Chapter 238: Fish Trade in Tianjin

New Year's Day of 1959 arrived amid a gray, biting cold and an unshakable sense of hunger.

In the Siheyuan, no festive firecrackers could be heard; only the north wind swirling snow foam, slapping the windows patched with old newspapers in each household, emitting a mournful wail.

At this turn of the year, the Jia family again spread a jaw‑dropping rumor—Qin Huairu was pregnant again.

For the Jia family, the news was like adding frost to snow. Jia Dongxu, upon hearing it, turned as black as a pot's bottom, crouched in the corner without a word, his eyes filled only with numbness and deeper despair.

Qin Huairu herself seemed as if her soul had been drawn out; no trace of the joy of impending motherhood showed on her face, only a dead‑pale gray.

The child arrived at the worst possible time; the household's rice jar was already empty, even Bang Geng often cried from hunger, and adding another mouth raised the question of what to feed them.

However, Jia Zhangshi's reaction was completely different.

She froze for a moment, then the wrinkled face broke into an almost ecstatic grin, slapping her thigh and shouting, "Oh my! What good news! Great news! Our old Jia family is thriving! Huairu, your belly is impressive! Better still, give me a big, chubby grandson!"

She completely ignored the fact that the household couldn't even lift a pot, her mind filled only with the vain notions of "continuing the lineage" and "strength in numbers," as if an extra grandson could magically conjure food.

She was already scheming how, once the child was born, to force Yi Zhonghai and the others in the courtyard to "show their support."

Qin Huairu listened to her mother‑in‑law's harsh laughter, watched her husband's numb silhouette, caressed her still‑unborn yet already heavy abdomen, and tears silently seeped into her heart.

Compared with the Jia family's gloomy clouds, the atmosphere in the Steel Rolling Mill was equally heavy. Workers were generally underfed, their faces sallow, their work lethargic, and accident risks increasing.

Li Ping'an watched the Security Section officers on the training ground who could not even hold a formation, and decisively ordered all physical and tactical drills to be halted.

"If the stomach isn't full, training is futile and even prone to accidents," he told Wang Dahu, his brows knit.

As Head of the Security Department, he could not stand by and watch the mill's safety guarantees and the workers' health collapse.

He had to find a way to get some food, give everyone a taste of oiliness, even if only a little.

He set his sights on fish. Mainland meat was scarce, but the coast might have a solution. Li Ping'an approached the deputy factory director in charge of logistics, Li Huaide.

The two closed the door and deliberated for a long time, finally settling on a bold plan—take a portion of the mill's stored cloth and coarse grain, have Li Ping'an lead a team, dispatch two old Liberation‑brand trucks from the Security Section, and venture to Tianjin to trade with fishermen for fish!

The mission was extremely risky, the journey long and fraught with danger, and it was uncertain whether enough fish could be obtained. Yet for now, it was the only hope to quickly replenish the workers' nutrition.

Li Huaide looked at Li Ping'an, gave his shoulder a firm pat, and said, "Ping'an, the whole mill has thousands of mouths to feed; we're counting on this trip! Be careful!"

Li Ping'an nodded heavily.

After preparations, on a bitterly cold morning, two trucks laden with cloth and grain, escorted by Li Ping'an, Wang Dahu, and seven or eight armed Security officers, rolled out of the Steel Rolling Mill, bumping toward Tianjin.

The journey was long and arduous. The nearer they got to the coast, the more striking the famine scenes became. Along the road, emaciated disaster victims with hollow eyes could be seen staring at their convoy.

Upon reaching Tianjin, Li Ping'an did not delay; he immediately used local contacts to reach the heads of several fishing villages.

Negotiations were not smooth; the fishermen were also short of clothing and food, desperately needing cloth and grain, yet their catch was equally precious.

After repeated talks, they exchanged most of the brought supplies for a sizable batch of hard‑dried sea fish, chiefly cheap, abundant green‑skin fish and horse‑face fish, plus some relatively better yellow croaker dried fish.

The trade finished by evening. Li Ping'an had everyone set up camp at a relatively sheltered spot by the sea to rest, preparing to return at first light the next day.

Night fell, the sea wind howled, carrying a salty chill. After everyone fell asleep, Li Ping'an, under the pretext of a patrol, walked alone to the black shoreline far from the camp. He closed his eyes, spreading his Divine Perception like an invisible net, probing the raging sea.

Where his Divine Perception reached, the seafloor's scene flashed vividly in his mind: schools of silver‑shimmering ribbonfish, plump yellow croaker, and even some sea cucumbers—rarely caught in these times and highly nutritious—slowly wriggling among the reefs.

A thought sparked, and he carefully guided his Divine Perception, silently shifting a batch of vigorous, varied sea fish—including small salmon, medium yellow croaker, a few juvenile tuna that had strayed into shallow water, and many sea cucumbers—into the expanded salty zone of the Spiritual Spring Space.

Under the spatial rules, seawater naturally merged with Spiritual Spring Water, and the marine goods swam joyfully inside, as if they had found a new paradise.

Having finished, he let out a long sigh. With this sustainable "seafood repository," at least his own side and in critical moments would have an extra supply route.

The next day, the convoy, laden with salted dried fish, set out for home. Yet the real danger was just beginning.

When the convoy reached a remote mountain road, the path ahead was suddenly blocked by several large rocks and thick logs.

Almost simultaneously, from the earthen slopes beside the road, more than twenty men armed with clubs, kitchen knives, and even two old‑style hunting rifles burst out! Each gaunt, their eyes fierce as starving wolves.

"Stop the trucks! Leave the grain and cloth! Otherwise don't blame my weapons for not recognizing you!" the scar‑faced leader shouted, raising his hunting rifle at the lead truck's cabin.

"Head of the Department!" Wang Dahu and the Security officers on the truck instantly tensed, pulling the triggers.

Li Ping'an's face was stern, his eyes sharply scanning the opponents' numbers and weapons. In a low voice he ordered, "Don't panic! They're many, but few have guns. Follow my command, protect the vehicles and supplies! If needed, fire warning shots, aiming at non‑vital points!"

He pushed open the truck door, stepped out calmly, stood before the cab, and stared at the scarred man: "Brother, we're from the Capital's Red Star Steel Rolling Mill; the cargo is life‑saving grain for the workers and fish dried for them. Blocking the road to rob is a serious crime!"

"Cut the damn crap!" the scar‑faced man spat. "We're starving to death, who cares about crimes! Leave the stuff, and we'll spare your sorry lives!"

Seeing negotiations fail and the other side restless, Li Ping'an no longer hesitated and swung his hand sharply!

"Attack!"

In an instant, gunfire erupted! The Security officers were well‑trained, and though hunger sapped their strength, their marksmanship and tactical sense remained.

A few crisp shots struck the ground right before the feet of the foremost robbers, kicking up dust, startling them into frantic cries and halting their assault.

Yet the opponents were numerous, and hunger reddened their eyes; after a brief retreat they howled and surged forward again. In the melee, clubs clashed, fists and feet met. Li Ping'an, agile, snatched a swinging wooden club and swept a man to the ground. Wang Dahu, even more fierce, seized a kitchen knife with his bare hands, shielding Li Ping'an.

Amid the chaos, a muffled "bang" sounded as the opponent's hunting rifle fired, iron shot scraping the truck's canvas and leaving a few small holes.

"They really fired!" the Security officers exclaimed, both shocked and angry, and their retaliation showed no mercy. For a moment, wails, curses, and clashing sounds filled the air.

In the end, thanks to the firearms' deterrence and the Security officers' stronger discipline, the robbers abandoned a few wounded comrades and fled in disarray into the forest.

A headcount showed two Security Section members lightly injured, while five or six robbers remained—some moaning on the ground, others crouching with heads in their hands, trembling.

Li Ping'an's expression darkened; he ordered Wang Dahu to drive immediately to the nearest commune to report, while assigning people to guard the captives and the scene. He knew these people were far from ordinary famine victims; likely seasoned bandits were among them.

After everything was settled, the convoy set out again in the afternoon. A shadow fell over each person's heart, yet their resolve to deliver the supplies safely back to the mill hardened.

When the two trucks, brimming with salted dried fish, slowly rolled into the Steel Rolling Mill's gates in the night, the entire plant erupted in excitement!

Workers, hearing the news, streamed in from all directions; seeing the mountain‑sized pile of salty fish on the trucks, they broke into joyous smiles, as if they had finally seen meat again.

"Fish! It's fish‑dry!"

"The mill got fish!"

"Great! We can have meat now!"

Li Ping'an leapt from the truck, meeting Li Huaide's and the many plant leaders' excited, relieved gazes, and, weary yet resolute, nodded.

The next day, the mill's cafeteria wafted the long‑missed, rich aroma of fish broth. Though each worker's bowl might contain only a tiny piece of fish dried and a soup dotted with oil, for those with gnawing hunger it was undoubtedly the warmest, most tangible comfort of the cold winter.

Li Ping'an's name was once again praised by the mill's workers. And the newly added salty zone in his Spiritual Spring Space, teeming with various sea produce, became another hidden trump card for protecting his family and facing even harsher future challenges.

Only the harrowing ambush on the return trip made him starkly realize how chaotic the world outside had become. The road ahead was destined to be far from smooth.