Chapter Thirty-Five: Not Even as Good as a Few Children

Han Li still felt uneasy even after hiding it inside the book. What if, when it was time to pay, someone discovered it? Staring at the bundle of newspapers, Han Li discreetly moved the stamps into the newspapers he had selected himself.

Only after completing all this did he finally let out a breath of relief. After all, this was the legendary "A Red Map Across China" stamp issued in 1968.

Due to an error in the map design, the stamp was urgently recalled just half a day after its release, with only a few sold at select post offices. As a result, it was extremely rare and precious. At the 1996 Jiade Autumn Auction, a single "A Red Map Across China" stamp fetched over 300,000 yuan. By the Spring Auction of 1997, its price had doubled, ultimately selling for 748,000 yuan.

Later that same year, at the Guangzhou Stamp Expo in October, an entire pristine sheet of fifty "A Red Map Across China" stamps was exhibited for the first time. That complete sheet was hailed as a national treasure, with a market value of over ten million yuan.

Han Li had just, in effect, picked up ten million from 1997 for free, sending his heart racing—a feeling that had yet to settle. After returning home, he was determined to find a good place to keep it safe. When the time came, who knew how many houses it could buy?

Han Li shook his head, quickening his pace as he flipped through the rest of the old books. Sadly, in the end he emerged dusty and empty-handed, finding nothing similar. Greed, he mused, was never rewarded.

Mocking himself, Han Li dusted off his hands, picked up the newspapers and books, and went to the entrance to find the old man to settle the bill.

The old man barely lifted his eyelids, glanced at the items, and drawled, "Two bundles of newspapers and three books. That’ll be fifty cents."

Han Li immediately handed over the coins, and it wasn’t until he left the recycling station that he finally relaxed completely.

He then headed toward the state-run restaurant. Last time, pressed for time, he’d only bought a few meat buns. This time, no matter what, he was determined to experience the local state-run restaurant properly. It was neither early nor late, so there weren’t many people inside.

Looking up at the menu, Han Li went to the window and said to the attendant, "Two steamed buns, one order of braised pork ribs, and a bowl of egg soup."

The attendant lazily took his money and ration tickets, brushing him off with a curt, "Wait here."

But Han Li was in high spirits today, and when the dishes came, he ate with real enjoyment. The chef’s skills weren’t anything special, but the quality of the ingredients more than made up for it—nothing in the future could compare to these pigs.

The portion of braised ribs was generous, and the big, white steamed buns were sizable as well.

After finishing everything, Han Li burped contentedly, reflecting that the state-run restaurant was quite honest. But it wasn’t something he could afford to eat often; his meat ration tickets were running low.

That thought dampened his mood, and he left the restaurant with a trace of resignation. Still, before leaving, he bought a few more big steamed buns. While it looked like he tossed them into his basket, in reality, they went straight into his decomposition space.

By the time Han Li caught up with Guan Guan and You You at the water jar market, Hao Hongmin and Yang Xiuying were already waiting, looking quite bored.

When they saw Han Li approach, their eyes lit up and they immediately stood.

"Han Li, you’re finally here. We’ve already checked the prices for the water jars and crocks," one of them said.

"Let’s hurry and buy what we need so we can get back. It’s rare to get a day off—I want to rest when I get home," another chimed in.

"Rest? Wishful thinking. Do you want to paste the walls when we get back?" Han Li teased.

"And won’t the water jars and crocks need to be washed? After that, someone has to fill them up, right?"

Yang Xiuying squirmed at Han Li’s words and sighed, "If I’d known, I would’ve stayed home today. There’s really nothing to do in this little county town."

Hao Hongmin cut in, "Alright, let’s get the shopping done so we can finish early and rest."

"Yes, once we have the water jars, I’m going to boil five pots of hot water and then..." said Yang Xiuying, but before she could finish, Hao Hongmin pulled her away. Even without finishing the sentence, Han Li knew what she meant: with plenty of hot water, she could finally have a good bath. Still, it wasn’t something she’d want to say outright in front of him.

A horse-drawn cart wobbled its way toward Shanghe Village, loaded with two large water jars, two smaller grain jars, and six pickle crocks.

The three of them walked alongside the cart—they weren’t allowed to ride, which was, well, great exercise for their legs. Fortunately, the pace was slow due to the fragile cargo, so they managed to keep up.

Returning to the village, they immediately attracted attention. Some villagers couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy—these three educated youths really had money. Newly built houses, and now so many new things. Their families had accumulated such household goods bit by bit, while these three managed to buy everything in one go.

After unloading the cart, everyone set about their assigned tasks. Han Li was in charge of washing all the jars and crocks, then helping Hao Hongmei and the others fill them with water.

Meanwhile, Hao Hongmin and Yang Xiuying mixed paste and helped Han Li paper the walls with old newspapers. As Han Li was carrying a jar into his house, he quietly dug a small pit in the floor, lined it with wood, and finally placed the "Red Map" stamp, wrapped in several layers of oil paper, inside.

Wall-pasting was a job that required care and patience; it was slow and tedious. Han Li managed to fill all the jars with water, but by then the two women had only finished two walls.

"The water’s all done," Han Li announced. "I’m not much help with the fine work—you two take your time. Since there’s still daylight, I’m heading into the hills for a bit. Just remember to lock up when you leave."

After saying goodbye, Han Li shouldered his basket and headed into the mountains, with a clear goal in mind. He intended to catch two sparrows and train them. Otherwise, all the headaches he’d suffered would have been for nothing.

Now that he had his own house, it was much easier to take care of such things. He planned to send some cured meat and dried rabbit from his decomposition space home, to show his family that he was living well. Otherwise, no matter how reassuring his letters were, they wouldn’t believe him.

He chose sparrows because they were common, and unlike migratory birds, they would stay nearby. Once caught, he would train them as scouts to help him find game. He wasn’t ambitious enough to hope for wild boars, sika deer, or black bears; regular pheasants and rabbits would be more than enough.

It was a good plan, but reality had other ideas.

Were sparrows really that easy to catch? No matter how nimble he was, they hopped and flew away before he even got close.

After wandering for ages without catching a single sparrow, he ended up decomposing some rocks and returned with an armful of firewood from the mountain.

When he got back to the village, reality gave him a second slap in the face, leaving him wondering if he was a fool. Several local kids—Iron Egg, Iron Pillar, and Second Sister—were laughing happily on their way out of the village, carrying a cloth bag full of sparrows, ready to roast them for a meal.