why should we, who are merely following in their footsteps, be afraid?"
Hearing this, a rush of memories swept through Lin Shirong. He realized the scene before him was from 1980, the year when his cousin, Lin Yungui, proposed partnering with him to contract out the brigade's vat kiln.
Could it be… he had been reborn? Back to 1980?
"Uncle Jiu, don't hesitate. Let's do this together!" Lin Yungui's urging broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.
Lin Shirong pondered for a moment and then replied, "Yungui, this is a big decision. Let me think it over tonight and give you my answer tomorrow."
Lin Yungui hadn't expected Uncle Jiu to agree immediately. A promise to decide by tomorrow was already fast enough. He nodded eagerly. "Alright, Uncle Jiu, think about it carefully. I have some other matters to attend to, so I'll head out first."
"Okay," Lin Shirong replied with a nod.
As soon as Lin Yungui left, seven figures of varying heights entered the room. These were none other than Lin Shirong's seven children.
The sight of his eldest son, Lin Yuntai, standing at the forefront stirred emotions within Lin Shirong that he hadn't felt in years. Despite his composure in the face of this miraculous rebirth, he couldn't suppress the surge of excitement.
After all, it had been 44 years since he last saw his steady and dependable eldest son.
In his previous life, he had agreed to partner with Lin Yungui to contract the brigade's vat kiln, which they later renamed the Vat Tile Factory. That same year, in August, a matchmaker had introduced a girl from the neighboring commune for Lin Yuntai. However, on the way to their blind date, tragedy struck...
The memory of losing his son—the heartache of a father burying his child—gnawed at Lin Shirong's heart. That accident was the deepest regret of his previous life.
"Dad, what was Brother Yungui talking to you about?" Lin Yuntai asked casually. The dim light of the room hid the abnormality in his father's expression.
Suppressing his tumultuous emotions, Lin Shirong replied, "He wants to partner with me to contract out the brigade's vat kiln."
Lin Yuntai's eyes lit up. "That's great news, Dad! Did you agree?"
Shaking his head, Lin Shirong said, "Not yet."
Lin Yuntai thought for a moment and asked, "Are you worried about the political climate?"
Lin Shirong smiled faintly. "No, I'm not worried about that. What concerns me is the future of the vat kiln industry itself. That's why I didn't agree immediately."
With a sigh, Lin Shirong reflected on his past life. Back then, the vat kiln partnership had started off well. The profits were modest, but they could afford meat every now and then. Unfortunately, the good times didn't last. As society developed, durable substitutes replaced traditional vats and tiles. Products like basins and bowls were made from stronger materials, leaving fragile items like vats and tiles with no market.
If Lin Shirong remembered correctly, he and Lin Yungui had contracted the vat kiln in 1980. By 1987, the vat kiln business was struggling. After barely managing for another three years, the operation, which had started losing money, finally reached its end.
Lin Yuntai was taken aback by his father's reasoning. After graduating from high school, he had spent more than two years apprenticing under his father to master the craft of making large vats. He had only officially completed his apprenticeship at the end of last year, earning the title of a qualified vat master.
Now, his father—the very master who taught him—was saying he wasn't optimistic about the vat kiln industry's future?
"But we can't live without pottery and tiles in our daily lives! Logically, this business should have a bright future. How can you be so sure it won't do well?" Lin Yuntai asked.
Lin Shirong replied calmly, "It's just a hunch. The business will likely thrive in the short term."
Hearing this, Lin Yuntai breathed a sigh of relief. "That's good to hear."
"Dad, do you still plan to contract the brigade's pottery and tile kiln with Uncle Yungui?" the second son, Lin Yunheng, chimed in.
Lin Shirong had five sons and two daughters. The sons were named after the Five Mountains of China:
Lin Yuntai, the eldest, was 20 years old this year and a high school graduate.Lin Yunheng, the second son, was 16 and in his first year of high school.Lin Yunsong, the third son, was 12 and in fifth grade.Lin Yunhua, the fourth son, was 10 and in third grade.Lin Yunfeng, the youngest son, was 8 and in first grade.
The two daughters were named after pearls:
Lin Yunzhen, the eldest daughter, was 18 years old and had completed junior high school.Lin Yunzhu, the youngest daughter, was 14 and had finished elementary school.
"We should form a partnership," Lin Shirong said after a moment of thought. "But I need to think about how to proceed." He waved his hand. "It's getting late. Let's all head to bed."
"Yes, Dad," the children responded in unison, retreating to their rooms in the dim light to sleep.
Once his children were gone, Lin Shirong carried the kerosene lamp back to his own room.
The earthy smell of soil and linen filled the air, and for the first time in years, Lin Shirong felt an unfamiliar sense of peace. He set the lamp on a stool, sat on his bed, and turned his attention to the peculiar sensation he'd noticed in his mind earlier.
When he was reborn, he had felt something unique within his consciousness. However, his initial shock at suddenly finding himself back in 1980—and his conversation with Lin Yungui—had pushed it to the back of his mind.
Now that he had time, he was eager to investigate.
After a few minutes of focusing, a strange expression crossed Lin Shirong's face. The ability he discovered was beyond anything he had expected.
It was called the Matchmaker Reward System, currently in its 1.0 version. Its sole function was to provide tenfold rewards for matchmaking efforts.
In simple terms, any money or goods Lin Shirong earned as a matchmaker would be multiplied tenfold by the system.
"This is forcing me to become a matchmaker!" Lin Shirong muttered, half in awe and half in exasperation.
If he were twenty years younger, he might have rejected the idea of becoming a matchmaker entirely, instead choosing to leverage his 44 years of future knowledge to make a fortune elsewhere.
But now, at the age of 44—even if he was back in 1980—his ambition to conquer the world had waned. With the Matchmaker Reward System's help, he could live a stable life in the countryside, helping others find their matches and enjoying a simpler, more peaceful existence.