Chapter 46: Buying a Bicycle

After Zhou Xianghong and them explained.

Only then did Shazhu realize he too was that frog at the bottom of the well.

He mistakenly thought that, as a reborn person, he could do anything.

Because supplies were scarce, this bicycle was normally used until it could no longer be used—that is, completely worn out—before people would sell it as scrap; there was basically no chance of recycling and reusing it.

Shazhu wanted to assemble a bicycle.

He needed to work out the tires, the ball bearings, and the bicycle's frame—he had to figure them out and make them himself.

It wasn't impossible to assemble.

However, the assembled bike could match the one Black Ge made himself—except for the bell not ringing, everything else sounded, and it was still hard to ride.

"Yuzhu, do you want to buy a bicycle?"

"Station Chief, let me be frank: you know my family's situation—my father has gone to Baocheng, I'm living with my sister, and she is nine years old this year."

"You don't want to buy a bicycle? If you do, I'll give you an introduction letter."

Shazhu was stunned; according to his understanding, there seemed to be no bicycles for sale.

"My younger brother is the president of the East District Ma Yan Hutong Supply and Marketing Cooperative; last night he told me they just received ten bicycles—you need to go back at noon to cook for your sister, and without transportation that won't do."

"Then thank you, Station Chief."

"Thanks for nothing—now show us a trick."

"No problem!"

The first turn in the three-turn one sound.

A big deal.

Shazhu took a day off.

Carrying the introduction letter issued by Lao He, he headed straight for the East District Ma Yan Hutong Supply and Marketing Cooperative.

The place was crowded.

Most crowded around the bicycle area, as if they'd seen the most precious treasure, their eyes alight with tiny flames of excitement, their mouths uttering various exhilarating words.

The salesman, who usually wore a cold face and acted like a boss with a take-it-or-leave-it attitude, had a faint smile and was cheerfully shouting at those who eyed the bikes but couldn't afford them due to the high price.

"Go ahead and touch, but don't pinch with your nails—if you scratch off the paint, think how upset the comrades who later buy the bike will be."

The salesperson as Shazhu remembered.

Would not speak so pleasantly.

Supply and marketing cooperative salesperson.

The iron rice bowl of this era.

Always aloof.

When faced with something, they usually just scold outright—just like just now when people touched the bikes with their hands, another supply and marketing cooperative salesperson would have directly cursed your ancestors eight generations back.

But this one was pleasant.

Something's off.

Just now Stone taught Shazhu a trick.

When things go against the norm, there must be something fishy.

His gaze began to sweep the crowd; though it looked like he was staring at the rare sight, he was actually observing everything around him as much as possible.

He frowned.

He glared.

A tall, straight figure entered Shazhu's view—a man in his early fifties, exuding an air of superiority; behind him followed a young man, likely his secretary or guard; not far off was a bespectacled man carrying a synthetic leather briefcase, holding pen and paper, looking like a reporter.

These three were the reason the salesperson's attitude changed dramatically.

"You're here for an inspection."

"I'm here to put on a show."

Normally this sort of thing has to be done secretly.

Shazhu, keeping his composure, shoved his way through the crowd and appeared before the salesperson.

"Comrade, how much is this bicycle each?"

The salesperson really didn't want to deal with Shazhu.

But thinking of the president's order...

He had to honestly reply: "1,700,000."

Although his words contained no profanity.

But his tone wasn't great either.

That's judging by appearance, I guess.

The salesperson thought the young Shazhu was just there to gawk, and everyone around thought the same; a twenty-five- or twenty-six-year-old asking the price of a bicycle was basically joking.

"I'll buy one."

"Not being able to afford a bicycle now doesn't mean you won't be able to afford one later—this bicycle, you know." The salesperson gave his usual lecture, stood there dumbfounded, staring at Shazhu, and said, "You say you're buying a bicycle?"

That last sentence carried a hint of trembling.

"Yes, yes, yes, I'm buying a bicycle."

"Do you have an introduction letter?"

Because of production limits, to buy a bicycle now you need an introduction letter: if you have a job, your unit issues it; if you're unemployed, the street office issues it.

Later, when introduction letters were no longer needed, they switched to bicycle vouchers; take the Yagangchang steel mill as an example: a mill with over ten thousand workers gets at most about thirty bicycle vouchers per month.

Shazhu first handed his introduction letter to the salesperson; after the salesperson confirmed it was correct, Shazhu then handed over the 1,700,000 for the bicycle.

Fortunately it was in 50,000 denomination notes; if it were in 100 denomination notes, you'd definitely need a big bag to carry them.

One hand exchanges money, the other hand exchanges goods; along with that come the relevant procedures of the supply and marketing cooperative.

Looking at the new bicycle before him.

Shazhu's excitement instantly peaked.

Around him also gathered a crowd of onlookers.

Including that person who seemed to be a leader.

"Comrade, you're only about twenty-six or twenty-seven, yet you actually bought a bicycle."

Shazhu's heart felt chilly, chilly.

It's all because of that mature face.

I'm young.

Working at sixteen.

Not the work of a twenty-six- or twenty-seven-year-old.

Too lazy to explain.

All attention was on that leader.

"Old comrade, you too."

"I've been here half a day, seeing all these comrades watching; only you, a little comrade, bought this bicycle for 1,700,000, saying you'd pay and you paid; if I were to buy this bicycle, I'd have to hesitate half a day, otherwise buying a bicycle would mean my wife and kids go hungry at home."

This remark carried a hint of scrutiny.

Shazhu gave a hehe laugh.

He slightly raised his head.

"Old comrade, to be frank, I never imagined I could actually afford a new bicycle; I am a worker at the Red Star Waste Recycling Station, my name is He Yuzhu, I come from a city commoner background."

Holding high the big flag.

Singing praises loudly.

This is Shazhu's strategy and policy.

Under these circumstances.

Then one must praise enthusiastically.

"In recent years, we couldn't even fill our stomachs with three-ingredient noodles, going hungry every day; back then the only thought was to someday eat a good meal, so we could also know what fullness feels like."

"Two years ago, when the organization arrived, we felt this life had hope; I recall a guidance comrade telling me he said the whole nation would soon live well; we not only need to eat our fill, but also should eat white flour steamed buns every day; every household would have its own bicycle, our nation's domestically produced bicycles."

"Back then I didn't believe it, but now I do; up to now it feels like a dream—I own my own bicycle, this is all thanks to the organization; if I ever get to see the elders in the future, I will certainly kowtow to them."

How the talk goes depends on what you say.

As soon as Shazhu said these words.

Full of positive energy manifested.

It is a great component of a harmonious society.