Chapter 210

"Alright then, let's look at the goods and pay tomorrow."

"Done."

The current Tong Siye can only be considered a middle-aged man with slight fat-covered muscle; the potbelly he had before has completely disappeared.

It is fortunate that he has been drinking Tiger Penis Wine; otherwise, Zhang Ping'an would have been afraid that his long-term consumption of wild honey would lead to excessive estrogen secretion, resulting in overly developed pectoral muscles.

Zhang Ping'an snuck back home, afraid of waking Wang Xiaoling, and went straight to sleep in the side room. The next morning, Zhang Ping'an was woken up by his powerful biological clock and began his day's exercise.

Arriving at the pig farm in the morning, he made his usual simple rounds. Seeing the busy figures of everyone, the pigs gobbling up their feed, and the lush greenery of the pasture, Zhang Ping'an smiled with satisfaction.

At this time, a large boiler stood in the Fermentation Room, which could ensure the temperature of the Fermentation Room while also providing hot water for the pig farm.

"Not bad, not bad." Another day of slacking off and goofing around.

In the early morning, Zhang Ping'an arrived at the trading spot as promised, carrying top-quality fresh frozen Big Yellow Fish, dried abalone, sea cucumber, and spiny lobster.

This time, Zhang Ping'an saw a stranger standing next to Tong Siye.

"Brother Chang'an, this is Mo, few can match his knowledge of sea fish."

"Done, here are the samples, take a look." Zhang Ping'an casually handed the cloth bag to the one called Mo.

The moment the long-faced Mo saw the Big Yellow Fish, he looked like a lecher seeing a beauty, his expression extremely exaggerated, followed by the abalone, sea cucumber, and spiny lobster.

"Top quality, all top quality! This dried abalone even reaches the level of top-grade two-headed abalone, which could only be eaten in the palace in the past." Mo's hands were trembling slightly.

"Ahem, Mo, how much is this worth?"

Mo was stunned, only then realizing that he had been sent over to appraise the goods and haggle; in his excitement, he had blurted out the whole truth.

"Ahem, but that was all in the past; this stuff is just pork-price nowadays."

Tong Siye was also speechless. The higher-ups sent you to haggle, not to cause trouble. How could you haggle like that? Not to mention what year and month this is. But he could only bite the bullet and ask.

"Brother, what do you think of this price?"

"Brother Si, just take these as a gift from me to eat. Let's not talk about this business; it's easy to hurt our friendship."

"..."

"Brother, look at what you're saying. Mo has been staying at home for a long time and doesn't get out, so he might not understand the market. How about you name a price, brother?"

"Alright then. One thousand for the dried abalone, three hundred for the sea cucumber, and two hundred each for the Big Yellow Fish and the lobsters."

"Ahem." Tong Siye glanced at Mo, and seeing him nod slightly, he agreed immediately.

"Done, let's do as you say, brother."

"Follow me."

Zhang Ping'an placed ten large burlap sacks twelve meters ahead. In the end, Zhang Ping'an achieved his biggest record since trading began: seventy-five Big Yellow Fish.

"Brother Si, I've left a good thing for you." Zhang Ping'an kicked the sack at his feet; the soft-shelled turtle inside was still squirming.

"Brother, what's inside here?"

"Ahem, a big soft-shelled turtle weighing over five jin."

"Whoa!" Tong Siye directly untied the sack and shone his flashlight, seeing a fierce turtle head.

"Hahaha, brother, you are really too polite."

This is a top-notch nourishing ingredient, especially in winter; stewed with medicinal herbs, the taste is incredible.

Tong Siye's displeasure from Zhang Ping'an's high price just now also vanished instantly. He wouldn't get much of the rest anyway; what he got in his own hands was what mattered.

Zhang Ping'an returned home happily. He wasn't afraid of the remnants of the old era enjoying themselves; he was only afraid they wouldn't. The monthly two or three trades combined barely caught up to this one.

On the twenty-fifth day of the twelfth lunar month, Director Wang came again. Everyone had a bad premonition. Seeing everyone's reaction, Director Wang was also very helpless.

"Ahem, quiet down. According to the adjustment notice from above, the ration will be cut by another ten percent after the New Year. I hope everyone will work together to overcome the difficulties."

Director Wang didn't wait for anyone to react and hurried off to notify the next Siheyuan.

"How are we supposed to live?"

"Sigh."

"Next year is going to be hard to get through."

The multi-worker families of the Siheyuan gathered again under the call of Yi Zhonghai to hold a meeting.

"Let's each contribute five yuan. Let's buy more sweet potatoes before the New Year so everyone can at least have a full New Year."

"Mm."

"That works."

"Done."

Just like that, the fifty yuan from the eight families was all handed over to Yan Bugui. That night, several poor households followed Yan Bugui to buy back over one hundred and twenty jin of sweet potatoes, and each family was allocated over twenty jin, enough for them to have a full New Year.

On the twenty-seventh day of the twelfth lunar month, Zhang Ping'an took his wife and children to his father-in-law's house again, had a simple lunch, and returned.

On the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth lunar month, Zhang Ping'an delivered four hundred jin of Wild Boar Meat and several dozen jin of Big Bone to each of the two Sub-bureaus, and took the opportunity to interview Li Baoguo about his experience using the wine.

"Uncle Li, how is the effect of the Medicinal Wine?"

"Hey, you brat, ahem, it's alright."

"Hehe, I brought you another bottle. You'd better take it easy."

"Go on, go on." Li Baoguo's old face flushed from being teased, but he had indeed experienced the feeling of his youthful, frivolous days a few times this month.

This bottle can last for one hundred days, and it's not meant to be drunk every day. Normally, two bottles per person is definitely enough for a year, excluding the remnants of the old era, of course.

On the way home, Zhang Ping'an put quite a few New Year goods on his tricycle—chicken, duck, fish, meat, eggs, pastries, and firecrackers—and covered them with a burlap sack before heading home.

Previously, Yan Bugui used the twenty-one yuan donated monthly by the eight multi-worker families to buy over fifty jin of sweet potatoes at the Black Market. Divided among the five families, it was barely enough for a growing boy's monthly ration.

People had been eyeing the wheat in Zhang Ping'an's field, but as soon as it was harvested, more than half was taken away by his two sisters' families. Added to the twelve people in Zhang Ping'an's household, and since neither of them were heavy laborers, their monthly ration wasn't much, so no one brought it up again.

"Ping'an, did anyone see you buy so many things?"

"No, I covered them tightly."

"That's good."

Outside, everyone looked more or less sallow; those in their courtyard were better off, though they were also thin, only Zhang Ping'an's family looked rosy-cheeked, but everyone knew Zhang Ping'an could hunt, so they couldn't be jealous.

On the morning of New Year's Eve, the Rolling Mill distributed benefits, giving out one jin of pork; the Rolling Mill employees all looked happy, thinking the pig hadn't been raised in vain.

Zhang Ping'an gave the pork directly to Jia Dongxu, and adding the three jin from San Jie Fu and Lao Jia, it was enough for their family to make dumplings.

"Another year has passed."

Unknowingly, Zhang Ping'an had been in this world for twelve years already, and his actual age this year was twenty-four.

"What's wrong, Brother Ping'an?"

"It's nothing, I was just thinking about the past; let's go, let's go make dumplings."

Zhang Ping'an had practiced rolling dumpling wrappers until he was skilled; with a rolling pin in one hand and a piece of dough in the other, he could produce one in a few seconds, and he could keep up with the three of them wrapping, though his own wrapping was still not good, as they all ended up lying flat.

Before nine o'clock, they had already wrapped five trays, enough to eat for several days.

"Dad, Mom, Xiao Ling, go wash up and get some sleep."

His father, Zhang Laohan, was already sixty-six this year, and although he looked to be in his early fifties, Zhang Ping'an didn't intend to let him stay up late anymore, as he himself was enough to keep watch for the New Year.

"I don't need to; let the two of us stay up together."

"That works too."

At twelve o'clock, they set off firecrackers and boiled a plate of dumplings; the two of them didn't call anyone else, ate them together, and afterwards went to wash up and sleep separately.