Chapter Seven: Preparation (Part One)

When the carriage arrived, the people in the alley quickly loaded their goods onto it. Several of them followed the carriage as it left, quietly chatting and laughing along the way. Clearly, their mood was quite good today—and Han Li, trailing far behind, felt cheerful as well. Who said they'd return empty-handed? This was nothing short of a resounding success.

Their backing was formidable; earlier, when they encountered a patrol, Han Li immediately hid. Yet the two groups exchanged cigarettes and a few words before parting ways. The pursuit was full of twists and turns, but at last, the group reached their destination.

It was a factory, its exterior abandoned and overgrown with weeds, with tracks from trucks running through the middle. Several sentries, both overt and hidden, kept watch nearby—Han Li had nearly stumbled into their trap. If not for his decomposition ability, which allowed his mental power to sense anything within ten meters, he might have been caught.

He avoided the sentries and, with agile strength in arms and legs, vaulted over the wall. The martial arts he’d practiced over the years weren’t for nothing—just the feat of scaling the wall was proof. Had this been the Han Li before his crossing, even a dog at his heels couldn’t have compelled him to such agility.

Guided by mental power, Han Li wound his way to a window beneath a large warehouse, where he found a lively scene inside.

“Brotherhood! Five Champions! Eight Horses! Clever Seven Gates! Come on, you’re way too slow to react!”

Well, they were already drinking—drinking was good, Han Li found it easier to handle matters when people drank. He scanned the warehouse with his mental power and saw, in one corner, a row of great vats filled with various grains, lard, soybean oil, white sugar, brown sugar (sometimes called black sugar), soap, towels, cured meat, eggs, air-dried rabbit, and more.

In a nearby cabinet were several goldfish, some money and tickets, and even two wristwatches. The memory of the last incident with the wall clock left him uneasy; wristwatches were far more delicate. Han Li dared not covet the watches, but he gladly accepted everything else.

Grains, lard, soybean oil, soap, white sugar, brown sugar, and the goldfish—all these simple items entered Han Li’s decomposition space first. The cured meat and air-dried rabbit, transformed into small pieces, followed soon after. But what to do with towels—should he split them into two pieces?

Here, danger lurked and the night was long; Han Li had no time to ponder. Two pieces, then—at worst, they’d serve as rags or foot towels. Only the eggs remained in the vats, impossible for him to decompose, perhaps because his skill wasn’t advanced enough.

With the din of finger-guessing games echoing in the warehouse, Han Li wiped away his traces and quietly slipped away.

Having succeeded, Han Li settled down, content as ever. He was a man easily satisfied.

That day, he took Yu Daqiang out for fun. In the morning, they strolled through Dongfeng Market on Wangfujing Street—the best department store around, with six floors above ground and one below. Here, not only could you buy the best goods in the country, but occasionally some foreign items as well. It was known as “New China’s First Store.” Han Li bought chess, Go, checkers, military chess—games to pass the time.

Afterward, for two cents, they bought popsicles and sat by the roadside, watching the crowds. Yu Daqiang kept licking his popsicle, a gesture that made Han Li queasy, but most people ate them that way now; there was nothing to be said.

After finishing, they went to the Wangfujing Xinhua Bookstore next door and bought several books suitable for the era. Once home, the weather turned hot, so the two headed to the lakeside to swim. Swimming was truly popular now—just look at the number of men, young and old, in the water.

On the way back, they bought a bottle of orange-flavored Beibingyang soda from Factory No. 2—fifteen cents a bottle. Considering a sesame bun cost just three cents, that was like eating five big buns in one go. Still, Han Li wanted to taste it himself, to see how this soda—so laden with childhood memories for those born in the '70s and '80s—really tasted.

Returning home, he found Han Xiaomei standing by the stove in the heat, sweating profusely. Upon closer look, she was boiling cloth in an enamel basin.

“Little sister, what are you doing?”

“Brother, you’re back! Second sister sent over a piece of labor cloth today, said she’d make you two sets of clothes for working in the fields.”

“This labor cloth is durable, but its deep blue color absorbs heat, and it fades easily.”

“I’m boiling it so most of the color comes out, turning it into a nice light blue.”

Han Li… well, he only knew that dark colors absorbed heat; the rest was beyond him.

“It’s too hot—wait a bit before you work. Don’t get heatstroke.”

Han Xiaomei replied, “It’s almost done! Oh, brother, I saved a small piece unboiled.”

“Many people sew two unboiled patches onto the knees and backside—one, it looks good; two, it’s more durable. Brother, do you want me to sew them? I can cut them into any pattern you like.”

Han Li quickly waved his hand. Wearing patched clothes was normal these days, but his family had few patched garments. Favorite patterns? The thought of cute little animals on his backside made him shudder. He wasn’t that kawaii, nor was he eccentric; he’d rather not wear such clothes.

Mother came home from work, carrying a strip of meat, but her expression was far from cheerful.

Han Xiaomei greeted her, but before she could take the meat, she noticed something was wrong.

“Mom, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?”

“It’s nothing. Today, your brother’s destination for rural work was decided; he’ll leave in three days. Cook the meat—I’ll go lie down for a bit.”

Her words came with a distinct nasal tone. She handed the meat to Han Xiaomei and retreated to her room.

Han Li emerged from his room only to see his mother’s back.

“Brother…”

“It’s fine, I heard everything. Since rural work was decided, it was bound to happen.”

“You go cook—I’ll talk to Mom.”

When he entered, his mother tried to compose herself, but her tear-streaked face couldn’t be concealed.

“Mom, don’t be like this. It’s just a stint in the countryside, isn’t it?”

“We talked about this days ago—there’s family support, I won’t suffer or struggle.”

“When the time comes, I’ll turn around and come back. Just think of it as me being sent on a work trip after joining the workforce.”

Han Li spoke as he took a towel from the basin rack and handed it over. His mother wiped her face.

“You rascal, you make it sound so easy…”