Chapter Forty-Two: The First Bucket of Gold (Extra Chapter)

Xiao Tao, I know exactly what you and your uncle are up to with all these schemes. Why do you need so much money? If you’re short, just ask your grandpa or your dad—hasn’t he gotten a raise? You’re his only child, nothing will ever be lacking for you.” The old man was sharp as ever. He understood that Hongtao had sold the bicycle he’d saved up for to his eldest son-in-law, making a tidy sum in the process, and that the money ultimately ended up in Hongtao’s own hands.

“Grandpa, I’m only telling you this because you asked. If anyone else asks, even my dad, I’m not saying a word. I just feel that the times are about to change.” Hongtao paused, thinking he should persuade his grandfather. There was no harm in it—his grandfather truly doted on him, and as long as he didn’t break the law, the old man would always have his back.

“The times are about to change? How?” Grandpa was not at all surprised to be discussing national affairs with his grandson.

“Look! The Gang of Four has been toppled. Everything they supported before is bound to be overturned. Those so-called remnants of capitalism might no longer need to be cut off; in fact, they might even start to flourish again. Over the past few months, my uncle has been bringing eggs, meat, peanuts, and such here—where did he get them? People in his area are already selling these things themselves. There aren’t many coming to our city yet, but it won’t be long before everyone gets bolder, and we’ll see it here too. Do you realize what that means?” Hongtao walked to the door and bolted it.

“What does it mean? That we’ll have people selling things from door to door here just like in your uncle’s neighborhood?” The old man stretched his imagination as far as it could go, but that was as much as the times allowed—this was not a question of age or experience.

“It means the country’s policies are about to shift! Before, private business was forbidden, but soon it might be allowed.” Hongtao pointed at the ceiling.

“And what’s that got to do with you? Are you thinking of going into business? Absolutely not! Peddling goods from street to street isn’t work for you. That’s what they used to call the hustler’s trade—always out in the elements, you wouldn’t stand it. Besides, would your father even agree? You’re only a child!” For the first time, Grandpa directly shot down Hongtao’s idea.

“Oh, not me! Even if I wanted to, I’d have to be eighteen, or else I’d be a child laborer! I’m talking about my aunts. Your job will surely go to my youngest uncle, so my aunts will have to wait for the neighborhood committee to assign them work. But what good job could they possibly get? We don’t know anyone in those circles, so my aunt would probably end up in some terrible job—hard work, little pay. That’s why I’m teaching her tailoring now. I want her to open a tailor shop someday—no wind, no sun, and I’m sure she’ll make in a month what you earn in a year. Do you believe it?” Hongtao felt like a missionary, zealously sowing thoughts not yet belonging to this era into the minds of his father and grandfather, trying desperately to influence them to follow his lead.

“Will the government approve?” Grandpa was skeptical.

“There isn’t that policy yet, but I feel it’s coming. Just a few days ago, the newspaper said there are already private restaurants in Shanghai and Guangzhou. Beijing, being the capital, will be a little slower, but I reckon in a year or two, it might happen. If that day really comes, I want to save up some money for my aunt—she’ll need it to rent a shop, buy fabric, get a sewing machine. There’s no harm in having extra money, right? I won’t squander it, don’t worry. I’ll save it for when I really need it, and don’t tell my dad, okay?” Hongtao used his aunt as a shield, but he wasn’t making it all up; he’d been thinking about helping her open a shop for quite some time.

“No one can say for sure about the country’s affairs. Well, never mind. I’ll trust you one more time, since you’re thinking of your aunt. At least my love for you isn’t wasted… It’s not that I don’t care about your aunts, but I only have one spot for passing down my job, and I have to save it for your uncle. If he loses it, how will he ever marry and start a family?” Grandpa lifted Hongtao onto his lap, stroking his head and sharing his own troubles.

“Don’t worry. With me around, our family will get better and better. When I grow up, I’ll take you on an airplane to see the world.” In Hongtao’s later life, his grandfather died early, in 1995, from emphysema. At the time, Hongtao had just graduated college and couldn’t even take care of himself, let alone show any filial piety to the old man.

“Heh! Grandpa will wait for that day! At my workplace, we often see big planes fly overhead, rumbling like thunder.” Grandpa’s work unit wasn’t far from the Beijing airport, so he’d actually seen planes in the sky. In those days, few Beijing residents had seen a plane, let alone flown in one.

Hongtao’s father and uncle returned around three o’clock, both with their bicycles laden with goods—hanging from the handlebars, balanced on the crossbars, piled on the rear racks, strapped on—looking like two hedgehogs. They’d had good luck: the shop had just gotten in four sets of bicycle frames that morning, and they bought them all, along with all the necessary parts.

When the salesperson asked why they were buying so many, the uncle produced a letter of introduction from his workplace, saying that the housing management union was setting up a small repair shop to service employees’ bikes. The lie was so seamless, and the paperwork so official, that not only did the salesperson have no suspicion, but it also set up a perfect excuse for buying large quantities of parts in the future.

Hongtao stacked all the parts in his grandfather’s room and began assembling them. His father and uncle were promptly shooed away by Grandpa, who insisted on helping his grandson himself. According to his generation’s tradition, apprentices were not allowed to watch their masters at delicate work; if an apprentice learned everything too quickly, the master would soon be destitute.

New parts were much easier to work with than used ones. The parts came from the Shanghai and Tianjin bicycle factories—mostly Flying Pigeon, with some Forever brand mixed in. They were all standard parts, interchangeable except for the frame. Hongtao worked until after seven in the evening, finally assembling two bicycles: one a 28-inch men’s Flying Pigeon, the other a hybrid 26-inch women’s bike with Flying Pigeon and Forever parts. Two more 28-inch men’s Flying Pigeon frames and a handful of other parts were bought by his uncle mainly to throw off the shopkeeper—after all, you can’t go in and buy just enough for two bikes; that would be too obvious.

He wouldn’t make a penny on his mother’s bike—the labor was a gift—but his uncle’s Flying Pigeon was a different story. The uncle spent just over 140 yuan on the parts, and after accounting for the extras, the bike only cost him a little over 80 yuan, so he still owed Hongtao more than 50 yuan. That 50 yuan was Hongtao’s profit; as for how much his uncle would sell the bike for, that wasn’t his concern. His uncle had a real knack for business and was sure to make a profit.

Early the next morning, his uncle came by and waited half the day at Grandma’s before Hongtao finally ambled over, took the keys from around his neck, and unlocked Grandpa’s door. He now had three keys: one for his own home, one for Grandma’s main house, and one for Grandpa’s little room.

“No issues—this is a brand-new bike! Xiao Tao, your skills are unmatched! Here, this is 53 yuan and 28 cents, the price of the bike. We’ll settle the rest when you’ve finished the next lot. Xiao Tao, your uncle wishes he could steal you away and make you his own son—you just made in a few hours what a fourth-level worker earns in a month, you know that?” When his uncle saw the still-oily new bike, his excitement was palpable. Though he’d known what to expect, seeing it in the flesh was something else entirely.

“Heh, but you did most of the work, Uncle. I couldn’t have done it alone. Now it’s up to you—however many parts you bring, that’s how many bikes I’ll build. But be careful—don’t buy too many parts at one shop. If you attract attention… We may not be breaking the law, but it could still cause trouble, right?” Hongtao fingered the stack of ten-yuan bills, savoring the feel he hadn’t known for decades, finally feeling secure. Still, he reminded his uncle not to get carried away.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already spoken to the director. Our unit really is setting up a bike repair stand for employees, with me in charge. I’ve got two more introduction letters—once I deliver the bikes, I’ll go to the shops at Xizhimen and Xisi and buy more parts with the letters. All right, I’m off! Time to ride a new bike!” Uncle patted Hongtao’s head, waved two official documents with big red seals, then pushed his new bike out the door.

“Wait, Uncle—the receipts! You need to keep the receipts for all the parts together, or you won’t be able to get the bike registered. Don’t forget—even one missing, and it won’t work!” Hongtao quickly grabbed the bike. This was crucial—if his uncle sold a bike without receipts and the police found out, there’d be trouble.

“I’ve got it all sorted. I went through everything last night and put it all in an envelope. Don’t worry!” Uncle patted his shirt pocket to show he’d thought of everything.

“Alright, take care, and don’t ride too fast!” Only then did Hongtao relax.

“Making money isn’t easy! Feels like being a thief!” Once his uncle left the yard with the bike, Hongtao went back inside, took out the five big bills from his own pocket, sniffed them again, then took five and slipped them under Grandpa’s mattress, keeping the rest of the change for himself. He’d already arranged with Grandpa to keep his money there for safekeeping—both to reassure Grandpa and because he really had nowhere else to put it.