Chapter 15: The Grand Acquisition of Supplies

“Sir, I'd like to buy some cornmeal and millet. What are the prices?” Xiao Weiguo addressed the stall owner.

“Cornmeal is seven fen per jin, millet is ten fen per jin. How much do you want, young man?” the old man replied.

“I’ll take twenty jin of cornmeal and ten jin of millet.” Xiao Weiguo said, handing over the payment.

At present, the price of grain was still reasonable, but in another year, these prices would be multiplied a hundredfold on the black market, and it would be nearly impossible to buy any decent amount.

Carrying thirty jin of grain and a bag of eggs, Xiao Weiguo walked out of the woods. Daylight had already flooded the sky, and most of the marketgoers had left. He hurried away from the place. If he were caught by the Speculation and Profiteering Bureau, it would be no laughing matter.

His stomach began to grow hungry again. Though he’d had two bowls of porridge earlier, they weren’t filling. Now that he had grain coupons, he could buy something else to taste.

As he walked, Xiao Weiguo took stock of his assets: after buying various coupons, cornmeal, millet, and eggs, he’d spent nine yuan and twenty fen. He’d also paid a ten-fen fee for entering the woods, totaling nine yuan and thirty fen. Now he had barely more than four yuan left.

He sighed—money really vanished so quickly.

Returning to the breakfast stall, he said to the owner, “Boss, is there anything left unsold? I borrowed some grain coupons and came to buy a bite.”

“Only twelve oil cakes left. Want them? Three fen each plus one liang of grain coupon,” the owner replied.

“I’ll take them all. I’ll bring them home for my family to try your cooking.” Xiao Weiguo handed over thirty-six fen and one jin two liang of grain coupons.

“All right, I’ll wrap them in oil paper for you, so they stay warm until you get home,” the owner said, quickly wrapping up the oil cakes and handing them over.

“Leave one out—I want to taste it now,” Xiao Weiguo added.

He took a bite of the oil cake, and an overwhelming sense of satisfaction washed over him. His body craved the richness of oil, and it seemed as if every cell was sighing in relief.

Delicious—truly delicious.

In his previous life, he could have eaten these until he was sick, but back then, he often found them too dry to swallow and preferred lighter fare. Now, at every moment, all he wanted was meat; nothing else mattered. Whenever he saw meat, it was as if everyone’s eyes glowed green.

Thinking of meat, Xiao Weiguo turned toward the Supply and Marketing Cooperative. With all the necessary coupons now in hand, he couldn’t resist a little indulgence.

He planned to buy everything he would need for the short term—once work began tomorrow, it would be hard to ask for leave. After purchasing, he’d store everything in his space, where he could cook meals.

Whenever he craved a feast, he could slip into the space, eat his fill, and then come back out for a bowl of corn porridge to cleanse the oil.

Somehow, the image of braised pork floated in his mind, and his footsteps unconsciously quickened.

Upon entering the Supply and Marketing Cooperative, Xiao Weiguo searched for the meat counter, but after traversing the entire place, he found none.

“Sister, where can I buy meat? I can’t seem to find it,” Xiao Weiguo asked a passing woman.

“What are you doing at the Cooperative for meat? They don’t sell meat here. You have to go to the vegetable market—it’s not far, just two hundred meters south,” she replied, curiosity in her eyes.

Xiao Weiguo hadn’t realized the Cooperative didn’t sell meat. After thanking her, he decided to shop here first before heading to the market.

He used his one jin of sugar coupons to buy brown sugar at nine fen per jin—a steep price, but in this era, brown sugar was a treasure. For women in confinement, two essentials were eggs and brown sugar.

If guests visited, offering a cup of brown sugar water was the highest courtesy.

He also bought half a jin of orange-flavored soft candies, which required no coupons; he still had sorghum candies in his space, so he didn’t buy more.

He exchanged his one jin of oil coupons for oil at six yuan six fen per jin, plus the corresponding coupon.

Now he could cook in his space, though he’d have to use oil sparingly—a single jin was not much, and next time, he’d have to exchange for more.

Seeing porcelain bowls for sale, he remembered that the bowls in his space weren’t enough. With so many sisters, they couldn’t be expected to take turns eating. He bought a stack for three fen.

Leaving the Cooperative, he headed straight to the market.

At the meat stall, a burly man wearing a leather apron wielded a heavy cleaver, chopping away at the meat.

“Master, I’d like two jin of pork belly,” Xiao Weiguo said.

The man glanced up, then lowered his head, saying, “Six yuan five fen per jin, one yuan three fen for two jin, plus two jin of meat coupons.”

After Xiao Weiguo handed over the money and coupons, the man’s knife flashed, and he handed over a piece of meat with little fat and mostly lean.

Xiao Weiguo felt a pang in his liver. In the future, this would be great—nobody would want fat meat, and lean cuts would be prized. But now, fat meat was the favorite, as everyone desperately needed oil.

All he wanted was a chunk of oily meat to satisfy his organs.

“Master, this isn’t pork belly—there’s barely any fat,” Xiao Weiguo protested.

“Take it and go, hurry up,” the man replied, shooing him away.

Given the man’s build, Xiao Weiguo knew better than to argue. This wasn’t the future, where service was paramount.

In restaurants nowadays, the banners read: ‘No beating customers without cause.’

Take note—‘without cause.’ So, with sufficient reason, beating customers was allowed. Wouldn’t you be afraid?

“Hey, young man, come back,” the butcher called out after Xiao Weiguo had walked two meters away.

Bewildered, Xiao Weiguo returned.

The butcher grabbed some ribs from the side, cut off a strip, and handed it to him, saying, “Don’t say Old Xiong bullies people. These ribs are a gift. Everyone wants fat meat, but there’s only so much to go around.”

Xiao Weiguo accepted the ribs happily. “Uncle, you’re giving me these ribs? That’s quite a lot—almost half a jin!”

“Do you want to buy more ribs? If you don’t need coupons, I’ll sell you some,” Old Xiong offered.

“What’s the use of ribs? There’s barely any meat—three fen per jin, no coupons needed,” Old Xiong replied.

“That’s fine, give me three jin,” Xiao Weiguo said excitedly.

Carrying two jin of pork and over three jin of ribs, Xiao Weiguo left the shop, bought some crisp green beans from a stall nearby—they’d be delicious stewed with meat—and then set off for Xiao Family Village.

Today had truly been a fruitful outing.

He had two jin of pork, over three jin of ribs, and a handful of crisp green beans.

One jin of oil.

One jin of brown sugar, half a jin of orange soft candies.

Eleven oil cakes.

Twenty-two eggs.

Twenty jin of cornmeal, ten jin of millet.

A stack of bowls.

He still had eighteen jin and eight liang of grain coupons.

The only downside was that he’d spent almost all his money.

With renewed strength, Xiao Weiguo strode along the road, determined to reach home before noon.