Chapter 333: Stamp Collecting

The power struggles surging with undercurrents inside the Steel Rolling Mill, the trivial daily squabbles in the Siheyuan, all seemed separated from Li Ping'an by an invisible barrier.

He still went to work and came back steady as ever, educating his son, accompanying his wife and daughter, but in places unseen by others, his far‑sighted gaze beyond the era had already turned toward another broader, more hidden 'battlefield'—the world of stamps confined to a few square inches.

That weekend, taking advantage of the fine weather, Li Ping'an told Lin Xueqing he was going to the post office to mail a letter, then rode his bicycle alone to the larger postal substation near Wangfujing.

Inside the post office, people came and went, mostly handling remittances, sending or collecting parcels, or buying ordinary stamps for daily use; the air was filled with the distinctive smell of paste and old paper.

Li Ping'an did not go to the crowded counter but headed straight to the relatively quiet stamp counter nearby; the old master behind the counter, wearing reading glasses, was leisurely sorting stamp albums.

"Comrade, I'd like to look at some stamps," Li Ping'an said in a calm tone.

The old master raised his head, sized up the young man before him in ordinary Zhongshan attire but with a steady, restrained demeanor, somewhat surprised. These days, people who come specifically for stamp collecting are rare; most are cultured elderly gentlemen or officials.

"What kind of stamps do you want to see?" the old master asked, pushing up his glasses, his tone still polite.

Li Ping'an's gaze swept over the sample albums displayed on the counter; he already had a clear target in mind.

Relying on his vague memories from a previous life and the information he had deliberately gathered in this one, he knew that at this time, some stamps that would be priceless in the future were still lying quietly in the postal system's warehouses, or being used as ordinary postage, without attracting much attention.

"Excuse me, I'd like to see the 'Great Dragon' stamps, if you have any," Li Ping'an said softly, yet his words made the old master's hand pause slightly.

"Great Dragon stamps?" the old master studied Li Ping'an again, his eyes gaining a hint of inquiry, "Those are old stamps from the Qing dynasty; we might not have them here……"

"No matter, please help me look for them," Li Ping'an said, his expression unchanged but his tone carrying an unquestionable certainty.

The old master hesitated a moment, then turned and rummaged through the cabinets at the back. After a while, he came out holding several yellowed paper bags, which he placed carefully on the glass counter.

"That's all we have; the condition is fairly intact, but they may not be complete sets," the old master said.

Li Ping'an took the paper bags and examined them carefully. Inside was China's first set of stamps—the Great Dragon Stamp! Although the paper was somewhat yellowed and individual perforations slightly worn, the design was clear, the colors sober, and the dragon pattern soaring through clouds conveyed a sense of historical weight.

He suppressed his excitement, carefully distinguishing the denominations (1 fen silver, 3 fen silver, 5 fen silver), piecing together the loose stamps, and finally assembled two or three sets. Each set cost only a few yuan, which at the time was a considerable amount of 'spare money,' yet Li Ping'an paid without blinking.

"Also the 'Blue Military' stamps," he continued his request, "those issued last year with a blue background, used by military personnel."

The old master was even more surprised; this stamp set had a short issuance period and was quickly recalled for certain reasons, so few copies circulated, yet he hadn't expected this young man to know about it as well.

He searched for a while before finding a thin envelope containing a dozen or so pristine blue stamps, their design depicting soldiers of the navy, army, and air force.

"This…… the stock is limited; how many would you like?"

"I'll take them all." Li Ping'an repeated those words. He knew how rare this set of Blue Military stamps would become in the future.

Next, he specifically requested the 'Tiananmen Radiant Light' stamps. This set, because the printing gave the Tiananmen design rays of rosy light like brilliant radiance, was soon deemed insufficiently solemn and discontinued after release, leaving few surviving copies. The old master had practically grown numb to such requests, yet he fetched some as asked.

Furthermore, relying on his memory, Li Ping'an bought the commemorative and special stamps issued at this time that had considerable future appreciation potential—such as the classic themes 'Goldfish,' 'Chrysanthemum,' and 'Huangshan Landscape'—without hesitation, as long as they were complete sets in good condition. He bought only a small quantity, just one or two sets of each, to avoid unnecessary attention, yet the variety he acquired was quite comprehensive.

His behavior drew the sideways glances of the counter master and a few nearby stamp enthusiasts. Some thought this young man truly willing to spend money on these 'uneatable, undrinkable' slips of paper; others muttered privately, believing his vision was unique, that he was buying stamps with 'something to say.'

Li Ping'an turned a deaf ear to the surrounding chatter. He knew full well that these seemingly insignificant little slips of paper would, in the future, hold a value far surpassing the modest sum of cash he had just spent.

This was not merely a monetary return, but also a way of collecting history, a wisdom of preserving wealth in turbulent times by depositing it in the most inconspicuous and safest manner.

After paying, he placed the carefully packed stamps in the paper bags into his canvas carry‑bag, thanked the old master, and left the post office calmly.

Returning to the Siheyuan, he made no fuss, and did not even immediately take out the stamps to admire. Only when night grew deep and the family had fallen asleep did he, under the lamp, carefully retrieve today's haul.

In the soft light, the stamps lay still on the tabletop—the vicissitudes of the Great Dragon stamps, the scarcity of the Blue Military stamps, the uniqueness of the Tiananmen Radiant Light stamps, and the exquisite designs of those commemorative and special stamps… each one resembled a slice of an era, containing unique historical and cultural value.

He did not, as he would with antiques, store them in the Spiritual Spring Space; instead, he took out a dedicated stamp album, protective sleeves, and tweezers, and began to organize, categorize, and store these stamps one by one according to the catalogue and classification. His movements were gentle and focused, as if handling fragile treasures.

He knew these items could not be liquidated now, nor easily shown to others. They needed time to settle, awaiting a suitable opportunity. He placed the organized stamp album into the bottom layer of an inconspicuous camphor‑wood chest, together with some other important family documents.

Having done all that, he blew out the lamp, lay back on the kang. Outside the window the moonlight was hazy, the Siheyuan all quiet. Yet his heart felt completely at ease.

Gold antiques are certainly precious, but their target is too large and the risk high. Whereas these tiny stamps, unobtrusive and easy to preserve, will see their value explode geometrically at some future point. This undoubtedly adds a hidden yet solid safeguard for the family's future.

The struggles in the factory, the trifles in the courtyard, seemed to have become distant. He closed his eyes, and what rose in his mind was not power and scheming, but those exquisite patterns confined to a few square inches, bearing history and the future.

This silent accumulation, far more than the outside clamor, made him feel fulfilled and at peace. He would resolutely continue down this unique path of collecting.