Chapter 38 Purchasing Books

Although Zhang Tiejun gave his word, it still failed to ease Zhang Xiaohua's anxiety. Over the next hour, Zhang Xiaohua neither cried nor made a fuss, remaining completely silent even when passing by a street vendor selling sugar figurines.

Zhang Tiejun originally intended to offer some more explanation, but found it difficult to bring it up. Soon, the two of them arrived at the fabric merchant's stall.

"Give me seven chi of printed calico." Zhang Tiejun passed the fabric coupons and cash together across the counter.

Generally speaking, anyone who could afford to buy seven chi of printed calico in one go was making a major purchase. However, everything had now been nationalized, and even the shop assistants had secured stable government jobs, causing the clerk's tone to become rather indifferent.

"The fabrics on both sides are the same, take your pick," said the plump young female clerk, who was cracking melon seeds, as she pointed to the colorful patterned cloth on the counter.

Unwilling to pick a fight with these people, Zhang Tiejun simply looked down at Zhang Xiaohua: "Xiaohua, the New Year is almost here. I'm going to make you a new outfit. See what color you like."

Zhang Xiaohua shook her head and said desolately, "Brother, anything is fine for me..."

"Then let's go with red for everything. It's festive. I'll make you a red padded cotton jacket, and one in purple for Mother." Zhang Tiejun weighed his options, selected the fabrics, and handed them to the clerk.

Just as they picked up the bundles of cloth and prepared to head downstairs, they suddenly noticed an antique-looking room not far away. Unlike the other sections bustling with crowds, this room was surrounded by quiet.

"Brother, what are you doing at the bookstore?" Zhang Xiaohua grew even more uneasy.

Zhang Tiejun quickly explained, "Let's go see if there's anything interesting and buy a book to take back."

"Since when can you read?" Zhang Xiaohua asked with wide eyes.

Only then did Zhang Tiejun realize that, logically speaking, someone like him who had never attended school should be illiterate.

"Even if I can't read characters, can't I look at pictures? Once you go to school, you must study hard and come back to teach your brother how to read," Zhang Tiejun fabricated an excuse to brush it off.

"Oh! Brother, I want to look at those over there!"

Children will be children. Zhang Xiaohua's attention was quickly captured by a collection of manhua picture books, and the two agreed to meet at the bookstore entrance in ten minutes.

Zhang Tiejun strolled leisurely past the bookshelves. He had to admit that books from this era truly possessed much higher educational value than those of the future.

*Emergency First Aid Manual*, *Outline of National History*, *Animal Husbandry Standards*, *Forging Methods*—Zhang Tiejun casually flipped through a couple of volumes, deeply moved.

Unlike modern concepts that endlessly convoluted a single term into one or several paragraphs of abstract definitions, these books focused heavily on practical instructions. For instance, they detailed how to disinfect knife or gunshot wounds, how to cultivate mushrooms for rapid sprouting, what actually transpired in past history, and how to simply remove impurities from pig iron, rather than philosophizing about the significance of iron-forging or the greatness of medical science.

Before long, Zhang Tiejun found a small booklet among the stacks that genuinely interested him: *The Guandong Mountains 1:10,000 Transportation Map*.

Drawing a 1:100,000 military map required at least a decade and was subjected to strict confidentiality. Fortunately, it had only been ten years since the war ended completely, and quite a few maps were still circulating in the marketplace. With this in hand, Zhang Tiejun could travel to other communes or production brigades within the Guandong Mountains. He had to admit that in those years before smart maps, long-distance transport and freight hauling required specialized guides, or drivers holding thick stacks of maps. While one person drove, the other was responsible for navigating the relevant routes and geographical landmarks—which was precisely the origin of the term "co-pilot."

Zhang Tiejun had not expected that a simple trip to town for New Year supplies would yield such an unexpected windfall.

After wrapping up the atlas, Zhang Tiejun turned his attention to a dusty bookshelf not far away.

The success of a bookstore entirely depended on shifting trends. Once outdated books fell out of favor with the general public, their ultimate fate was either gathering dust in a corner, slowly rotting in damp conditions, or worse, serving as teething tools for warehouse mice.

Zhang Tiejun walked over slowly, reached out, and pulled down a leather-bound thread-stitched volume. With a gentle blow, a cloud of dust mixed with damp mildew scattered into the air.

Covering his nose with his hand, Zhang Tiejun waved the air clear. Only after the dust settled did he manage to read the large characters on the cover: *Records of Strange Occurrences in the Guandong Mountains*.

Judging by the appearance, this must have been an old book from over a decade ago. Back then, the entire Guandong Mountains region was occupied territory. To promote their shameful co-prosperity culture, the invaders had turned their sights toward culture, mandating that all publications undergo their strict censorship.

However, trying to wage a war of words against a nation with thousands of years of cultural heritage showed that those islanders, barely taller than three blocks of tofu, had miscalculated.

Renowned literary figures had hidden their thoughts within the pages, using their pens as swords to treat those islanders as mere playthings. *Records of Strange Occurrences in the Guandong Mountains* served as one such representative work. The author had utilized the region's unique religious and cultural belief in "Chuma Xian" (animal immortals) to depict those inhuman invaders as various wild beasts, thereby venting their inner emotions.

Although it contained a certain degree of illusory framing, many of the animals described were based on realistic foundations, which would prove quite helpful for Zhang Tiejun's future hunting expeditions in the mountains.

Just as Zhang Tiejun pulled the book from the shelf, a delicate and refined face appeared through the gap between two upright books.

It was the face of a young woman—a countenance brimming with intellectual grace and poise.

The girl was tilting her head back, her hand raised high in mid-air. Only then did Zhang Tiejun realize that he and this young woman had tried to grab the exact same book.

Although the bookstore was housed inside the state-run department store building, its interior design was completely different. The entire room exuded an antique charm, preserving the old elm wood flooring, while an old-fashioned Baroque chandelier hung from the aged timber ceiling.

A solitary vintage gramophone played creakily, spinning out Mozart's Symphony No. 5.

"Hello, do you like this book too?" the girl spoke first.

Zhang Tiejun nodded. "Yes, I've been looking for this book for a long time."

The girl looked somewhat embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, would you be willing to give it to me?"

"Are there no others?"

"No, this is the only copy."

The girl hurried over to Zhang Tiejun with an anxious look. She was wearing a light blue traditional Chinese cheongsam with slits reaching up to her knees—the quintessential attire of a lady—along with flesh-colored stockings and pure white low-heeled shoes. Carrying a small delicate handbag, she cut the picture of a well-bred young lady from a distinguished family, the sunlight painting a soft, warm glow across her figure.

The bookstore was situated by the window on the second floor. Looking out from here, one could see a small river that had not yet frozen over, the gentle babbling of its current constantly tapping against the glass windowpanes.