Chapter 8: Legend of Wealth, Starting from Five Cents

The two enjoyed braised beef, cream mushroom soup, pan‑fried silver cod, and the red vegetable soup Chen Qiaoqiao ordered, which were brought to the table.

"Mushrooms can also be cooked with butter, really fresh."

"Hmm… really tasty."

Chen Qiaoqiao found the Russian‑style dishes novel; after tasting a sip of the soup, she praised it endlessly.

Xu Yuexin ate a piece of delicate, tender cod and also thought the flavor was excellent.

"The taste is indeed good; I'll bring you back here many more times in the future."

Xu Yuexin took the cream mushroom soup that Chen Qiaoqiao had served for him, sipped twice, and said,

Chen Qiaoqiao quickly shook her head: "No, no, it's too pricey; just this one time today is enough."

When ordering earlier, Chen Qiaoqiao saw the prices on the menu and realized that even a single dish would cover an ordinary person's living expenses for several days, which made her feel deeply distressed.

"I quit my job to write, isn't it just so that the two of us can eat whatever we want and buy whatever we want?"

Xu Yuexin declared boldly, "I'm confident; with my writing output, eating here every day in the future will be no problem."

He usually stays low‑key when nothing's happening, but never shows weakness when it's time to demonstrate his ability; this is Xu Yuexin's personal principle.

Chen Qiaoqiao let out a 'pfft' laugh; she thought Xu Yuexin's demeanor just now was very decisive and also quite handsome.

"You earned a decent amount of royalties this time, right?"

Chen Qiaoqiao asked curiously.

"651 yuan."

Xu Yuexin replied calmly, "This is just a beginning."

"What a high royalty!"

"That shows your talent is extraordinary. As long as you keep pushing, just as you said, this royalty is only the start."

Chen Qiaoqiao widened her almond‑shaped eyes, sweetly smiled, and encouraged Xu Yuexin,

At first, Chen Qiaoqiao thought Xu Yuexin, like her classmates, had published articles of several thousand or tens of thousands of characters in People's Literature.

Based on the royalty, his work must be at least tens of thousands of characters; the difficulty of creation is not comparable to a few thousand‑character 'tofu block' pieces.

Thinking that, Chen Qiaoqiao became even more attracted to Xu Yuexin's talent, her gaze increasingly unable to leave him.

After a while, the dishes on the table were completely cleared by the two, and Xu Yuexin went to the counter to pay.

The total was six yuan and fifty cents, plus eight liang of grain coupons.

In earlier years, when Educated Youth went down to the countryside, their hometown governments would grant a one‑time subsidy of grain coupons, and the local government at the placement site would, according to the local economy, issue the youths some grain‑oil and cloth vouchers.

Xu Yuexin's placement was in the Northeast, where living conditions were relatively good; the Production Team's grain allotment was sufficient, so he hoarded all the vouchers, and now he has become a little wealthy man.

After paying, Xu Yuexin took Chen Qiaoqiao's hand and walked out of the restaurant, strolling in the April sunshine.

The warm, fluffy Chunfeng brushed Chen Qiaoqiao's hair tips. As Xu Yuexin breathed, he smelled a fresh, alluring maiden's scent.

He took a sip of the Beijing Yang soda he always carried, and at that moment Chen Qiaoqiao said, "I'm a bit thirsty."

Xu Yuexin naturally handed over the soda; Chen Qiaoqiao took it, held the straw, and gently drank two small sips.

Watching Chen Qiaoqiao's slightly puffed cheeks as she drank, Xu Yuexin found it a bit cute.

Wait… she shared a straw with me; does that count as an indirect kiss?

Xu Yuexin thought to himself.

After a while, the two finished the soda, returned the bottle to the newsstand, and received five cents.

Xu Yuexin slipped the coin into his pocket, led Chen Qiaoqiao to the nearby Dispatch Point, hailed a taxi, and headed to Shichahai Park.

Come to think of it, Shichahai Park and Lao Mo's place were back then battlegrounds fiercely contested by big‑yard youths and rascals, with skirmishes breaking out every few days.

As these two groups later went down to the countryside, some went to prison, and the streets finally calmed down. Nowadays, you only occasionally see the pick‑pocketing Buddha Master, and no longer any brawls.

Outside Shichahai Park is a bike shed where you can park for two cents without time limit, watched over by an old man.

Xu Yuexin and Chen Qiaoqiao got off the car and walked inside, seeing many small stalls lining both sides of the road.

Near the park entrance, each stall sold items like ice pops, soda, twisted dough sticks, and candied hawthorn. Further inside, the goods turned into various antique collectibles.

As a Chinese major, Chen Qiaoqiao had studied traditional culture and was very interested in these antique stalls, occasionally stopping to examine the porcelain bottles and furniture on display. Xu Yuexin, who in a previous life often watched treasure appraisal livestreams, seized the chance to practice his eye.

"New, new, all new…"

After passing several stalls, Xu Yuexin shook his head repeatedly in his mind.

Going back to the 70s‑80s, casually picking up leftovers like that didn't exist. The making and selling of fake antiques has always been a hot trade since ancient times, especially during the Republic era, when it reached a whole new peak.

Perhaps among these vendors, some are people who, because their craft is poor, paid tuition and now turn around to sell it to the next buyer.

At present, to buy genuine items, there are only two mainstream routes: purchase from Rongbaozhai, or go down to the countryside to collect.

Rongbaozhai can generally guarantee authenticity, but the problem is the price is steep; with that money, one could buy a house within the second ring, whose appreciation might be even greater.

Going down to collect belongs to professional collectors. Moreover, in this era without highways or surveillance cameras, long journeys are arduous and unsafe.

Beyond that, only formerly affluent families sell ancestral assets externally. However, Xu Yuexin doubts that after those chaotic years, the so‑called big families still have many good items left.

That said, Xu Yuexin is not in a hurry.

Looking through a thousand items, he'll eventually encounter one or two new ones; buying them will make him rich.

"Selling old books, selling old books!"

At that moment, a weak, breathless shout from ahead caught Xu Yuexin and Chen Qiaoqiao's attention.

The vendor was a thin, spectacled middle‑aged man squatting on the ground with a burlap sack beneath him, a broken wooden box on top, filled with a stack of books.

Selling antiques isn't like selling watermelons; no one shouts loudly, so this man is breaking the rules.

"Let's go take a look."

Xu Yuexin said to Chen Qiaoqiao, and walked with her to the stall.

"I'm not selling antiques."

The middle‑aged man, seeing Xu Yuexin and Chen Qiaoqiao approach, first explained, "I'm moving and want to get rid of these old books."

Xu Yuexin scanned the scene and found that inside the wooden crate were books such as Dream of Red Mansions and Romance of the Three Kingdoms, their covers worn and looking unremarkable.

"Why not take them to the Scrap Collection Station?"

Xu Yuexin looked at the middle‑aged man, smiled lightly and asked.

The middle‑aged man spread his hands: "If I send them over, they can only be sold as waste paper. One cent for two jin; I think that's not worth it. They're famous classic books after all, right?"

"That's true."

Xu Yuexin said as if indifferent, his peripheral glance sweeping over the broken wooden crate.

At first glance, it was just an ordinary, nondescript poplar crate, seemingly worth only as firewood.

Yet Xu Yuexin, relying on his eyes, still saw that it was unusual.

The front of the crate had thin wood, the bottom board was thick; while bending down to take the books, Xu Yuexin casually tapped the crate with a finger and found the bottom was hollow.

This design's sole purpose was to hide something.

Moreover, from the echo, the hollow bottom of the crate indeed contained something, though it's unknown what.

It certainly wouldn't be an ordinary object; at least it was something interesting. The predecessors wouldn't have been so bored as to hide things just to tease later generations.

"How much do you want for it?"

Xu Yuexin asked.

"The crate is two cents, and I'll sell you the books at one cent per jin. How does that sound?"

The middle‑aged man probed.

"Fine, go ahead and weigh them."

Xu Yuexin said casually; while the middle‑aged man took the books to weigh them, Xu Yuexin lifted the crate with a hand.

With that lift, Xu Yuexin clearly felt something off about the weight.

Whatever was hidden inside wasn't light.

(End of chapter)