Chapter 136: Unnecessary Worry (Additional Update for 450 Monthly Tickets)

P.S.: Due to review delays, Chapter 135 has not been published yet. However, I cannot break my promise, so I will post Chapter 136 first. I hope everyone will be understanding!

As Hong Tao spent more time at school, the teachers' attitudes toward him slowly began to change. From the initial hostility, it gradually eroded into neglect, then morphed into indifference, and now, even teachers other than those for P.E., art, and music had begun to take him seriously. In particular, subject teachers who had not had direct friction with him would sometimes praise Hong Tao or use his exam papers and essays as positive examples for the rest of the class to learn from.

Hong Tao understood the root cause of this shift. It was simply that his grandfather’s family had appeared in the newspaper, and now, not only did the residents in the neighborhood know his grandfather’s family was wealthy, but even the school teachers had heard whispers of it. During the May Day holiday, his youngest uncle had carried a large stack of beautifully printed landscape calendars and gone from office to office. Whenever he met a teacher—regardless of whether they taught him or not—he would hand them two rolls: one for the teacher and one to be passed on to Hong Tao.

What left Hong Tao even more dumbfounded was that his eldest aunt’s husband had colluded with the local neighborhood committee to issue free hair-perming vouchers to all the teachers in the school, claiming it was a gesture of appreciation for the "gardeners of the motherland." As a result, whenever any teacher went to the hair salon for a perm or a haircut, they would see a photo of Hong Tao and his grandparents with the district leaders hanging right in the center of the room.

Whether it was a show of strength or a disguised form of flattery, the aunt’s husband’s tactic achieved good results. Aside from a small minority of teachers who still looked at Hong Tao with a long face, the rest could at least muster a smile for him. This was a significant improvement.

In addition to Hong Tao’s improved status at school, his youngest uncle had also made progress. Although he still didn't put much effort into his studies, he no longer spent his days hanging out with a group of classmates getting into trouble. However, his whereabouts between school and dinner time remained a mystery. According to him, he was at a classmate's house doing homework.

That story might have fooled his grandparents, but Hong Tao didn't believe a word of it. It was complete nonsense. Although Hong Tao hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he knew exactly what was going on. In short, it was all about that "Stinky Sister."

"Little Uncle? ... What are you doing? Don't hide it! Let me see!" Hong Tao had no objections to the romance between his uncle and the "Stinky Sister." Regardless of what she saw in him, for the past year or so, she had managed to keep him in check. Not getting into trouble was a huge improvement. However, he had to remind his uncle not to let things move too fast; if he accidentally ended up with a little cousin, it would be impossible to clean up the mess.

One day after school, when Hong Tao didn't see his uncle at the dinner table at his grandmother’s house, he quietly pushed open the door to his uncle’s room to see what he was up to. To his surprise, just as he poked his head in, he saw his uncle stuffing something under his quilt. As Hong Tao opened the door, he heard a woman’s voice: "Mr. Zhou from Shanghai, please record... 8854, 9762, 1099...!!!"

Hong Tao was all too familiar with that sound. It was the type of coded radio broadcast often heard when listening to overseas radio stations. Its general purpose was for foreign hostile forces to send notifications to agents lurking within the country. Most of these were fake, intended just to stir up trouble; Hong Tao had never bothered to figure out if any were real.

"Shh! ... Don't shout! I was just trying to listen to some music and found this station by accident..." His uncle pulled the radio Hong Tao had built for him out from under the quilt.

"You'd better have found it by accident. Our family isn't going to produce a Yu Zecheng; at best, you're just an extra or cannon fodder. I'm telling you, listen after 11 p.m., there are better programs... hehehe..." Hong Tao had listened to these things in his previous life—the Voice of America, broadcasts from Taiwan—and even some late-night stations with adult content. By today's standards, they would be considered "health programs," but back then, they were definitely not for children.

"You've listened to them? Which station?" His uncle was excited and insisted that Hong Tao tell him the approximate waveband and frequency.

"I forgot long ago. Why aren't you out with the 'Stinky Sister' today?" Hong Tao couldn't possibly remember such trivial details from decades ago.

"Her mother won't let her go out all the time. And stop calling her 'Stinky Sister,' it sounds awful!" his uncle protested again.

"Alright, alright, Su... Su Hongbing, right? Have you held hands with her yet?" Hong Tao had almost forgotten the "Stinky Sister's" name and only recalled it after a moment of thought.

"Go away! Get out of here, why are you asking that!" His uncle’s thick-skinned face actually turned red.

"I’m just trying to give you some advice. I helped you before, didn't I? There’s nothing to be embarrassed about; it’s not like it’s something shameful. Tell me, have you?" Hong Tao suppressed a laugh, searching his memory—this seemed to be the first time he had ever seen his uncle blush.

"Just once!..." His uncle mumbled for a long time before holding up one finger.

"Oh... big progress! Keep it up, I'm done!" Seeing his uncle's reaction, Hong Tao knew his initial worries were unfounded. They had only held hands once in over a year; he doubted they’d produce a cousin before he graduated from junior high.

"Hey, you said you were going to give me some advice!" His uncle reached out and grabbed him as he was about to leave.

"I wanted to give you advice on how to hold hands, but since you've already done it, what advice do I need to give? Keep it up! You're better than I am!" Hong Tao took the opportunity to encourage him. Men in love often felt insecure, lacking self-confidence.

"Hehehe... We're going to ride bikes to Xiangshan to see the red leaves on Sunday. Can I borrow your camera? I swear to the Party I won't break it!" His uncle felt quite proud of himself.

"Sure, I have one roll of color film left, I'll give it to you too... When you get there, if she gets tired while climbing the mountain, carry her. Be proactive. Don't keep asking if she's willing; as long as she doesn't object, just carry her... Never mind, figure it out yourself!" Hong Tao couldn't help but let a bit of his experience slip out, and only realized his mistake halfway through, quickly cutting himself off.

The latter half of 1981 was a good year for Hong Tao. Not only was he no longer so isolated at school, but good news followed one after another. At the end of October, the People's Daily and the Guangming Daily published a headline on their front pages: "The State Council Approves and Transmits the 'Opinions on Several Issues Concerning the Implementation of the Economic Responsibility System in Industrial Production'."

Most people at the time might not have known what this meant, but Hong Tao knew it signaled that economic reform was accelerating. Urban state-owned and collective enterprises could now be contracted out by individuals. As long as one met the requirements—fixing the base, ensuring quotas were met, keeping the surplus, and covering losses—in principle, anyone could lease the management rights of a factory or enterprise. This was the separation of ownership from management.

Under this new system, China would give birth to its first generation of true entrepreneurs—star entrepreneurs. Even in the 21st century, many large domestic companies, like Lenovo and Jianlibao, still bore the marks of that era.

However, for Hong Tao, this new policy didn't have much practical significance. He had never intended to contract an enterprise himself. First, he didn't believe he had the ability or patience for real industry. He could manage himself when starting a business, but once an enterprise grew, it had to deal with all sorts of complex issues, and at that point, decisions could no longer be made by one person alone. Moreover, he knew nothing about enterprise management, and his personality wasn't suited for it; he might as well avoid the exhaustion and thankless work.

Besides, he didn't lack ways to make money. Instead of working himself to the bone in industry for the sake of an "entrepreneur" title, he preferred to keep a low profile and get rich quietly. He didn't dare say much, but Hong Tao could easily think of several effortless ways to make a fortune. For example, he could pull strings at the Housing Management Bureau, find a few people to lease storefronts on the street in their names, pay to change them into commercial properties, and then sublease them.

This didn't require much effort or later investment; he could just collect rent monthly. And the rent would only go up, snowballing over time. The money spent on pulling strings and changing the property use could be recouped in a year or two. After that, they wouldn't just be storefronts; they would be golden geese laying golden eggs every month. Once the area was slated for demolition, according to national policy, he would receive a large compensation package plus a pile of apartments, which would then hatch into more golden geese to keep laying golden eggs.

Of course, this quiet way of making money was mundane, lacking both a grand process and a spotlight-grabbing result. But it fit Hong Tao’s principles perfectly: to live a relaxed life without breaking the law or hurting others.

In addition to this new policy, there was good news from the sports world at the end of the year. In the Third Women's Volleyball World Cup, the Chinese women’s volleyball team defeated Japan, known as the "Oriental Witches," in Osaka, winning the first world championship for China in the three major ball sports. Among the players, a girl from Beijing named Lang Ping became an iconic figure of the era. She carried nearly half of the team's spikes with a success rate of nearly 50 percent.

The nickname "Iron Hammer" replaced Lang Ping's name for many years to come, becoming a household name across the country. Because of this, students at Peking University shouted the slogan: "Unite to revitalize China." (To be continued...)