Chapter 627: Buying Monkey Tickets

Adding the five hundred I have, it's roughly seven hundred, enough to buy a good number of Monkey Tickets.

Of course I can't hoard too many, otherwise they'll all be in his hands and no one will be able to flip them later.

The next day, Lu Cheng met up with Yang Yin and went to the Dongsi Postal and Telecommunications Bureau.

It seemed there were quite a few with overseas relatives; we waited in line for over ten minutes before being served.

The service hall was filled with the smell of glue and ink, a slogan "People's Postal and Telecommunications for the People" was posted on the wall, and beside it lay a yellowed international postage rate table.

Yang Yin took a kraft paper envelope from her canvas messenger bag; the envelope must have the return address written in Chinese and, in English, "To: U. S. A."

Yang Yin stood at the counter and asked, "Comrade, how much to send a letter to the United States?"

The clerk, a middle‑aged woman wearing sleeve guards, didn't look up and said, "Air mail under 20 g is one yuan each; surface mail under 20 g is forty cents."

Yang Yin glanced at Lu Cheng and said, "Then send it by air; it'll be faster."

Air mail arrives in ten days, while water routes take three months.

Just as Yang Yin was about to pull out the money, Lu Cheng had already slapped the cash onto the glass counter.

"Bang," the sound startled the woman, who then rolled her eyes, clutched her chest, and began to complain.

"Oh, little Comrade, having overseas relatives makes you feel so great! Look at you spending a yuan and a dime, you're almost acting as if you're spending a hundred yuan."

Seeing Lu Cheng get scolded, Yang Yin wanted to laugh but held herself back.

"Sorry, Comrade, I apologize on his behalf; could you add a registered stamp for me?"

"Then add another forty cents."

Spending an extra forty cents ensures the letter won't get lost; this time Yang Yin handed over the forty cents and didn't forget to add a reminder.

"There's a photo inside this letter; please don't run it through the machine. Thank you."

Yang Yin also mailed a recent family photo to her brother.

Seeing the young lady speak so politely, the clerk forced a thin smile.

Then she affixed the stamp, took a blue rubber seal from a metal box, and with a "bang" pressed it onto the lower left corner of the envelope, leaving an oval blue imprint bearing "BYAIRMAIL" and the characters for "air mail."

After everything was done, Yang Yin exhaled, "All right, in ten days it will reach the U. S. East Coast. Lu San'er, where shall we go later?"

Getting no reply, she turned her head and saw Lu Cheng had gone to another counter, staring at the Monkey Ticket he was holding.

The Monkey Ticket was just issued this year, the first zodiac stamp released, with a bright red background and an illustration of a seated black monkey.

Yang Yin leaned in, "Huh, this monkey is hideously ugly, just like you."

Lu Cheng glanced and laughed, "If you follow me, doesn't that make you a mother monkey?"

"To hell with you," Yang Yin kicked a foot and said, "Let's go quickly; it's crowded here, it's scorching, I want a cold soda."

"Sure, I'll take you to buy one later." Lu Cheng didn't leave; instead, he perched on the counter.

The ensuing conversation with the clerk made Yang Yin's eyes widen.

"Comrade, how many of these Monkey Tickets do you have left?"

The clerk kept that indifferent attitude, not looking up, and said, "We have plenty of Monkey Tickets; how many do you need?"

Lu Cheng mentally calculated: one Monkey Ticket is worth eight cents, a sheet contains eighty, totaling 6.4 yuan…

The cash on hand was enough for about a hundred sheets, i. e., eight thousand pieces.

Even if he spent all his money, Lu Cheng didn't think it was a lot.

Since the current circulation is about five million, buying eight thousand wouldn't significantly affect the market; at worst he could sell them in batches later.

The appreciation rate of this item was astonishing; starting next year, some stamp collectors began buying this Monkey Ticket in bulk, its price changing roughly every year.

By 1997, it had risen 35,000 times.

Later, a mint‑condition single fetched over ten thousand yuan.

So eight thousand pieces equal eighty million, and a whole sheet's price could even double.

Thinking of the future appreciation potential of Monkey Tickets, Lu Cheng's throat churned, and he forced down his excitement.

"Then give me a hundred sheets…"

Lu Cheng's outburst left the people queuing to send letters beside him staring in shock.

The clerk wore the same expression, only reacting half a minute later.

"Are you making fun of me! Which unit are you from? Are you idle! Can't you see how busy we are, and you're treating the sweat of us laboring people as nothing…"

The clerk was also incensed; goodness, to actually dare ask for eight thousand pieces outright.

Until Lu Cheng slapped a thick stack of Great Unity onto the counter, which was at least six hundred yuan.

The clerk fell silent, mouth still open, completely stunned.

"Really want a hundred sheets?"

"Really want a hundred sheets."

"You aren't joking with Big Sister, are you?"

"Seeing how you speak, why would I make a joke?"

"So are you an adult? You must have stolen money from home."

"What family are you talking about? He just pulls out over six hundred yuan, enough to buy a lot of pork."

"If it were for pork, that would be fine; at least you'd eat it."

"But this kid is buying stamps; although you need them for mailing, buying so many at once means you'd never finish sending letters."

Lu Cheng was speechless; the burly man being called a minor, he immediately pulled the still‑mouth‑open Yang Yin over.

"That's my wife; she's already given birth to ten children, how can you say I'm not an adult!"

The clerk glanced at Yang Yin, clearly an inexperienced young lady with a slender figure, nothing like a woman who'd borne ten children.

Seeing the clerk's disbelief, Lu Cheng said to Yang Yin, "Quick, call me husband; they're suspecting our relationship."

The term "husband" is now rare; when Yang Yin recovered, she didn't even blush and immediately tried to pull Lu Cheng away.

"You're crazy, what are you buying so many stamps for?"

"Ah, I have a use for them."

Lu Cheng must not miss this chance to make money while lying down.

Yang Yin extended a finger: "Do you have some other girl out there, buying so many stamps so you can write letters to her every day, right?"

This woman's way of thinking is just different.

Seeing that even Yang Yin couldn't make sense of it, and that this behavior truly can't be understood, Lu Cheng had to go find the clerk again.

Fortunately, after the clerk repeatedly confirmed, he finally brought out a hundred copies of Monkey Ticket from the warehouse.

Stuffed into his satchel, it bulged, and then, under the bewildered, stare‑like‑they‑were‑seeing‑a‑fool gazes of the onlookers, Lu Cheng exited the Postal and Telecommunications Bureau.

And those spectators, years later when they see the Monkey Tickets appreciating in the Newspaper, will recall that today a young fellow bought so many at once, not knowing what to feel.

Yang Yin, not as shameless as him, put the satchel over her head, hunched, and ran out first.

Just after stepping out, while walking quickly, she couldn't help muttering, "It's over, it's over, I'm going to marry a fool."

Lu Cheng laughed, hopped on his bicycle and followed, "Marry a chicken, follow a chicken; marry a dog, follow a dog. Your regret is too late now."

Yang Yin rolled her eyes, "You're really crazy, such a spendthrift. No, from now on I'll be the one handling the family money."

Lu Cheng smiled, rubbing her head, "Alright, you get to manage the money! Let's go, I'll take you to a dance hall where you can dance to black tunes."

Yang Yin thought it was just a place to dance, not realizing that a black‑tune dance hall is a venue of male pleasure and female love.