Chronicle of the 70s
Chapter 69 - 067 Little Yellow Fish at the First Watch of the Night

Chapter 69: 067 Little Yellow Fish at the First Watch of the Night

His hair neatly combed, decked out in a white shirt, black trousers, and black leather shoes, Mr. Lan’s eyes widened in anger upon seeing his grandson dressed like this: "What are you dressed up for, watch out or someone might take you for a pretty boy and kidnap you!"

Lan Yunian was extremely annoyed by his grandfather’s crude and rude remarks, merely called out "Grandpa" and turned his head to leave.

Mr. Lan helplessly shook his head, thinking to himself: a grandfather fights for the country, a son enjoys the fortune, and the grandson brings calamity!

Wealth does not last more than three generations, how true this saying is.

Li Xianglu chatted with Mr. Lan for a bit and then excused herself and left.

This month’s food supply had not been taken home yet; Grandpa Lan had already asked a young soldier to purchase and keep it ready. Li Xianglu planned to make a round before returning to take the food to the western side of the school, where she would meet up with Qin Xi and head back together.

She first stopped by the grocer’s and saw that only two pork elbows were left, quite sizable, not requiring food tickets, and cost just fifty cents each. Li Xianglu sniffed them for any bad smell, quickly bought them and placed them in her basket, then mounted her bicycle to head for the school. She intended to deliver ten buns to Li Jianqing, unsure why he hadn’t come back last weekend. She placed the buns in the bike basket, and after some thought, also took out two fragrant melons.

The school had a doorman who would register names before informing visitors which room they were looking for.

These days, the school buildings were all single-story, arranged in rows of three, serving three classes each. This middle school combined both junior and senior high sections. The junior high had four classes, two per grade, and the senior high had even fewer, with only two classes. Both junior and senior highs ran on a two-year system, while primary school was a five-year system. Hence, there was no talk of a third year for junior or senior high until the year 1981 brought about the ’Senior Three cohort.’

Li Xianglu easily found Li Jianqing’s class, where an older male teacher was conducting a dictation exercise from a book. Seeing a stranger, he proactively asked, "Who are you looking for?"

Li Xianglu politely replied: "Hello, teacher. I’m looking for Li Jianqing."

The male teacher, pleased by the girl’s politeness, then addressed the class: "Li Jianqing, someone’s looking for you, make it quick."

Li Jianqing had recognized his sister’s voice already and called out before reaching the door: "Little sister, why are you here?"

Seeing the bicycle, he exclaimed with delight: "Did you buy a bicycle?"

Li Xianglu nodded happily: "I brought you some buns and melons." She took the items out of her bike’s front basket and then asked, "Why didn’t you come home last Sunday?"

Li Jianqing looked at the steaming buns, swallowed hard, and replied, "We’ve got exams coming soon, and right after that, it’s the autumn harvest break."

Relieved to hear there was nothing serious, Li Xianglu instructed him to eat well before she left.

Watching his sister ride away, Li Jianqing felt a warm glow in his heart. He hadn’t gone home last weekend, and not a single family member had asked after him, yet here was his sister, who had traveled a long way just to bring him food.

Li Xianglu changed her route and, a bit bored, aimlessly rode here and there, but then she spotted a woman clutching a small cloth bag, sneaking toward an alleyway. Her eyes lit up, and she quickly got off the bicycle, found a secluded spot to keep her bike hidden with the Storage Ring, and with a cloth bag in hand and her face masked, she followed in the woman’s direction.

This was a covert alley, where people, either cradling or carrying bags, mostly walked with their heads down, nervously looking around.

And Li Xianglu was thrilled to her core—this was the black market, and she couldn’t believe she had stumbled upon it.

Just a few days ago, she had been pestering Qin Xi, asking if they could go to the black market yet, and he had adamantly refused to tell. Hmph, it turns out her luck was this good.

Her bag of goods quickly caught the attention of a woman who had just walked in, who came over and inquisitively whispered, "Got any Fuqiang Flour?"

Li Xianglu shook her head, saw the woman’s disappointment, but then offered, "I have noodles, made from Special Flour."

What! Noodles made from Special Flour? The woman’s eyes brightened, and she reached out to grasp the bag in Li Xianglu’s arms, but Li Xianglu deftly dodged and said with a gentle smile, "Sister, no rush."

The woman sheepishly nodded, then the two of them moved to a more secluded corner of the alley. Li Xianglu carefully opened the bag, revealing the loose noodles: snowy white and slender. The woman couldn’t help but swallow, thinking that these were even whiter than Special Flour, and quickly pulled out a shiny golden piece, five centimeters long, three centimeters wide, and two centimeters thick—a solid, glittering gold bar.

Li Xianglu first took it, weighing it in her hand—yes, about twenty grams. With gold prices about eight or nine yuan per gram, this little bar was at least twenty grams, making it worth around 200 yuan.

The woman hugged Li Xianglu’s noodles, weighing about twenty pounds. In the black market, handmade noodles made from Fuqiang Flour cost one yuan fifty per pound, and you needed the corresponding food tickets for the purchase. These twenty pounds of noodles were made from Special Flour, so how to calculate the cost?

Li Xianglu was also eager to keep the little gold bar in hand. The current price of gold was one thing, but once the economic reforms and opening-up came into play, the price of gold would shoot up to shocking levels. Thinking this, she immediately said, "I have another bag of Special Flour, not here though. If you’re willing, we can switch locations to trade."

At the mention of more Special Flour, the woman’s eyes gleamed brighter, but she hesitated, wondering what if this person was a plainclothes officer sent by the police. If she got caught, that’d be one thing, but what about her sick child at home?

Li Xianglu calmly said, "Take the noodles home first, then meet me behind the school."

Upon hearing that she could take the noodles first, the woman instantly stopped hesitating and shook her head: "Let’s exchange them together later."

Seeing this, Li Xianglu nodded: "Alright, remember to bring a cart later, it’s heavy, and I’m afraid you won’t be able to carry it."

The woman nodded and quickly went back.

Li Xianglu then found a hidden corner to retrieve her bicycle, placed a whole fifty-pound bag of flour on the rear carrier, and took out twenty pounds of loose noodles to hang on the handlebars before carefully pushing the bike to the spot near the back door of the school.

No one was around at that time, and those who saw her just hurried past.

Soon after, the woman she had met earlier reappeared with a wheelbarrow and a ten-year-old boy. The boy was wearing bleached white clothes, appearing so thin that his head looked disproportionately large, clearly suffering from long-term malnutrition.

Seeing Li Xianglu’s bicycle and the entire bag of white flour on the rear seat, the woman excitedly covered her mouth to stifle a cry. There was hope for her sick child at home now.

The boy happily ran forward to help Li Xianglu move the flour and noodles onto the family’s cart, only then patting his chest in relief.