Tong Xiaoxi bought a hard seat ticket, and luck was on her side today—someone had just returned theirs.
Otherwise, this seat would not have fallen to her.
Nowadays, plenty of people traveled from Laibin City to the provincial capital every day to procure goods. To get a seat, one had to buy from scalpers.
These ticket scalpers would ask for double the ticket price right off the bat, or even higher.
Trains at this time were very slow and prone to delays, taking over eight hours to reach the provincial capital.
This was the terminus, so there were still plenty of empty seats on the train. People sitting in twos and threes were all traveling to Bin City to get goods; whether they knew each other or not, they sat together drinking, chatting, and talking loudly.
The entire hard seat carriage was a chaotic mess. Those without seats simply grabbed a small stool to sit in the aisle, while some even crawled under the seats or onto the luggage racks to sleep.
As those people drank, words like “Russians” or “qianqian” spilled from their mouths from time to time.
Every time Tong Xiaoxi was on the verge of dozing off, she would hear a shout of “qianqian” and instinctively open her eyes, feeling as though someone were calling her name every single time.
For the first time, she felt that being called “Xiaoya” wasn’t so bad after all!
What was “qianqian”?
“Qianqian” simply meant exchange or trade.
Russia and China had signed a barter trade agreement, which meant exchanging goods.
“Qianqian” originally derived from the English word “change,” though how it eventually evolved into “qianqian” remained a mystery.
In any case, the term was popular exclusively in a few border port cities. Whether it was the Russians or the locals of Laibin City, as long as someone said “qianqian,” everyone knew it meant trading goods.
This word belonged neither to Russian, nor Chinese, nor English.
In a place like Laibin City, virtually the entire populace was engaged in “qianqian”—from eighty-year-old men down to eight-year-old children, everyone knew what “qianqian” meant.
Ultimately, Tong Xiaoxi rolled up two small pieces of toilet paper to plug her ears, yet through the haze of sleep, she could still vaguely hear echoes of “qianqian.”
Trains back then stopped at every single station, and before long, the carriage became increasingly crowded.
Daylight broke, and they arrived at the provincial capital.
An overwhelming crowd of people disembarked at the provincial capital, which was also the time pickpockets began making their moves.
People jostled against one another, and Tong Xiaoxi could already feel someone repeatedly testing her.
People like her, carrying only a small cloth bag without any bulky luggage, were typically there to procure goods.
Although she dressed very simply, slinging a triangular patterned cloth bag over her shoulder, these pickpockets were not to be fooled by appearances.
In the 1990s, the more low-profile someone dressed, the more likely they were carrying huge sums of cash.
A hand reached over, groping around. Tong Xiaoxi casually grabbed the wrist, her fingers moving slightly as she slid across his middle finger, causing the hand to retract instantly.
Tong Xiaoxi continued walking forward. Upon stepping off the train, she glanced back to see a young man in a blue shirt waving his right wrist, shouting, “What happened to my hand?”
Tong Xiaoxi curled her lip. What happened?
You won’t be able to steal anything ever again!
Fellow passengers looked at him as if he were a lunatic, brushing past him to disembark without a second thought.
Leaving the train station, Tong Xiaoxi was in no rush to buy a return train ticket, heading straight to catch a bus instead.
Currently, the civil air defense underground market was the only place in Bin City wholesaling clothing, shoes, and hats.
It didn’t open until six o’clock, so arriving early, she found a place to eat steamed buns first. Food coupons had not yet been abolished, but many private small eateries no longer required them.
There were also many price-negotiable and privately owned grain and oil stores on the streets; their prices were slightly higher than state-owned grain stores, but one could buy grain without a grain booklet.
Tong Xiaoxi purchased a small handcart specifically used for hauling goods.
Of the five thousand yuan Lei Wanguo gave her, she handed four thousand back to Wang Yumei so she could pay off the remaining debts.
She still had over one thousand yuan left in hand, which was more than enough to procure goods.
The moment the doors to the civil air defense underground market opened, the crowd waiting outside swarmed in like mad.
They were all people from various cities and counties across Long Province.
Tong Xiaoxi specifically chose floral dresses or shirts, demanding oversized sizes—at least four or five XLs and above, with six XLs being the absolute best.
A single dress cost only eight or nine yuan at wholesale, at most around a dozen yuan, so she didn’t stock particularly high-end items. A pair of travel shoes ranged from twenty-five to thirty yuan.
Fake Adidas were everywhere.
The Russians really liked these kinds of shoes.
A tracksuit set cost thirty yuan, and she procured ten sets.
All in the largest sizes.
Procuring goods required accurate judgment; the Russians didn’t just accept anything, and making the wrong choices meant getting stuck with inventory.
She placed part of the goods into her sack and tucked the rest into her storage pouch.
Pickpockets were also rampant in the market, and she had lost count of how many hands she had grabbed.
Either way, if they dared to steal from her, she would dare to pop their wrists out of joint and see who got the worst of it.
Her technique was top-notch, executed completely without anyone noticing.
In under three hours, she finished procuring her goods. Walking out of the civil air defense underground market, she found smaller wholesale spots nearby and picked up some daily necessities, leaving herself with fifty yuan in the end.
Time to buy a ticket for the return journey.
A strange phenomenon of taking trains back then was that buying tickets in advance often yielded no empty seats or sleeper berths.
Yet, two or three hours before departure, availability would suddenly reappear.
Some ticket scalpers, seeing the departure time approaching with unsold tickets in hand, would refund them.
The train ticket was for a little past twelve noon, and Tong Xiaoxi boarded only after finishing her lunch.
Riding all the way back to Laibin City, the moment the train stopped at the platform, she saw Lei Yihong waiting below. Seeing her, he seemed to let out an immediate sigh of relief.
Taking her bag, he took a look. “You got so little?”
Tong Xiaoxi nodded. “I’ll try selling these first. If they sell well, I’ll get more next time.”
She had tucked at least half of the goods into her storage pouch.
Returning home, Wang Yumei and Lei Wanqiang were still awake, waiting for her return before going to sleep at ease.
Lei Yihong looked at her. “Get some rest early. We’ll go together tomorrow morning.”
“Alright. Thank you for coming to pick me up.”
Tong Xiaoxi felt that Lei Yihong was somewhat different from what she had imagined.
She had assumed he would be the pretentious, snobbish type to interact with.
She hadn’t expected him to be quite down-to-earth.
Lei Yihong looked at her and smiled. “No need to thank me.”
Tong Xiaoxi didn’t go to sleep right away. She fetched water in the kitchen, where there was hot water on the stove, and pulled out the shampoo she had stocked in her storage pouch to wash her hair and wipe down her body.
Taking a proper bath was too inconvenient, and the crowding today had made her sweat profusely.
While waiting for her hair to dry, she pulled out all the goods procured today to organize them. She didn’t know whether the Russians would like these items, but tomorrow would be the perfect test.
The barter trade zone opened at six in the morning. After the two ate breakfast, Lei Yihong drove the tractor to load the liquor first before driving toward the port.
The barter trade zone was essentially a road carved out between the borders of China and Russia to serve as a mutual trade fair market. One exit was located within Russian territory, permitting only Russians to enter and exit, while the other was located within Chinese territory, permitting only Chinese people to enter and exit. Right beside it was the two countries’ port highway, where vehicles periodically transported people from both nations to participate in the mutual trade.
The border checkpoint huts of both countries were set up inside the fair market to maintain order and manage crowd flow.
People held up goods shouting “qianqian” at each other. Whoever took a fancy to someone’s goods would walk over to “qianqian”—knowing just that single word was enough to conduct business.
If someone wanted to bargain, they simply gestured with their fingers.
By the time the two arrived, quite a crowd had already gathered.
Tong Xiaoxi felt that everyone was overly enthusiastic, as they were all greeting her with shouts of, “Qianqian!”