Chapter 82 – Someone at the Subdistrict Office

After greeting each other, Zhou Yimin took Zhou Dazhong to the subdistrict office.

Zhou Dazhong followed behind, filled with happiness, excitement, and anticipation…

He had a job now, and soon, he would have a house too. He could now be considered a city dweller. In the future, when he returned to the countryside in his work uniform, imagine how many people would envy him.

“Uncle Sixteen, I’m thinking of heading over to the Hongxing Commune tomorrow. They have a more abundant grain supply. Maybe I can procure something,” Zhou Dazhong suggested, having already come up with a plan.

The smaller villages, after all, were no different from their Zhou Family Village—there was no grain left. Anything edible had long been eaten, and plenty of people were still going hungry. Going to buy food there would be like fishing in the desert.

So, he set his sights on the commune.

“Mhm! Go and try your luck,” Zhou Yimin nodded.

He had his own plans—to get goods from the store in his mind and have Zhou Dazhong “sell” them to the steel factory. That was another way to circulate resources, all while keeping himself in the background.

But there was no need to rush. Let Zhou Dazhong hit a few walls first.

The two arrived at the subdistrict office.

“Yimin, you’re here? Come in quickly, Director Li just got back.” This time, the gatekeeper didn’t even ask what they were here for—he let them in straight away.

Who in the subdistrict office didn’t know Zhou Yimin’s name? Who didn’t know his relationship with Director Li?

“Uncle, take these back for your grandson to try,” Zhou Yimin said, pulling out a handful of candies and stuffing them into the old man’s hand.

The gatekeeper was overjoyed.

Zhou Yimin entered Director Li’s office. “Auntie Li, keeping busy?”

When Director Li saw that it was Zhou Yimin, her face immediately lit up with delight. “Yimin, perfect timing. Reporter Fang from Capital News is back again. He should be at your courtyard right now.

You! Always inventing useful things without a word. I heard about it—it’s called a solar stove, right? No need for firewood or coal, and it can still boil water and cook food.”

She was especially fond of inventions that helped ordinary people.

After speaking, she noticed the person behind Zhou Yimin.

“And he is…?”

“Auntie Li, this is my nephew from the countryside. He got a job at the steel factory. The factory assigned him a place to stay—right next to me in Courtyard No. 55.

I brought him here to register, pick up the key, and get his ration booklet and so on,” Zhou Yimin said. He hadn’t expected Capital News to act so fast. The solar stove hadn’t even officially reached the common households yet, and they were already here for an interview.

“Oh, your nephew? Alright, I’ll handle it. I’ll take him to check out the house later. You should hurry back,” said Director Li.

“Thanks for the trouble, Auntie Li.”

Zhou Yimin gave Zhou Dazhong a few quick instructions before rushing off.

Zhou Dazhong couldn’t help but admire his Sixteenth Uncle—he really was incredibly well-connected. Even in the subdistrict office, people treated him with such warmth. His relationships and network were truly something else.

Whether at the steel factory or the subdistrict office, it all felt like home.

So impressive!

Director Li asked a few questions, then helped Zhou Dazhong complete his registration, officially writing his name into the records for the vacant front room at Courtyard No. 55. She also issued him a ration booklet.

In this era, the household registration booklet, ration booklet, and ration tickets were incredibly important.

Each year, the subdistrict office collected your family’s household and ration booklets, verified them household by household, then redistributed them along with ration and oil tickets and other essential vouchers for food and supplies.

Large state-owned factories like the steel factory sometimes issued ration tickets as rewards to employees, but the majority of ration tickets came from the subdistrict office, based on each family’s status.

The ration booklet listed your name, occupation, grain quota, and purchase allowance.

At first, you could buy food at the grain store directly using just your ration booklet. Later, they began issuing actual tickets based on the ration and household booklets—grain tickets, oil tickets, cloth tickets, cigarette tickets, coal tickets, sugar tickets, and so on.

“You must keep your ration booklet and tickets safe. If you lose them, you won’t be able to buy food,” Director Li reminded him.

“Thank you, Director Li. I’ll be sure to keep them safe.”

Even if he lost himself, he couldn’t lose the ration book and tickets!

“Come on, I’ll take you to Courtyard No. 55.”

In truth, a small matter like this didn’t require the director herself—she could have just sent a staff member. But Director Li wanted to visit Zhou Yimin’s place too. Plus, this was Zhou Yimin’s nephew, so she decided to go in person.

Back at the siheyuan, Zhou Yimin happened to return just as Reporter Fang had missed him and was about to leave.

“Brother Fang, come, come in and have a seat,” Zhou Yimin said warmly and familiarly.

Reporter Fang brightened up at the sight of Zhou Yimin—his mood improved instantly.

“Sure!”

Once inside, they looked around the newly renovated house. Though not luxurious, it was clean and bright—very comfortable.

They really liked this style of renovation.

“Comrade Zhou Yimin…”

Zhou Yimin cut him off: “Brother Fang, just call me Yimin! No need to be so formal.”

That made Reporter Fang even happier. He nodded. “Alright then. I’ll take the liberty and call you Yimin from now on.”

Zhou Yimin brewed a pot of Maojian tea, which he had bought from the store in his mind—it wasn’t expensive.

“A friend gave me this tea. Said it’s a fresh batch—let’s all have a taste,” Zhou Yimin said with a smile.

“Oho! Then we’ve got to try it.”

Good tea was hard to come by these days, especially fresh tea. The North didn’t grow much tea at all. Even in the capital, many people were still drinking broken tea leaves.

Soon, the topic turned to the solar stove.

They got to the point: Reporter Fang began interviewing Zhou Yimin about the solar stove.

Handling this kind of simple interview was easy for Zhou Yimin. Reporters these days weren’t like the ones in later times—full of traps and tricks.

And given his current relationship with Reporter Fang, even if he said something sensitive, the reporter would help smooth it over and wouldn’t let him fall into a trap.

Internally, Reporter Fang and his team were amazed. Who would have thought that someone who hadn’t even been to university could invent two useful products back-to-back?

Before coming, they had already tested the solar stove themselves—it boiled a pot of water in 20 minutes and 9 seconds.

Yes, they had tested it. As journalists, they had to stick to the facts. Reporter Fang was especially put off by the exaggerations of recent years—claims like “10,000 jin per mu” or “pigs as big as elephants.”

But given the current social climate, there wasn’t much he could do to change things on his own.

As the interview went on, Reporter Fang took notes, circling some key points.

Back at the office, he would polish the draft and correct any flaws in the content.

“Yimin, have you thought about what to invent next?” Reporter Fang asked, sipping his tea.

Zhou Yimin shook his head. “No ideas for now. Let’s see what the people need. Also, I still have a lot to learn. My knowledge base is very shallow at the moment.”

“Have you thought about going to university?”

“Learning doesn’t have to happen in school. While we build the country and serve the people, we can also learn. As the saying goes—live and learn!”

…

(End of Chapter)