Chapter 38: New Ways to Make Money
When the rest of the department found out, the way they looked at her completely changed. Sheng Wanyan had only been at the factory for half a month, yet she had already stolen the spotlight twice.
While most of the other clerks only had one or perhaps two sentences selected, she had swept the board with four.
“Everyone should learn from Comrade Sheng Wanyan,” Director Li praised, beaming with pride. “This is exactly what young people should be doing. Think more, create more, and innovate more!”
Director Li was deeply satisfied. In the past, the promotional slogans had always been the same stale, repetitive phrases over and over again, completely devoid of novelty. But look at Comrade Sheng Wanyan’s submissions this time—how cultured they were, and how perfectly they managed to deceive people…
Ahem.
Inspire passion, rather.
Sheng Wanyan secretly wished she could find a hole to crawl into. Director Li truly possessed a unique talent for making the entire room hate her.
“Alright, everyone, separate and go put up the posters around the compound.”
The factory had five main propaganda boards scattered across its grounds: at the entrance of the canteen, the entrance of the technical department, the entrance of the factory director’s office building, the main factory gates, and the entrance to the production workshops.
Sheng Wanyan took the posters designated for the factory director’s office building. The two-story structure was filled with administrative offices and leadership meeting rooms. She worked quickly and neatly, ensuring the sheets were perfectly straight and securely pinned before making her exit.
Later that afternoon, a senior executive from the cotton mill passed by the bulletin board on his way out. He paused, looking over the newly updated slogans for a long moment, before nodding in profound satisfaction.
At the end of the shift, Sheng Wanyan spotted Wu Jiaxiu near the gates and offered her a ride on her bicycle.
When they reached a quiet fork in the road, Wu Jiaxiu hopped off to walk the remaining distance to her apartment. Although the two women lived in completely opposite directions, detouring to this intersection only took an extra ten minutes. By giving her a ride, Sheng Wanyan had cut Wu Jiaxiu’s commute down to less than three minutes, saving her precious time to get home and cook dinner.
“Wanyan, how about we handle our private business at this intersection from now on?” Wu Jiaxiu suggested, leaning in close.
Sheng Wanyan nodded. This spot was significantly safer than anywhere near the factory gates, and they wouldn’t have to worry about Niu Fangli constantly watching their every move.
“Sounds good.”
“By the way,” Wu Jiaxiu whispered, darting her eyes around, “do you have any way to get your hands on some fresh meat?”
Wu Jiaxiu loved her food, and Sheng Wanyan always felt comfortable doing business with her because she strictly understood the rules of discretion.
“I do,” Wanyan replied quietly. “I have an old classmate whose family works at a city slaughterhouse. But the prices will have to match the black market rates.”
Wu Jiaxiu’s eyes lit up with excitement. She stepped closer and lowered her voice even further. “Can you help me get two pounds of pork? My husband’s birthday is coming up, and I want to make him something rich to build up his strength.”
Sheng Wanyan nodded understandingly. Wu Jiaxiu and her husband were incredibly affectionate, and their newlywed days were clearly filled with sweetness.
“I’ll go ask around for you tomorrow.”
“Wanyan, thank you so much!” Wu Jiaxiu beamed. “Don’t worry, only the two of us know about this. I will never breathe a single word to anyone else.”
She was obviously referring to Niu Fangli. Sheng Wanyan offered a reassuring smile and nodded. Doing business with smart, intuitive people was always effortless.
Two mornings later, Sheng Wanyan met Wu Jiaxiu at the designated intersection for the exchange. Since she was selling high-demand pork without requiring the strict state meat coupons, she set the price at 1.50 yuan per catty.
“Sister Jiaxiu, that’s two pounds for exactly three yuan. No coupons needed.”
The moment Wu Jiaxiu heard the price, she knew Wanyan was doing her a massive favor. The standard black market rate for pork was usually 1.60 yuan per catty, but she didn’t put on a show of polite refusal. Instead, she mentally resolved to treat Wanyan to a lavish breakfast at the State-Owned Restaurant to make up the difference.
“Here is the three yuan,” Wu Jiaxiu smiled, passing over the cash. She quickly handed the wrapped meat to her husband to take straight home, then linked her arm through Wanyan’s. “Come on! Let’s go grab some breakfast.”
Because Sheng Wanyan had declined her invitation to the restaurant during their previous fabric transaction, she had effectively saved Wu Jiaxiu two meat coupons and twenty cents. In this era, twenty cents was enough to purchase an entire bag of salt, let alone the immense value of the meat coupons themselves. Since she and her husband were only allocated two meat coupons a month by the state, being able to save them was a massive blessing.
Sheng Wanyan didn’t refuse her this time. If she constantly rejected her hospitality, she risked making a great, reliable trading partner feel uncomfortable and distant.
The two women strolled into the State-Owned Restaurant. Sheng Wanyan found herself completely full after eating just a single steamed meat bun; the buns of this era were massive and packed tight with savory filling. Best of all, they only cost ten cents each, which was incredibly cheap.
The food in this era bore none of the synthetic additives or safety issues of the future; every dish was prepared with completely real, unadulterated ingredients.
Because she had left the apartment early today, Sheng Wanyan had secretly drank a warm thermos of malted milk before heading to the factory. She didn’t want to drink it inside the office, out of fear that the rich, sweet aroma would linger in the air and make her stand out too much to her colleagues.
Before heading to her desk, she swung by the factory cafeteria to thoroughly rinse out her thermos. To avoid drawing any suspicion, Wu Jiaxiu had walked ahead and entered the building separately.
Sheng Wanyan filled her cup with hot water and walked into the Propaganda Department. Having successfully updated the main notice boards the day before, she essentially had no major assignments left for the rest of the month.
While she wanted to continue making money, she knew she couldn’t rely solely on selling commodities. Dealing in black-market goods carried too much risk over time; she needed to diversify her income through safer, intellectual channels.
Currently, she had exactly 157.60 yuan to her name. While that constituted a small fortune in the mid-1970s, a mere 157 yuan would be practically worthless in a few years once the currency inflated and economic reforms took hold.
As she pondered her options, her gaze fell upon Chen Kangming, who was sitting across the room reading a fresh copy of the newspaper. A spark of inspiration struck her.
Translation! She could make money by translating texts.
Translators commanded exceptionally high fees in this era. Given the current political isolation, very few ordinary citizens could speak a foreign language, and even those who did rarely possessed an advanced vocabulary.
But in her past life, she had been raised in an elite, aristocratic academy, studying foreign languages from early childhood through adulthood. She was completely fluent in eight different languages—she was overqualified to be a professional translator!
Furthermore, she possessed the unique advantage of her temporal dimension. She could easily slip into her space before bed, spend two hours translating texts in an altered time flow, and accumulate a massive income every single month without affecting her day job.
The more she thought about it, the more viable the plan became. The moment her shift ended, she resolved to buy a national newspaper to find the contact details for the main editorial offices.
Alternatively, she could check the city’s state-owned bookstore. According to the original owner’s memories, there was a small shop central to the city. Even during these turbulent times, as long as a bookstore strictly avoided carrying prohibited literature, it was allowed to operate safely. Furthermore, because all open shops in this era were state-managed, even the radical patrols wearing red armbands didn’t dare walk in and cause trouble.
Ultimately, Sheng Wanyan was far more inclined to work with a prominent newspaper based in the capital. Being located directly under the feet of the central government meant local busybodies and regional factions wouldn’t be able to interfere with her work.
Having made up her mind, she purchased a newspaper immediately after work and hurried to the local post office to place a long-distance call to the editorial department.
When the voice on the other end learned she was applying as a freelance translator, the editor asked her a few screening questions. Impressed by her clear composure, he instructed her to translate the front page of the latest regional newspaper into English and mail it to the capital for review. If her sample passed their rigorous assessment, they would officially begin assigning her paid translation contracts.
Understanding the procedure, Sheng Wanyan thanked him and hung up the receiver.
“That’ll be forty cents,” the post office clerk announced.
Sheng Wanyan paid the fee. Turning to leave, her eyes caught the display of postage stamps behind the counter, and she paused.
“Comrade, please give me two complete sets of stamps and twenty envelopes.”
She carefully selected two specific commemorative editions. With her knowledge of the future art market, she knew exactly how rare these particular stamps would become and believed they were premier choices for a long-term collection.
The clerk didn’t give the purchase a second thought. In this era, it was common for citizens to buy bulk stationery and keep it at home, saving them from making a special trip to the post office every time they needed to mail a letter. Furthermore, the young woman before him was dressed impeccably without a single patch on her clothes, and she had just casually paid for an expensive long-distance phone call. She clearly came from a comfortable background, so he handed over the items readily.
“The stamps are eight cents each, so thirty stamps come to two yuan and forty cents. The envelopes are two cents each, making forty cents for twenty.” The clerk tallied the figures. “Your total is two yuan and eighty cents.”
Sheng Wanyan counted out the cash, handed it over, and then walked out to the Supply and Marketing Cooperative to buy a fresh stack of lined paper and a high-quality fountain pen.
