Mao Cuizhi’s words…
Although the job is temporarily being held by her, when the military personnel sent Yu Zhaozhao back, they had already notified the unit’s leaders.
As long as the original owner graduated from high school, the job had to be returned immediately. Many people had witnessed this.
So now, if Yu Zhaozhao wants to sell this job, it might be a little troublesome, but it’s not impossible.
If the job were first sold to a relative of the leadership, then perhaps even that little trouble wouldn’t exist.
After all, during this peak of the “sent-down youth” movement, who didn’t need a job?
As for Yu Miaomiao and Yu Tianbao, they had bullied the original owner plenty before. It would be simpler to just send them down to the countryside together; at least the siblings could look out for each other.
Having figured out what to do next, Yu Zhaozhao felt much better and could finally start planning the supplies she would need.
But preparing supplies required money, and in this household, the original owner’s pockets were as empty as her face was clean—where would the money come from?
Ah, that’s right!
According to the book, when Yu Zhaozhao first returned, she had her passbook and Chen Ruolan’s heirlooms with her. To avoid being discovered, Aunt Mu even helped sew the items into her underwear, pressed close to her stomach.
Although a bit awkward, it was undeniably a safe spot.
When she first arrived, Mao Cuizhi pretended to be a kind aunt for a few days and didn’t search Yu Zhaozhao’s body immediately. This gave her time to hide the passbook and jade pendant.
Coincidentally, the hiding spot she chose was this very storeroom.
At that time, the original owner had her own room, but she was already wary and feared that Mao Cuizhi would search it, so she hid her belongings in this inconspicuous storeroom.
Now, it was convenient for Yu Zhaozhao to act.
She walked to the door and listened—no sound outside. Then she quickly moved to the corner, digging into the broken backpack filled with miscellaneous items, most of which were old things the family no longer wanted.
Small shoes, warped biscuit tins, all sorts of messy items.
Soon, Yu Zhaozhao spotted a pair of cotton shoes at the very bottom.
These were shoes Yu Miaomiao had worn as a child, deliberately dirtied by Yu Zhaozhao so that no one would dare touch them because they were so filthy.
As it turned out, she had been right.
Yu Wangshan and Mao Cuizhi had thoroughly searched the house to check if the original owner had secretly stashed money, including this storeroom.
They even dumped out the backpack, but they had not touched these worn cotton shoes.
Yu Zhaozhao crouched and reached into the shoes, quickly feeling a handkerchief.
She pulled it out, and its firmness told her something was wrapped inside.
Unfolding the handkerchief, she saw a letter, a passbook, and a jade pendant.
Yu Zhaozhao first opened the passbook to check her current fortune, and she was shocked.
Whoa!
16,800 yuan.
In an era when households with ten thousand yuan were rare, this was a huge sum!
It made sense, though.
The couple had been married 14 years. In the beginning, they were ordinary soldiers. Yu Wangchuan’s monthly allowance was 26 yuan, Chen Ruolan’s was 23.
They lived and ate in the army, wore uniforms, and had almost no expenses.
The next year, Chen Ruolan gave birth to Yu Zhaozhao. Because of missions, Yu Zhaozhao started drinking formula at three months, which became their largest expense.
By then, Yu Wangchuan had been promoted, and his salary rose to 46 yuan, so the couple could save around 20 yuan per month.
Later, as they climbed ranks, their salaries increased from 55 to 78, then 98, and finally 110. They could save even more.
This didn’t even include savings before marriage and mission bonuses.
Mission bonuses depended on difficulty and danger; risky missions could earn a couple of hundred yuan each.
The couple spent very little, had no elderly parents to support, and although they spoiled their only daughter, they had limits.
So over more than a decade, saving over ten thousand yuan was normal.
After closing the passbook, Yu Zhaozhao opened the envelope. It contained only an address and a key.
If she guessed correctly, this address belonged to the Xiheyuan left by Chen Ruolan’s father, Chen Weidong.
Chen Weidong’s ancestors were merchants who accumulated considerable wealth. Later, he fell ill and consolidated all his assets into the Xiheyuan, leaving them to his daughter.
He died relatively early, which spared Chen Ruolan from being labeled as a capitalist heiress; otherwise, her wealth would have caused her a lot of trouble.
As a soldier, performing missions was her duty. Even if danger loomed, Chen Ruolan always prepared for the possibility of not returning.
Before leaving each time, she would hand the envelope to her superiors with instructions that, if she didn’t return, it should be given to her daughter.
The book mentioned that the Xiheyuan had a basement containing a large amount of gold, silver, antiques, and paintings.
Unfortunately, the original owner, being a pushover, had used all of these assets to help Zhao Nianze, receiving nothing herself.
Zhao Nianze, with that capital, later went into business during the reform and opening-up and eventually became the richest man in the country.
Yu Zhaozhao felt speechless but also very lucky.
Luckily, she had arrived early; these assets still belonged to her.
The Xiheyuan in Beijing—later generations would know it as a house money couldn’t even buy. With this, she could live comfortably for the rest of her life.
For now, though, she had no letter of introduction, so she couldn’t go to Beijing yet.
But there was no rush. In the book, the original owner only received this fortune after getting into a university in Beijing, meaning at least until she entered university, these assets were safe.
Yu Zhaozhao then looked at the last item: a jade pendant with a cloud pattern.
Having read countless transmigration novels, she immediately suspected this pendant might be special.
Following typical novel tropes, she bit her finger and let her blood drip onto the jade.
Sure enough, a green light flashed, the blood disappeared, and Yu Zhaozhao felt herself being pulled into another space.
This…
Wasn’t this the grand villa she had just been lamenting about?
Yu Zhaozhao stood in the living room, eyes shining with excitement.
The villa had been fully decorated when bought; she only added some appliances and furniture.
The day before transmigrating, she had just stocked up on daily necessities and food. She hadn’t had the chance to enjoy it yet, and now she was in the 1970s. She had thought she’d lost out, but unexpectedly, it had followed her in spatial form.
This was simply amazing!