Three thousand two hundred mu of wheat ripened. Old dispatcher Lao Li collected five yuan per mu, but was resented for just opening his mouth and getting sixteen thousand. Wang Shoucai took the lead to switch to cheaper external vehicles, casting off Lao Li. As a torrential rain approached, the external vehicles recklessly crashed into soft mud, wrecking three units, demanding thirty thousand in compensation, and the wheat was on the verge of rotting into the mud. The alienated villagers then remembered the driven-away Lao Li—behind those five yuan was the path he trod out over fifteen years.