Chapter 54: Father Sheng’s Wild Thoughts
The massive “villain” Wu Jiaxiu had no idea she had essentially become Sheng Wanyan’s largest client. She was still blissfully immersed in the joy of securing her winter provisions and couldn’t extricate herself.
When Sheng Wanyan returned home, her conversation with Wu Jiaxiu prompted her to think about buying new winter clothes for her own family. The household had a decent stockpile of regular fabric, and Mother Sheng had recently managed to buy two bolts of defective, discounted cloth from her factory, meaning there was enough material to sew a fresh set of clothes for everyone.
The real problem was the raw cotton needed for the inner stuffing. Mother Sheng was currently planning to rip open their old quilted jackets, pull out the flattened cotton, and beat it to fluff it up for reuse.
Wanyan didn’t know if the old, hardened cotton would actually retain any warmth after being repurposed. If it didn’t, they would have to find another solution.
“Mom, let me go to work and ask around tomorrow,” Sheng Wanyan offered. Since she was employed at a massive state cotton mill, she figured she could easily leverage some internal channels or insider information.
“Alright,” Mother Sheng agreed.
The next day, Sheng Wanyan quietly inquired around the office. She learned that while mill employees were permitted to purchase raw cotton internally, they still had to pay the strict price set by the Supply and Marketing Cooperative, and they still had to provide the exact amount of state-issued cotton coupons.
In this era, ration coupons were incredibly difficult to come by. And just like defective fabric, while it was true that occasional batches of “defective” cotton were produced and sold at a discount without coupons, those rare batches were instantly claimed and consumed by the factory leadership long before they reached the ordinary clerks.
So, relying on the mill for a bulk purchase was completely impractical.
Sheng Wanyan checked her wallet. The cotton coupons she currently possessed totaled a mere one and a half kilograms—barely enough to stuff a single child’s jacket.
For an adult, sewing a proper winter cotton-padded jacket required two full kilograms of raw cotton. However, because the state distributed coupons based on strict household populations, an average citizen was only allocated one kilogram per year.
Because she worked at a textile mill, Wanyan enjoyed the premium benefit of receiving an extra half-kilogram of cotton coupons every month. But since she had only been employed for a little over three months, her accumulated tickets fell disastrously short of what the family needed.
It seemed her only viable option was to discreetly withdraw supplies from her spatial dimension. Inside, she had access to both viable cotton seeds and processed, finished cotton.
She quickly checked her inventory. She hadn’t purchased a massive stockpile of finished cotton prior to her transmigration—only about 100,000 kilograms. While that sounded like a lot, based on the heavy usage required in this era, 100,000 kilograms wouldn’t last forever. Back then, she had assumed that since she had hoarded thousands of modern winter coats, she would never risk freezing to death.
But in the 1970s, raw cotton was king. She couldn’t very well rip the synthetic linings out of her futuristic down jackets and pass them off as normal.
She realized she would have to carve out a section of her dimensional land and plant the raw cotton seeds herself. Thank goodness she had obsessively purchased every type of agricultural seed available during her hoarding phase; otherwise, she would truly be at a loss right now.
That evening after work, Sheng Wanyan told Mother Sheng she had successfully secured an internal connection at the factory.
Mother Sheng’s eyes instantly lit up with excitement. “How much can you get?”
“If there’s a lot, grab as much as you can. Your brother is getting married soon, so we need to prepare new quilts and pillows for the bridal chamber. We also have to sew a brand-new set of winter clothes for your future sister-in-law. There’s absolutely no reason our family should be wearing warm new clothes during the New Year while she goes without.”
“How much do you need in total, Mom?” Sheng Wanyan asked. “I’ll see if I can buy enough coupons or stock from my colleagues.”
Mother Sheng paused, mentally calculating the family’s exact needs. “We have seven kilograms worth of coupons currently sitting at home. If you have to pay a little extra cash to cover the difference, that’s fine.”
“A heavy double-bed quilt requires eight kilograms. Two solid pillows require three kilograms. A new, thick cotton-padded jacket for each person will take four kilograms each.” She muttered under her breath, doing the math. “It all adds up to thirty-nine kilograms. Just handle it as best you can. If you can’t get that much, we’ll find another way.”
Mother Sheng didn’t want to pressure her daughter into buying the entire lot if it was too difficult or dangerous; she merely wanted to secure whatever was safely possible.
“Okay,” Wanyan agreed.
Mother Sheng went to her lockbox and handed over the family’s cotton coupons along with a thick stack of cash. The official state price at the cooperative was 1.25 yuan per kilogram of raw cotton. Mother Sheng knew that if Wanyan was buying private stock from her colleagues, she would inevitably have to pay the inflated black-market premium.
To ensure the deal went smoothly, Mother Sheng simply handed her a crisp 100 yuan. If there was any change left over, Wanyan could refund it; if the cost was higher, they would make up the shortfall later.
Initially, Sheng Wanyan hadn’t wanted to take the money. But upon reflecting on Sheng Wanze’s upcoming marriage, she reasoned that there was no logical precedent for a younger, unmarried sister to personally fund her older brother’s wedding preparations.
While they were close siblings, bringing a new wife into the household meant that strict financial boundaries needed to be respected. Especially when it came to major marital assets, she was perfectly willing to give a generous cash gift on the wedding day, but personally bankrolling the couple’s heavy quilts and bridal clothing was overstepping her role entirely.
As a future sister-in-law, the wisest path was to remain low-key and quietly fulfill her standard familial duties without causing a scene. There was absolutely no reason to play the extravagant benefactor; she would simply do what was socially expected of a sister-in-law in this era, nothing more, nothing less. She didn’t plan to cause trouble, and she sincerely hoped her future sister-in-law wouldn’t cause trouble for her, allowing the family to live in stable, peaceful harmony.
Most importantly, her family was intimately aware of her exact financial standing. In this household, her assets were completely transparent. With Mother Sheng’s sharp eyes monitoring everything, she knew the exact details of Wanyan’s income down to the last penny. If Wanyan suddenly refused the money and provided the goods for free, her mother would instantly grow suspicious.
Wanyan resolved that she would simply find other, untraceable ways to subsidize the family’s daily life and fulfill her filial duties.
“Oh, and if you happen to see anyone discreetly selling pork near the factory gates over the next two months, buy as much as you can,” Mother Sheng added, pulling out another fifty yuan and pressing it into Wanyan’s hand. “We need to start curing bacon for the winter, and your brother’s wedding banquet is going to require a massive amount of meat.”
When it came to her two children, Mother Sheng refused to let either of them suffer the slightest grievance.
“Understood,” Wanyan nodded.
Feeling she had covered all the necessary arrangements, Mother Sheng patted her daughter’s arm and told her to head to her room and rest early.
Naturally, Sheng Wanyan had no intention of charging her own mother the exorbitant black market rate. She simply fabricated an excuse, claiming that her colleagues were willing to part with their private stock at a price slightly higher than the cooperative’s baseline, but significantly lower than the underground market.
“Is that true?” Mother Sheng asked, surprised.
“It’s true. Everyone just wants to make a little extra cash before the New Year, but they’re too terrified to actually go to the black market.”
Her reasoning was perfectly sound. In this era, ordinary working-class citizens generally avoided the black market at all costs; the risk of being caught and losing their coveted state jobs was simply too terrifying. It was far safer to quietly sell their surplus goods to trusted colleagues, content to make a modest, risk-free profit.
Hearing this logic, Mother Sheng nodded in complete agreement. Sheng Wanyan officially “sold” the cotton to her mother at a rate of 1.50 yuan per kilogram—a mere twenty-five cents above the state cooperative price.
In the 1970s, twenty-five cents could buy a significant amount of daily necessities, so Mother Sheng naturally harbored no doubts about the slight markup.
“I’ll come down to the factory tomorrow and help you carry it all back,” Mother Sheng offered.
Sheng Wanyan’s eyebrows twitched nervously. If Mother Sheng showed up at the gates, how on earth would Wanyan find the time or privacy to pull the massive bags of cotton out of her spatial dimension?
“There’s no need, Mom,” she replied quickly. “I have the bicycle. I can just strap the bags to the rear rack.”
“Are you sure? It’s thirty-nine kilograms of cotton.”
“It’s lighter than carrying a person,” Wanyan pointed out smoothly.
Hearing this, Mother Sheng nodded in agreement. Transporting it via bicycle would indeed be much more efficient. Furthermore, she was a bit lazy after a long shift and preferred to head straight home to start cooking dinner anyway.
Sheng Wanyan calculated the total and handed the remaining 41.50 yuan back to her mother, but Mother Sheng waved the cash away.
“Wait,” Mother Sheng said suddenly. “Doesn’t your colleague Wu Jiaxiu’s husband work over at the state coal yard?”
“Yes, he does.”
Sheng Wanyan’s eyes lit up, instantly understanding her mother’s line of thought. If he worked at the coal yard, wouldn’t it be possible to secure extra heating fuel through his connections? She had been wracking her brain for a plausible excuse to bring her spatial coal stockpile into the apartment. After all, surviving the brutal winter would require a massive amount of fuel.
“I’ll ask her about it tomorrow,” Wanyan promised enthusiastically.
“Good. See if you can get us an extra batch.”
While mother and daughter were huddled in the bedroom meticulously plotting the household supplies, Father Sheng was standing suspiciously close to the closed door, his ear pressed near the wood, eavesdropping with intense curiosity.
Grandpa Sheng happened to walk out of his room and caught sight of him. He let out a loud, disapproving huff. His son was capable of many things, but eavesdropping like a neighborhood gossip was beneath him.
“What exactly are you listening to?” the old man barked.
“Dad! Shhh!”
Startled, Father Sheng frantically pressed his index finger to his lips, desperately signaling his father to keep his voice down.
Lately, his wife and daughter had been acting incredibly mysterious, constantly whispering behind closed doors. It left him feeling deeply unsettled and left out. Wasn’t it natural for the man of the house to take a few precautions and find out what was going on?
“Get out of the hallway!” Grandpa Sheng scolded, refusing to indulge him. “The women are just having a private chat. Why is a grown man acting so nosy?”
“Dad, why don’t you lower your voice?” Father Sheng hissed, waving his hands.
But seeing Grandpa Sheng’s expression darken ominously, Father Sheng had no choice but to retreat. He slinked back into the living room and slumped onto the sofa with a heavy sigh.
The bedroom door clicked open, and Sheng Wanyan walked out, clutching her roll of cash. She paused when she saw Father Sheng sitting on the sofa, looking incredibly aggrieved and refusing to utter a single word.
“Dad, what’s wrong with you?” she asked, blinking.
Father Sheng looked up at her, let out a dramatic sigh, waved his hand dismissively, and remained completely silent.
Sheng Wanyan just stared at him, thinking her father was acting incredibly weird tonight. Deciding it wasn’t worth the headache, she shrugged and walked back to her own room to secure the money her mother had given her.
Watching his daughter’s retreating back, Father Sheng opened his mouth, desperately wanting to ask what secret plans they had been making, but his pride absolutely refused to let the words out.
