There's an old saying: "If you're poor in a bustling city, no one asks about you; if you're rich in a remote mountain, even distant relatives will seek you out." But sometimes, old sayings don't quite hold true—just like another that goes, "Good news doesn't travel far, but bad news spreads like wildfire."
Take the Ai family finding Jiang Hai, for instance. That should've been good news, yet it didn't spread much at all.
Instead, what did spread like wildfire was the gossip that Ai Xiaoxi had found herself a young, wealthy, handsome, kind, and strong boyfriend. Within a day, the entire village had heard about it.
Jiang Hai didn't mind. After all, he and Ai Xiaoxi were indeed in a relationship. Even if it seemed a little complicated, he wasn't going to deny anything.
Lately, several middle-aged women had taken to "accidentally" passing by the Ai family's home. If they caught sight of a family member, they'd warmly greet them—then, "incidentally," ask about Jiang Hai.
So, little by little, word of Jiang Hai and his friends spread beyond the village.
On September 30th—the day before their scheduled October 1st flight—some of Ai Xiaoxi's mother's relatives came by, bearing gifts.
Jiang Hai couldn't help but laugh at what they brought: eggs, a couple of chickens, and some steamed buns.
Really?
After placing the offerings down, they casually lit up the expensive cigarettes Jiang Hai had bought for Ai Xiaoxi's father, clearly aware of their price. Each box was worth more than what they'd brought. Naturally, they smoked away with no shame. Even some of the village women were puffing away.
For a while, the house was thick with smoke—it felt like it had caught fire.
Jiang Hai didn't smoke, and neither did Ai Xiaoxi. Ai Xiaohui had tried in the past, but now that his health was declining, wouldn't continuing to smoke just be hastening death?
So the three of them—Jiang Hai, Ai Xiaoxi, and Ai Xiaohui—left and spent the afternoon at the beach, only returning when it was time for dinner.
Although these relatives had done some pretty hurtful things during the Ai family's time of hardship, they were still her mother's family. Since they had made an effort to reconnect, Ai Xiaoxi's mother welcomed them sincerely.
She prepared a generous spread to entertain them. But as soon as everyone sat down, it became clear that their main interest was Jiang Hai.
"Xiao Jiang, don't be shy now. You're at your uncle and aunt's place—it's just like your own home. Come, eat!" Ai Xiaoxi's aunt said warmly.
Jiang Hai felt a little awkward. Technically, they were relatives. If they had a close relationship, those words might've been appropriate.
But the truth was—they weren't close at all. So why were they putting on airs?
Ai Xiaoxi seemed just as uncomfortable.
"Come, come, let's eat!" Ai Xiaoxi's mother quickly tried to lighten the mood.
Jiang Hai smiled at her cue and picked up his chopsticks. But before he could take two bites, Ai Xiaoxi's uncle came over with a glass of liquor, inviting him to drink.
Jiang Hai didn't refuse. Respecting elders was important, so he picked up his own glass and toasted him.
Once he'd had a drink, the uncle opened up like a faucet. The elder's air returned, thick and heavy.
"Xiao Jiang," he began, "we really came to meet you—the new son-in-law. You weren't around earlier, and we barely know you. I hear you're doing quite well. What line of work are you in?"
As he spoke, the rest of the table leaned in, ears sharp. Let's be honest—they weren't here for a social call. They were here for Jiang Hai. That much was clear.
"I raise cattle in the U.S.," Jiang Hai replied casually.
He wasn't stupid—he understood exactly what they were fishing for. But now wasn't the time to boast or act aloof. Sometimes, silence and simplicity were the best ways to avoid getting dragged into something.
"Huh? You raise cattle in the U.S.? Why not in China?" his aunt asked, looking confused. In their minds, cattle were just... cattle. Maybe some were for milk, some for meat—but the idea that a pound of beef could sell for thousands of yuan? That belonged in tall tales. They'd never believe it, no matter how real it was.
They'd assumed Jiang Hai was in some business. Raising cattle in America? That was not on their radar.
"Oh, the land over there is cheaper," Jiang Hai said simply.
At that, the uncle and aunt glanced at each other but didn't press further—for now.
"If you don't mind," his aunt suddenly added, "you could try raising cattle here in China. Your uncle isn't busy most days—he could help you manage things."
Jiang Hai nearly burst out laughing. Are you serious?
Why would he give up a top-notch ranch in the U.S. just to open one here—managed by people like them? He'd have to be out of his mind.
"I don't have any such plans. Land in China can't be inherited, so I don't have much attachment to it," Jiang Hai responded firmly, leaving no room for debate.
His words wiped the smiles off more than a few faces at the table.
"It's not like staying in the U.S. is a long-term solution. Foreign land, foreign people—it can't compare to being home," the uncle added, trying to keep the tone light. "But everyone has their own path. Xiao Jiang, I heard cattle overseas are different from ours?"
Jiang Hai gave him a look of mild surprise. So he did know something.
That was unexpected. Most folks around here couldn't tell a cow from a buffalo, let alone different cattle breeds. In China, buffalo and cattle were the main breeds—buffalo were larger but their meat was inferior. Even regular cattle here didn't compare to foreign breeds in quality or production.
"I heard foreign beef is expensive. I've got some money lying around. Since lots of folks here raise cattle, how about you bring me a few of your breed? I'll pay," the uncle offered, smiling.
Clearly, he knew trying to mooch off Jiang Hai wouldn't fly—not after the way they ignored the Ai family's suffering. Jiang Hai's wealth was his own. It was fine if he spent it on the Ai family. But them? No way.
Still, the uncle had done his homework. His neighbor's son—a college grad turned cattle farmer—had explained that imported cattle were significantly better. The meat was superior, the yield higher, and the profit margin massive. Foreign cattle could earn ten times more than domestic ones—sometimes even more than dairy cows.
So, the uncle thought, if he couldn't borrow money, maybe he could ride Jiang Hai's coattails this way.
But Jiang Hai shook his head. "That won't work."
"Why not?" the uncle frowned. "I'm offering to pay. Why say no right off the bat?"
Jiang Hai sighed. "Foreign cattle are better. I'm sure you understand that. But do you know why they're not all over China? It's because most countries don't allow live cattle to be exported easily, and China doesn't allow their import. That's the policy."
The uncle didn't budge. "How do you know it won't work if you don't try?"
Jiang Hai chuckled and said no more. What was the point? People like that—who think money can solve anything—don't listen to reason.
Let them think what they want. Either way, Jiang Hai wasn't getting involved.