Ryan Sullivan carried a fishing net, dragging his shoes, and strolled over at a leisurely pace.

“Just got here?” David Sullivan asked in surprise. Seventh Uncle had always been an active fisherman.

“Your eldest uncle was looking for me.” Ryan Sullivan held the net and water bottle in one hand, scratched his freshly cut hair with the other, looking quite troubled: “He wants me to go work at the university town construction site in a few days…”

David Sullivan said, “Just hanging around at home isn’t much of a life either.”

Ryan Sullivan shot David Sullivan a glare: “You’re still wet behind the ears, what do you know? My skills—can you hire someone like me for just ten or twenty bucks?”

“Yes, yes…” David Sullivan couldn’t be bothered to argue. Seventh Uncle was especially handy; fishing nets, fish spears, and so on were all handmade by him.

He was skilled at big construction jobs, welding, and rebar work—back in 2019, earning a few hundred yuan a day was nothing unusual.

But being skilled didn’t mean he was willing to work.

Seeing Seventh Uncle’s freshly cut hair, David Sullivan thought of his own middle part: “I’m heading out.”

Ryan Sullivan retorted, “What’s up? Don’t want to see your Seventh Uncle? I show up and you leave?”

David Sullivan pointed at his head: “Going to get a haircut.”

“Looks fine.”

“Looks dumb, like Liu Kuisheng!”

David Sullivan picked up the water bottle, took off his shirt to shake out the sun-dried leeches, and headed toward the orchard.

Back at the orchard, he put away the fish and fishing net, found a plastic bag for the leeches, and wheeled out his old bicycle to go get a haircut at the market street.

It was hot, the road dried quickly, and the bike could finally be ridden.

For convenience, David Sullivan asked the old barber to give him a buzz cut.

The thirteen yuan he’d just gotten—he spent one and a half.

That even saved him fifty cents; if he’d asked one of the young village wives, it would’ve cost two yuan.

As soon as David Sullivan stepped out of the shop, he was caught by Third Grandpa Brian Sullivan, who asked him to help at the brigade office.

Brian Sullivan also gave him a tip: “Mayor Yang plans to organize your story and submit it. The county had a big flood, but no accidents—there should be a commendation meeting later, and you might get recognized as an outstanding individual.”

That was good news, though he didn’t know if there’d be any material reward for being an outstanding individual.

It was too tacky a question, and with others around, David Sullivan didn’t ask.

After the flood receded, there was a mountain of follow-up work.

The sand, gravel, and food provided for free by each village needed to be formally thanked.

And the supplies brought by Jack Sullivan had to be coordinated with the town and county and the Third Construction Company; William Young had already taken on that job.

David Sullivan sighed inwardly—the new mayor was quite interesting. The person in charge at the Third Construction Company was from Lujia Village, a cousin of Third Grandpa, and he even had to call Fifth Grandpa.

Was this picking the easiest problem out of a pile of tough ones?

At the brigade office, several high school and vocational students on break had been called over by Brian Sullivan to help the brigade accountant and women’s director check accounts and inventory the remaining supplies.

David Sullivan’s assigned job was to cut red paper, for Second Grandpa to write thank-you letters with a brush, to be delivered first to the villages or units that had come to help.

The brigade accountant would order banners, and once they were ready, they’d make formal visits to express thanks.

While they were busy, Emily Thompson suddenly said, “Third Grandpa, the bill Eric Clark sent doesn’t add up—the price of all the meat is fifty cents higher than usual.”

His family lived next door to Eric Clark, so he knew the prices better.

Brian Sullivan thought for a moment: “Settle it at the price he reported.”

For things like this, there was no price negotiation beforehand, and no one thought to haggle at the time—everyone was busy with the emergency.

The women’s director said, “That’s letting him off too easy!”

Brian Sullivan’s thick, sword-like eyebrows twitched: “He brought food at a critical moment—that’s a favor. Paying is our duty. He did his part, so we shouldn’t be too petty. Mayor Yang promised that part of the expenses this time would come from the general fund.”

When disaster strikes, help comes from all sides. Many people and supplies had come to help, and there was a lot to do afterward. David Sullivan also had dinner at the brigade, working until ten at night.

After leaving the brigade, David Sullivan rode his old bike to drop off Emily Thompson, then went to the orchard to tell his mother he’d be going to town tomorrow, took the white porcelain plate and the black plastic bag with leeches back to the old house.

After washing up, David Sullivan took out eleven yuan and fifty cents, laying the bills out on the table one by one—this was all the money he had!

Come on, work hard, young man!

Chapter 10: The Future Uncertain

At five thirty in the morning, David Sullivan got up to pack his things. He found a black faux-leather handbag in the main room to carry the white porcelain plate and plastic bag, planning to go to the Shunshan Cultural Market first, then the West Market.

Oh right, there were also cicada nymphs—he needed to ask about those too.

People used to buy them.

After a quick wash and change, as a farm kid, he wore whatever was available, but today’s business wasn’t suitable for the No. 1 Middle School uniform. David Sullivan rummaged through the big wardrobe; besides the uniform, he only had two sets of sportswear for summer.

No choice but to pick the red soccer jersey—definitely a knockoff, bought for twenty yuan at the county’s spring goods fair this year.

He also found a pair of black-and-green Double Star sneakers under the bed, about half new, and put them on.

Counting the purchase price, David Sullivan’s whole outfit was worth thirty yuan.

He hung the handbag on the bike handle, hopped on his old bicycle, and headed out. Just as he turned onto the market street, David Sullivan saw his childhood friend Emily Thompson sitting on a stone at the door, looking gloomy, as if the sky had fallen.

David Sullivan stopped his bike, put his foot on the ground, and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Emily Thompson was lost in thought and didn’t hear.

David Sullivan glanced at the tightly closed Eric Clark butcher shop: “Did his family give you trouble?”