In 1980, Su Changhe was reborn. In his past life, he was idle and owed debts outside, forcing his wife Lin Qingzhu to leave him with their two daughters, and he died alone. When he opened his eyes, all he had left in his hand was an old bamboo pole left by his father. This time, he got up in the early morning to cut rattan to weave nets, squatted in the river bend to set up barrier nets and bury fish traps, pushed a basket of fish to the county town, and they were snapped up at sixty cents a catty. He didn't make a fuss or brag, keeping accounts stroke by stroke, carrying fish money, rice, flour, and floral cloth home piece by piece. The villagers laughed that he wouldn't last three days, and his wife didn't believe he would change. He only answered with actions: with a bamboo pole, he fished back this scattered family pole by pole.