Chapter 13

After leaving Qiao’s house, Shen Mo’er and Shen Shaoyuan carried a sack and a bamboo mat back to find Uncle Liu Er. They loaded their belongings onto the donkey cart and asked Uncle Liu Er to watch over them before heading to the supply and marketing cooperative.

Granted, they only had money but no ration tickets, yet there were still some items at the cooperative that could be bought without tickets.

Besides, even if they didn’t buy anything, browsing around was refreshing enough.

The cooperative was quite large—six street-facing rooms lined up with glass windows. Against the backdrop of the surrounding dull, gray one-story houses, it looked rather grand.

A bold slogan was painted on the yellow wall oil: “Develop the economy, ensure supply, self-reliance, and hard work.”

Shen Mo’er was already used to seeing slogans painted on walls. Next door to her family’s village office, there was one that read, “Always follow the Party, serve the people.” She was more intrigued by the row of gleaming glass windows, staring at them several times, deciding that when she returned home, their new house should also have windows like these.

Inside the cooperative, goods were dazzlingly abundant. As Shen Mo’er walked along, she spotted novel items that, with a bit of thought, she could piece together from the original owner’s memories.

At first, it was mostly everyday necessities—fresh and tempting, but not overwhelmingly desirable. That changed when she reached the inner counter and saw the legendary “Three Big Items”: wristwatches, bicycles, and sewing machines. Shen Mo’er found herself rooted to the spot.

She did own a jade-based sundial with a finely crafted jade base, a cherished item, but no matter how exquisite, it was just a timepiece. Compared to a wristwatch, it was nothing more than a flashy trinket.

A wristwatch could be worn on the wrist, allowing one to check the time anytime, anywhere—how convenient!

Then there was the bicycle. The village chief, Zhou Mancang, had one, and with just two pedals, it moved faster than a donkey cart. It was his trusty tool for traveling between communes. Not only Shen Mo’er, but the entire Yangliu village envied it.

As for the sewing machine, a simple foot pedal could easily sew clothes—how marvelous and ingenious!

Shen Mo’er longed for these items, but with empty pockets, she could only sigh wistfully.

“Ah!” Shen Mo’er almost thought she had sighed aloud. She turned and met her father’s equally yearning but helpless eyes.

Indeed, if they were still in Daliang, or if the troubles there hadn’t erupted yet, her father’s desires would only amount to pleading with Uncle Huang.

Now, however, they had to live by the slogan outside: self-reliance and hard work.

“When we have money, we’ll buy all the big and small essentials!” Shen Mo’er comforted her father.

The saleswoman behind the counter smiled immediately. “A young comrade with ambition.”

Shen Mo’er smiled back. “We’ll welcome the 1970s with new victories in revolution and production. We’ll surely get better and better and have bicycles for everyone!”

“That’s right, if everyone can have bicycles, life would be so joyful,” the saleswoman laughed, beckoning Shen Mo’er closer. In a low voice, she said, “I have some defective thermos flasks. The outer shell has some flaws, but the inner lining is fine and they work perfectly. Want one?”

Shen Mo’er’s eyes lit up. Buying a thermos required an industrial ration ticket, but defective items didn’t require tickets. Such items were usually sold internally at the cooperative and snapped up before reaching the shelves—buying one was like winning a prize.

“Yes, of course!” Shen Mo’er smiled brightly. “We’re just missing a thermos at home. I caught a cold a few days ago and couldn’t get a sip of hot water at night. Sister, you’re truly a godsend!”

The saleswoman had found the young girl interesting and happened to have an extra defective thermos flask, so she casually asked. Hearing this warmed her heart—now the girl would be able to drink hot water at night.

After paying six yuan and fifty cents, Shen Mo’er received a brand-new thermos with a slightly dented tin shell.

Very satisfied, she thanked the saleswoman again. Then they went to the grocery counter and bought a bag of salt and some un-ticketed fruit candies. Having browsed and purchased, they were about to leave when a quarrel broke out near the fabric counter.

“No way! I clearly remember you had defective cloth for sale just today! Are you hiding it to sell privately to your cronies? If these are cooperative goods, then everyone has the right to buy them. Bring out the cloth!”

“Where did you get off calling me a shrew, spouting nonsense? If you want cloth, bring your ration ticket. No ticket, no grabbing!”

“Bah! Isn’t this the people’s cooperative? So you’re sneaking defective cloth to do shady deals? Are you serving the people or just a few?”

“You little brat, you’re picking a fight, huh? Just you wait, I’ll slap you silly!”

Shen Mo’er stepped closer just in time to see the saleswoman lean over the counter and attempt to slap the young girl standing in front of her. But the girl was quick and experienced, grabbing the woman’s hair—

Smack! She landed two slaps first.

Everyone watching froze, mouths agape in shock.

Shen Mo’er even heard a middle-aged man gasp beside her.

The saleswoman hadn’t expected the girl to strike first. She hesitated, then screamed and started fighting back, cursing while clawing and tearing at her opponent.

“Wow, where did this girl come from? So bold, fighting a saleswoman right in the cooperative,” the middle-aged man muttered.

Cooperative saleswomen were formidable “Eight Specialists,” and usually, customers had to smile and be polite, but the staff often treated them indifferently. Fighting the staff on their turf—unless one was especially brave or foolish—was unheard of.

“Hey, you don’t know? That’s Liu Jihong from Songshu village team, no, she recently changed her name to Liu Yinshuang. She used to be quite obedient, but she fell while picking mushrooms early this year and probably injured her head. Since returning from the hospital, she’s been acting strangely, causing trouble every day. Just a few days ago, she fought with her mother because her mother gave her brother eggs but not her,” a woman nearby explained.

“Oh, so it’s her!”

Many recognized her with a nod of understanding.

Naturally, the cooperative staff couldn’t let the fight continue. Other saleswomen quickly intervened, and the cooperative leader hurried over.

As the two were pulled apart, before the leader could speak, Liu Yinshuang shouted, “Director Qian, tell me, didn’t you just receive a batch of defective cloth yesterday? After internal requests, aren’t there still three bolts left—two dark blue and one off-white? Shouldn’t they be sold today?”

Director Qian was speechless.

He wanted to deny it, but the girl spoke as if she’d inspected their warehouse, down to the last detail. How could he deny?

Others had thought she was just making trouble, but now her words seemed credible.

Defective cloth was always limited in quantity and didn’t require tickets, so the unspoken rule was that the cooperative sold it internally, and the sales staff quietly divvied it among family and friends.

Everyone understood this, and usually no one complained, but now someone had raised a fuss. Some sharp-witted onlookers squeezed into the crowd, echoing, “Director Qian, is there defective cloth? The girl speaks clearly—it doesn’t sound fake.”

Director Qian felt cornered. He couldn’t say no—it was obvious she was well-informed. But admitting it outright would make their cooperative look bad.

Leaders were clever. After a moment’s thought, Qian said, “Indeed, we received three bolts of defective cloth. It’s a small quantity, so we’re still discussing how to sell it. That’s why Comrade Xiao Yuan didn’t hastily bring it out. But since everyone is so eager to buy, I’ll say this now: Xiao Yuan, bring the cloth out now for sale. It won’t be enough for everyone—first come, first served.”

Upon hearing this, Liu Yinshuang slapped the counter, “Right! Hurry up and bring out the cloth!”

Xiao Yuan, the saleswoman, protested, “Why should I sell it? She even hit someone!”

Director Qian’s expression darkened. “If a customer has a complaint, explain it properly. Fighting won’t keep this cooperative running.”

Seeing the leader angry, Xiao Yuan dared not argue further. Grumbling, she fetched a bolt of dark blue cloth from the counter. The fabric’s color was uneven at one end—likely the defect. But in these times of scarcity, no one cared, and since this cloth didn’t require a ration ticket, it was actually a better deal than regular fabric.

The crowd’s eyes brightened, and smiles involuntarily spread.

“I want one bolt, not this color, the off-white one!” Liu Yinshuang spoke loudly.

Xiao Yuan was speechless.

Others were too.

How brazen—three bolts total, and she demanded one outright!

Director Qian twitched his lips but explained gently, “Comrade, fabric is limited. For fairness, no one may buy more than ten feet.”

Liu Yinshuang pouted, “Ten feet it is, but that’s not even enough for a full set of clothes. Hmph. Fine, I want the off-white, not this dull dark blue.” She scorned the fabric.

Xiao Yuan was furious but couldn’t show it with the leader present. She gritted her teeth and fetched the off-white bolt, quickly measured ten feet, snipped it off, and tossed it to Liu Yinshuang.

Liu Yinshuang paid and rolled up the cloth, turning to leave.

Others instinctively made way for her. Once she left, they swarmed the counter.

“I want ten feet of dark blue.”

“I want off-white, ten feet too.”

“Me too! I want some!”

Liu Yinshuang strode proudly, muttering to herself, “You all owe your luck to me. Hmph, the people’s cooperative doesn’t serve the people and tries to do shady deals. One day, I’ll report you!”

Standing nearby, Director Qian remained silent.

He didn’t know that this was the notorious Liu Yinshuang from Songshu village team, but it was clear she was no ordinary person. People who resorted to fighting and reporting were never easy to deal with in any era.

So Qian heard but said nothing.

As Liu Yinshuang marched out proudly, she suddenly locked eyes with Shen Mo’er in the crowd.

Her expression froze, staring at Shen Mo’er for a moment. Her eyes shifted from confusion to terror.

“Ah! You—you’re not dead, are you?”

Shen Mo’er blinked, puzzled.

Liu Yinshuang’s face grew more frightened. “You—you’re dead! You clearly died! Ahhh, a ghost!”

With lightning speed, she dashed through the door and vanished into the distance.

Shen Mo’er was left speechless.