Chapter 72

Military District Family Compound.

Su Ye spent ten yuan on a can of malted milk. With food prices rising so quickly, even malted milk had gone up. The can that used to cost six yuan now nearly doubled in price.

Carrying the can, Su Ye visited Zhou Honghan to check on her progress.

“Grandma Zhou, have you finished the parts?” Su Ye asked.

Zhou Honghan took off her reading glasses and sighed, troubled. “Ah, Little Su, I spoke too confidently.”

Designing a few parts should have been simple. Zhou Honghan calculated the density, hardness, pressure resistance, and maximum temperature tolerance, chose the materials, and completed the design. However, despite all her careful planning, she hadn’t anticipated that the factory capable of producing the necessary materials had long since ceased operations.

Factories producing tools for agriculture or household ironware were still operational due to demand, but they didn’t meet the standards required for industrial-grade parts.

Left with no choice, Zhou Honghan had to abandon her optimal design plan. She tried multiple materials and visited several factories, but the issue remained unresolved.

Hearing this, Su Ye became anxious. Fixing the oil press was no trivial matter. Several of her students’ parents worked at the Changyou Oil Factory. If the parents were laid off, how could the children focus on studying?

With middle school entrance exams approaching, the thought of students being distracted by family troubles, failing the exam, and regretting it for a lifetime was unbearable.

Su Ye was worried, and so was Zhou Honghan. Tens of thousands in foreign exchange, painstakingly saved by the people through every penny, were at stake. Each yuan was soaked in the sweat and tears of the people—it would be heartbreaking to waste it all.

After pacing back and forth several times and seeing Zhou Honghan buried in her books all morning, Su Ye had a sudden idea.

“Is the issue with the current materials failing to meet the oil press requirements due to insufficient hardness, or is it because they’re not heat-resistant enough?”

“What if we modify the machine to lower its material requirements? We could adapt it to fit basic materials. Then, we could have Director Lu send the machine to the steel factory for modifications. Although it would cost more, it’s still better than letting the machine sit there unused.”

Hearing this, Zhou Honghan’s eyes lit up, and the solution to the long-standing problem suddenly became clear.

Su Ye smiled and said warmly, “Grandma Zhou, give it a try. After all, we don’t have any other options. ^[1]“If there’s no path, we’ll carve one through the thorns” is a metaphor that means, when faced with obstacles or a difficult situation, you don’t give up just because the … Continue readingIf there’s no path, we’ll carve one through the thorns. This is what we call, ‘If conditions exist, proceed, if not, create them and proceed anyway.‘”

Su Ye’s confidence came from her own knowledge.

The Tyson oil press had long been rendered obsolete by history. In her memory, the screw-type oil press was compact and lightweight, ideal for small-scale workshops. Su Ye had briefly encountered it in books. As she continued researching, the idea of “improving the oil press” gradually took shape in her mind, growing stronger with each passing moment.

Zhou Honghan was greatly inspired and exclaimed, “Little Su, I didn’t expect your awareness to be so high! That’s right—if we lack conditions, we’ll create them!”

In the early days of the nation, the situation was far more challenging. There was nothing—poverty was extreme—but they still managed to establish the first Five-Year Plan. They built the first automobile factory, produced the first seamless steel pipe, and manufactured the first airplane. Compared to those days, things now were much better.

How could a small oil press be an unsolvable challenge for the people of China?

Su Ye spent the entire day helping Zhou Honghan go through reference materials, occasionally dropping strategic hints.

Encouraged by these pointers, Zhou Honghan entered deep thought, and soon, inspiration struck. She began sketching furiously, focusing intently for hours.

Su Ye was about to provide another “hint,” but she realized she didn’t need to. Astonished, she watched as Zhou Honghan worked tirelessly, her sketches inching closer and closer to what Su Ye remembered from the future. Su Ye was utterly impressed, filled with awe and admiration, even feeling the urge to kneel in deference.

Zhou Honghan, with her silver hair and straight posture, worked meticulously. A growing pile of discarded drafts formed a small mountain, and after hours of effort, the preliminary design for a new and improved oil press was complete.

Excited, Zhou Honghan lifted her head and said, “I’ll take these drafts to consult my former colleagues. Little Su, thank you so much for today!”

Flustered, Su Ye modestly replied, “I really didn’t do much. I’m already grateful that you don’t mind my interruptions and are willing to teach me!”

—

After leaving Grandma Zhou’s house, Su Ye felt elated. She took out a pound of pork belly she had prepared and wrapped it up carefully.

She then disguised herself and headed to the black market.

Using the pork belly as an ^[2]“entry ticket” refers to something that gives someone access to a specific place, situation, or opportunity.“entry ticket,” Su Ye managed to meet the most resourceful middleman in the black market.

The man extended his hand for a casual handshake. “My name’s Wang Hu.”

The name was probably as fake as the so-called “Nicai Village.” Su Ye cleared her throat softly and lowered her voice, transforming her crisp, youthful tone into the raspy voice of an elderly woman.

In a low, deliberate voice, she said, “I have ten pounds of pork belly and want to buy someone’s information. Anyone with news about this person can sell it to me. But if you can get me a complete and satisfactory report on them, the entire ten pounds of pork belly will be yours.”

Amidst the ongoing crackdown on black-market activities, those in this line of work had to be nimble and resourceful to survive. Wang Hu was well-known in the area, with access to far more information than Su Ye could possibly gather on her own.

After speaking, she handed over a pound of pork belly as a deposit.

Wang Hu, a fairly successful black-market dealer, couldn’t hide his longing when he saw the pound of pristine pork belly in her hands. Pork belly was a rarity these days. Even someone like him hadn’t seen a decent-sized piece of pork in a long time. He scrutinized Su Ye for a while before readily agreeing, “Deal.”

After Su Ye left, Wang Hu couldn’t help but mutter to himself, amazed. It was bizarre to see someone paying for information with pork belly in this day and age.

If she’d offered him cash, he might not have been as interested. But pork belly was a different story. Aside from critical sectors like government and the military, which still had limited access to pork, regular supply cooperatives hadn’t seen a trace of pork in over six months.

Ten pounds of pork belly might as well have been more valuable than ten pounds of gold.

In this business, success relied heavily on having the broadest network of information. Wang Hu spent three meticulous days investigating everything about Yu Fuda. From his birthplace to his education and career, he uncovered it all, leaving no stone unturned. He even found out which restaurant Yu Fuda frequented, where he kept his mistress, and an embarrassing story about him wearing open-crotch pants at the age of ten.

Wang Hu sealed all of Yu Fuda’s life details in an envelope and tucked it under a brick, contemplating whether to sell this information to Yu Fuda himself for a second profit.

But just as he placed the envelope down, he turned around and found a heavy bag of pork belly hanging right in front of him, startling him so much he shuddered from head to toe.

When he quickly turned back to check the envelope under the brick, it was gone—without the slightest sound or trace of movement. The whole thing was so eerily seamless that it felt supernatural, as if he’d been cursed.

A chilling wind sent shivers down Wang Hu’s spine. Cold sweat dripped down his forehead as the thought of double-crossing vanished completely from his mind. Someone with such skills could kill him effortlessly.

Terrified, Wang Hu grabbed the pork belly, mounted his bicycle in a panic, and pedaled away as fast as he could, disappearing down the street.

At the residential compound, Su Ye pulled out the envelope and carefully read through it.

The rumors turned out to be true. Yu Fuda really did have a wife back in the countryside, although they never registered their marriage, only held a ceremony. Back then, rural weddings didn’t usually involve obtaining a marriage certificate. His wife was ten years older than him, broad-shouldered and stout, with a fiery temper. Years ago, she had spent a hefty 100 yuan to support Yu Fuda through high school. Out of gratitude, he married her at the age of sixteen with a simple banquet.

After graduating high school, Yu Fuda became an accountant in the village. In 1952, he was transferred to a county textile factory as a worker, and in 1954, he moved to a glass factory. His career progressed smoothly after that, rising to a factory committee officer and, by 1959, being transferred to Changyou Oil Factory in City C as deputy director.

His career trajectory looked impressive, but as Su Ye flipped to the next page, she was met with juicy gossip that made her eyes light up. Wang Hu truly lived up to his reputation!

Tsk, tsk. After reading the letter, Su Ye covered her “innocent” eyes.

The following pages detailed Yu Fuda’s scandalous exploits, which were so spicy they made Su Ye’s eyes sting. Due to an accident, Yu Fuda’s wife became infertile. Despite being married for years, they never had children.

While working at the glass factory, Yu Fuda grew arrogant as he climbed the ranks. He secretly took on a mistress and, after transferring to City C, couldn’t bear to leave her behind, bringing her along in the hope she’d bear him a child.

During the past two years of famine, Yu Fuda made significant money by selling glass from the glass factory, refurbishing and reselling watches, and trading grain. Wang Hu didn’t specify the extent of his wealth but mentioned that Yu Fuda had built a blue-brick tiled house in the countryside. Meanwhile, his mistress in the city was adorned with gold and silver, and earlier this year, he gave her 100 yuan to make five sets of clothes, all while dining out and using countless ration coupons.

At the start of the year, Yu Fuda had even solicited several laid-off female factory workers, using his position to transfer them to the oil factory. Recently, he set his sights on Qin Lan, a beautiful young woman, and was already thinking about marrying her.

Wang Hu ended his report by noting that Yu Fuda maintained close ties with certain government officials, and there was a possibility he might soon be promoted to factory director.

Su Ye memorized the contents of the letter and burned it.

No wonder Yu Fuda acted so brazenly without anyone daring to challenge him. He had powerful backers supporting him from behind the scenes.

After burning the letter, Su Ye chatted with Gu Xiangqian, bringing up Qin Lan. She asked, “Xiangqian, are you familiar with anyone from the municipal committee?”

Gu Xiangqian gave her a surprised look and replied, “There are a few people I have good connections with.”

Su Ye’s eyes brightened. “I’d like to have a meal with their spouses. Could you introduce me to them?”

Without hesitation, Gu Xiangqian agreed, “No problem.”