Chapter 24: Chen Fugui

At the east side of the Qianmen Arrow Tower, the tea stall remained largely unchanged, still staffed by twelve people and bustling with customers. However, Huang Zhanying had been deeply preoccupied lately.

A newspaper report had originally sparked the tea stall’s popularity, causing revenue to soar to over 3,000 bowls a day. With such success, copycats soon emerged. Not long ago, another cooperative had brazenly set up a competing tea stall on the west side of the Arrow Tower, and with twenty staff members, they were far more formidable.

This had siphoned off a significant number of customers. Huang kept a tally, and daily sales had dropped to just over 2,000 bowls.

"It’s getting hotter by the day... Say, will you still be selling tea in the summer?"

"We’ll serve it chilled in the summer; it’s quite refreshing."

"Oh, that’s fine, but I personally prefer popsicles; that’s what really cools you down."

"We’ll have them! Once the heat really hits, we’ll stock up on popsicles. You come back then!"

After sending the customer off, Huang went back to wiping the table, his worries easing slightly. As the saying goes, "A pre-laid plan secures the Liaodong." Someone had already mapped everything out, even arranging the sources of supply.

"Warm a bowl of wine, and bring a plate of fennel beans!"

A light, casual voice reached his ears. Huang didn’t even look up as he replied, "Sorry, comrade, this is a tea stall. If you want wine, go to the small liquor shop; there’s one right over there."

"Lack of culture. Personal refinement is also a part of the revolutionary struggle, you know!"

Hm?

Huang looked up and saw that familiar figure leaning on his "Double Eight" bicycle, grinning at him.

"Ah!"

"Comrade Chen Qi!"

"Comrade Zhanying! We’ve finally united at Jinggangshan!"

The two men shook hands firmly.

"Chen Qi is back!"
"Everyone, come quick, Chen Qi is back!"
"Did you finish the script? How was it? Can it be filmed?"
"Does this mean we’ll be able to see your work in the cinema soon?"

His companions crowded around. Chen Qi shook hands with each of them, spouting incomprehensible phrases like "the literary front is in the heat of battle" and "filming good movies is serving the people." Everyone burst into laughter, and the area around Qianmen was filled with a sense of joy.

After the commotion subsided, everyone returned to work. Huang pulled him behind the tea stall, where they now had small stools instead of having to sit on the ground.

"Not long after you left, the district leaders came by. It was sudden, no notice, so I couldn’t tell you. They praised us a lot and said they supported us, but I didn’t see any concrete action. They also said the city leaders would come, but no date was set. I was waiting for a confirmed time before coming to find you."

"That’s fine, you did the right thing." Chen Qi nodded. He didn't need to meet the district leaders personally; that was a job for the city officials. Even Brother Jiayin meeting a provincial leader was, after all, just a meeting.

"How’s business lately?"

"A bit tough. They opened a tea stall on the west side, and I heard there’s one in the Temple of Heaven Park now too. Tea stalls are all the rage."

"Did the sandals arrive?"

"Five hundred pairs, stored at the neighborhood committee office."

"Five hundred? That’s nowhere near enough! Five thousand wouldn't be enough!"

"You really dare to dream. How would the No. 2 Plastic Factory give us fifty thousand pairs?"

After a brief chat, Chen Qi stood up and clapped his hands to gather everyone. "Comrades, you’ve worked hard these past few days. I’m ashamed I wasn’t here, but I’m no deserter; I was simply fighting on the literary front. You know I went to revise the script, and now, it’s been approved. I wanted to celebrate with you all, but I don’t have any ration coupons on me. So, see how many coupons you can scrape together, and I’ll cover the bill—let’s all go out for a meal!"

The crowd applauded thunderously, laughing, "Writing scripts really is different; you sound just like a leader."

"Haha, shall we call you Director Chen from now on?"

"Don’t say that, 'Director Chen' actually sounds pretty good!"

"I want meat! Braised pork belly!"

Chen Qi stayed a little longer before pedaling away on his bike. He specifically rode to the west side of the Arrow Tower to take a look. Indeed, there was another tea stall there with about twenty people, lively and energetic. The two spots were about a hundred meters apart; they could hear each other shouting.

According to Huang Zhanying, although this group was running a tea stall, they weren't causing trouble or provoking anyone; they were just quietly doing business. The neighborhood committee couldn’t really say anything; after all, they were both cooperatives. Large-bowl tea wasn't a monopoly.

"Twenty people is quite a lot. If I can absorb them, I should. Strengthening our own ranks is a form of influence."

Chen Qi rode away, swaying gently, wondering if he should stage a fierce business war in 1979.

***

"Old Chen’s kid is back!"
"Yo, he’s back. Was his script shot down?"
"I wish, but it actually passed! My kid graduated from high school and sat in his room for two hours and could barely squeeze out five characters. Where’s the justice in that?"

"It’s just talent, that’s all. Talent is an unreasonable thing!"

Chen Qi returned to the compound, once again subjected to the scrutiny of people looking at a circus monkey. Working at the Xinhua Bookstore meant that, however mundane their daily lives, they were at least literate. Being literate meant reading more, and reading more meant thinking more; everyone felt like a "fallen angel" with a touch of the petit bourgeois in their bones.

Books and movies were the two spiritual pillars of the compound. And yet, they were told that the ordinary child of their colleague had somehow knocked out a script that actually got approved? What was this, a "Genshin Impact" launch?

They were envious, jealous, and red-eyed as if he’d raided the coffers of capitalism.

The compound consisted of seven inner courtyards and over a hundred people. They had practically worn down the threshold of the Chen household. Three out of every ten were there to gawk, three were there to be snide, and the rest were there to act as matchmakers.

"Xiuli, it’s not that I’m meddling, but your boy is nineteen. You should settle his marriage soon so you can worry less. My niece works at a garment factory, makes forty yuan a month, beautiful, tall—just a tiny little blemish on her face."

"Don’t listen to her nonsense! Her niece’s mole is bigger than a pot lid!"

"I have a niece who’s even better, she looks just like Liu Xiaoqing..."

Chen Qi sat quietly in the corner, maintaining a polite smile, offering no opinions. Chen Jianjun sat nearby, beaming and occasionally chiming in, as this was clearly Yu Xiuli’s show.

Yu Xiuli had long since let her emotions run wild, holding court in their twenty-square-meter room. In over forty years of life, this was the most satisfying moment she had ever experienced.

Better than her wedding day!

"To be wealthy and not return home is like wearing silk in the dark." Chen Qi hadn’t hidden anything; he had returned openly. Once the neighbors finally left, he also openly discussed his royalties.

If his family were full of toxic relatives, hiding a bit of money would be fine, but his family was good, so there was no need. Besides, these eight hundred yuan—honestly, he could earn it whenever he wanted.

But the impact on his parents was immense.

"You, you, you actually got this much in royalties?"
"Did the Beijing Film Studio make a mistake?"

His parents stared blankly at the savings passbook with its red and yellow cover, which read "Demand Deposit Passbook" above the emblem of the People’s Bank of China.

The passbook was made of heavy kraft paper with visible coarse fibers. The "Big Three" banks—the Agricultural Bank, the Construction Bank, and the Bank of China—were currently in the process of restoring their operations, and the ICBC would be established in '84.

"Here’s what I’m thinking: we only have one radio at home. We should add something else."

"Let’s buy a television, and a tape recorder so we can listen to music. Then let’s buy another bicycle so we have two; that way we have enough to get around separately. Ouch..."

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Yu Xiuli slapped him, scolding, "A 9-inch black-and-white TV costs 400 yuan! A foreign-brand tape recorder costs over 200. You only earned 800 in total, and you want to spend it all at once? You spendthrift!"