Deep inside the abandoned textile factory, the light was dim. Behind the collapsed concrete pillars lay a dead corner overgrown with waist-high weeds.
Su Nianqiu stopped walking, leaning her back against the moss-covered concrete pillar. With her hands tucked into the sleeves of her tattered cotton-padded jacket and her back slightly hunched, she looked exactly like a cautious old farmer from the countryside.
The man in the Zhongshan suit followed her. After glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention, he swallowed hard and spoke in a low voice, “Brother, let’s have a look?”
Su Nianqiu remained silent. Slowly, she pulled out the cloth bundle from her chest. Before it was fully unwrapped, the overpowering, rich scent of ginseng, carrying the fragrance of soil and vegetation, wafted out.
The man’s eyes instantly lit up with an almost frightening intensity. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his hands vigorously on his clothes before carefully taking the cloth bundle and peeling back the final layer of cotton cloth.
Though the light was dim, he could see it clearly.
It was a ginseng rootlet, no thicker than a little finger. Not a whole ginseng, just a single rootlet.
But this rootlet had a skin that appeared almost transparent, like amber, with clear, distinct veins. The tip of the rootlet even carried a hint of fresh moisture.
“This… this quality…” The man’s hands began to tremble. Working in the logistics department of the county hospital, he had seen plenty of good medicinal herbs. Those so-called decades-old wild ginsengs were shriveled like dried twigs—how could they compare to the vitality of this?
Even if it was just a rootlet, its medicinal potency was likely far stronger than those half-century-old whole ginsengs on the market.
“Brother, where did you get this?” The man looked up, staring intently at Su Nianqiu’s face, smeared with soot.
Su Nianqiu pulled down the brim of her hat, her voice rough as sandpaper. “Dug it up from deep in the mountains. If you’re only asking about its origin and not discussing the deal, I’ll take it back.”
She made as if to leave.
“No! Don’t!” The man quickly pulled his hand back, clutching the cloth bundle to his chest. “I want it!”
Su Nianqiu stopped moving and tucked her hands back into her sleeves. “Since you recognize its value, name your price.”
The man gritted his teeth and held up four fingers. “Four hundred yuan.”
In this era, four hundred yuan could build three large tile-roofed houses in the countryside—equivalent to a year and a half’s wages for an ordinary worker. On the black market, it was more than enough to buy a whole thirty-year-old wild ginseng.
But he knew the rootlet in his hand was different.
Su Nianqiu chuckled softly.
She reached out a hand, accurately pinched a corner of the cloth bundle, and tugged it back. “You’re trying to take advantage of my ignorance. You know how many years this rootlet has grown in the soil. Four hundred yuan? Keep it for buying ordinary goods.”
The man panicked, gripping the cloth bundle tightly and refusing to let go. “Brother, let’s talk this over! If the price isn’t right, we can negotiate!”
Su Nianqiu didn’t release her grip, staring at him. “Final price: eight hundred. Also, I don’t want the full amount in cash. I want ration coupons. National grain coupons, meat coupons, cloth coupons, sugar coupons, and industrial vouchers. I’ll take as many as you have, and the rest can be made up with cash.”
The man gasped sharply. Eight hundred! This little old man really dared to ask for that much!
But he glanced down at the fragrant rootlet in his hand, thought of his father lying critically ill on the hospital bed, and gritted his teeth. “Fine! Eight hundred it is! I have the coupons!”
He carefully tucked the cloth bundle close to his body, then unbuttoned his Zhongshan suit and pulled out a thick kraft paper envelope from the inner pocket.
“I came prepared with my entire savings to find medicine today,” the man said, handing the envelope to Su Nianqiu. “Inside are six hundred yuan in large bills. For the remaining two hundred, I’ll make up the difference with ration coupons. Count them.”
Su Nianqiu took the envelope. It felt substantial. Without counting the money in detail, she directly pulled out the stack of coupons tucked inside.
Colorful ration coupons: fifty catties of national grain coupons. These were the most valuable—usable as cash anywhere.
Twenty catties of meat coupons.
Three zhang of cloth coupons.
Twenty industrial coupons.
There were also White Rabbit milk candy coupons, malted milk coupons, and soap coupons.
What surprised Su Nianqiu the most was a brand-new “Flying Pigeon” brand bicycle coupon tucked inside.
“This bicycle coupon…” Su Nianqiu tapped the coupon with her rough fingers.
The man quickly explained, “This is a quota my work unit just issued. On the black market, this coupon alone can sell for one hundred and fifty yuan. Combined with these grain and meat coupons, it’s definitely worth more than two hundred yuan. Brother, you’re only gaining, not losing.”
Su Nianqiu quickly calculated in her mind. Indeed, it wasn’t a loss. In this era where coupons were needed for everything, these hard currencies were more useful than plain cash. Especially that bicycle coupon—something money alone couldn’t buy.
She folded the envelope neatly and tucked it into the inner pocket of her undergarments.
“Deal,” Su Nianqiu said decisively.
The man let out a long sigh of relief, as if a great burden had been lifted. He looked at Su Nianqiu gratefully. “Brother, my surname is Zhou. If you ever have more of this kind of good stuff in the future, come to this black market and find the bald man at the entrance. Have him pass a message to me. The price will definitely satisfy you!”
Su Nianqiu didn’t respond. She pressed down the brim of her hat, turned, and quickly blended into the crowd along the wall of the abandoned factory building, disappearing from sight.
The man watched the direction she had left, touched the ginseng root in his chest pocket, and hurried toward the black market exit. His old father’s life could be saved.
Su Nianqiu left the black market, winding through the alleyways until she was certain no one was following her, then slipped into a half-collapsed, dilapidated temple.
Inside the temple, weeds grew rampant, and spiderwebs covered everything.
She slipped into the Spatial Dimension.
The Spirit Spring Water remained crystal clear. Su Nianqiu crouched by the spring, using the cool water to wash the soot and dry dirt from her face. The icy water splashed against her skin, washing away the day’s heat.
She took off the patched-up men’s cotton-padded jacket and unwrapped the cloth band binding her chest. Taking a deep breath, her full bosom rose once more.
Changing back into her own gray coat and earthy-colored headscarf, she neatly combed her hair.
In less than ten minutes, the withered, rough-looking old man was gone. In his place stood Su Nianqiu, the charming village belle with a slender figure, fair skin, bright eyes, and pearly white teeth.
She touched the thick stack of large bills and coupons in her inner pocket.
Eight hundred yuan plus a pile of hard currency coupons.
In an era where the average person earned only a dozen yuan a month, she was now a minor wealthy woman.
Her first bucket of gold was secured.
Su Nianqiu walked out of the dilapidated temple, stretching under the midday July sun. The little one in her belly seemed to sense its mother’s joy, moving ever so slightly.
Su Nianqiu touched her flat stomach, a smile curling at the corner of her lips. “Let’s go, baby. Mom’s taking you to spend money. We’re heading to the supply and marketing cooperative.”