Chapter 129 – Beibingyang Soda

Auntie Zhang rolled her eyes.

What could he possibly be up to?

What kind of person acts like that? Your future son-in-law comes to visit, and you just disappear without a word. Aren’t you worried people will laugh if word gets out?

Zhou Yimin put down the jar and continued, “This is tiger bone wine. One of the Eldest Uncles in my compound gave it to me.”

Auntie Zhang instantly understood. This was a man’s energy booster—especially effective, they said, for middle-aged men who had the desire but not the strength. She quickly took it to hide it away and thanked Zhou Yimin.

Then she went to handle the cooking and told her three daughters to keep Zhou Yimin company.

“Brother Yimin, the White Rabbit milk candies you gave us last time were so tasty,” Zhang Lu hinted slyly, probing to see if he had brought them any snacks.

Zhou Yimin understood immediately and laughed. “I’ve got something even better. It’s at home—wait for me.”

As soon as he stepped out, Zhang Yan and Zhang Yu ran to tell their mom what had just happened.

As expected, Zhang Lu got thoroughly scolded. She got an earful, called a “stupid girl” among other things, her mom practically breathing fire.

She knew how precious tiger bone wine was. He’d already brought a gift for the father-in-law, and here she was asking for snacks? What kind of hospitality was that?

Meanwhile, Zhang Jianshe arrived at Sun Guowei’s home.

“Old Sun, come help move stuff!” Zhang Jianshe called out proudly.

When you’ve got food on hand, you can speak a little louder.

“What’s this, Old Zhang?” Sun Guowei asked, eyeing the tricycle loaded with supplies behind him.

“Stuff Yimin found for us. Come on, let’s move it inside and divide it up. Everyone pays what it’s worth—don’t take advantage of the younger generation,” Zhang Jianshe said firmly. No way he’d let his future son-in-law get short-changed.

With that, Sun Guowei and the others quickly gathered around the tricycle.

Once they confirmed no one outside was paying attention, they hurried to unload the goods.

“Careful with that crate—it’s full of eggs,” Zhang Jianshe warned.

The men carrying it immediately slowed their pace.

Holy smokes! Another crate full of eggs. That meant everyone could get several jin again.

There was rice, flour.

And even a box of canned meat.

They all knew very well that most domestically produced canned goods were exported for foreign currency. Getting your hands on canned food was nearly impossible.

Old Zhou’s son must’ve gone through a lot of trouble to get them that box of canned meat.

Once everything was inside Sun Guowei’s house and the door was shut, they began dividing the goods.

“Old Gu, Old Liu, Dazhi, Zhenmin—they’re not from our compound, but they’re in our department. They should get a share too,” Sun Guowei said.

“Of course. I’ll go call Zhenmin,” one of them offered.

Zhenmin lived just a few compounds over, not far at all.

They decided to estimate the value of everything and chip in money on the spot for Zhang Jianshe to take back.

Knowing it was Old Zhou’s son who supplied all this, as elders, they couldn’t let the younger generation suffer a loss. So they were generous with the prices.

Zhang Jianshe took his share and the pooled money and headed back, not sticking around—after all, Yimin was still at his place!

“Old Zhang, tell Yimin thanks for us.”

Their salaries were decent, but getting hold of supplies was tough. Meals at home were usually meager.

But no one complained. They knew the country was going through hard times, and people everywhere were tightening their belts. Some places were even worse off than they were.

“Alright, that’s that,” Zhang Jianshe waved and left.

…

Zhou Yimin made a loop and came back holding a large styrofoam box. Inside were a few bottles of Beibingyang soda, some popsicles, a watermelon, and a goose.

Beibingyang soda was famous in the capital. There wasn’t a single child who didn’t love it.

It was a product from the Beibingyang Food Company—and how popular was it? Well, let’s put it this way: the line of trucks waiting to pick up goods started at the Anlelin factory outside Yongdingmen and stretched all the way to Shazikou, a good two or three hundred meters.

That massive, bustling line was a daily occurrence.

Trucks often waited directly at the production line—one box came out, one box got hauled off. The factory machines ran nonstop, yet demand still exceeded supply.

Back then, there were no fridges or freezers. Most corner shops or co-ops would fill a large tub with cold water, sometimes even throw in a chunk or two of ice, and soak the sodas inside.

But the sodas sold so fast, the water barely had time to cool them before they were snapped up by customers.

On streets and in alleys alike, whenever you saw a one-meter-square block of ice about 30 to 50 centimeters thick sitting at a shop entrance, you knew—no need to ask—they were selling Beibingyang soda.

Aside from the soda, everything else came from the in-store stockroom.

“You spoil that brat too much,” Auntie Zhang scolded.

Zhou Yimin glanced at the pitiful Zhang Lu and instantly knew she’d been chewed out by her mom.

“What does this have to do with Xiaolu? Auntie Zhang, don’t blame her. I—”

Auntie Zhang cut him off. “Yimin, you don’t need to cover for her. Don’t I know what kind of person my own daughter is?”

She gave her youngest daughter a glare that all but screamed “no sense at all.”

Zhou Yimin chuckled and gave Zhang Lu a look that said, I tried, then opened the styrofoam box.

Zhang Lu instantly let out a squeal and jumped up. A second ago she was about to cry, now her smile was so wide it practically burst off her face.

“Wow! Watermelon! And soda!”

Zhang Yu and Zhang Yan rushed over too.

Auntie Zhang, seeing the watermelon and goose, couldn’t help but smile wryly. Who gives gifts like this? she thought. Any one of these items alone is already a big deal.

She smacked her youngest on the butt and grumbled, “Stop making such a fuss.”

Zhou Yimin first took out the popsicles. He had carefully packed them so they wouldn’t get dirty.

“Here, try these first.”

What woman could resist ice cream or popsicles—especially in that era, when some had never even seen them before?

“Oh my! It’s got a milk taste. Is this made from real milk? It must’ve cost a fortune!” Auntie Zhang gasped after a bite.

Delicious, sure, but so extravagant. And she figured this kind of thing wasn’t easy to buy either—she had no idea how Yimin had gotten his hands on it.

“No idea. A friend gave it to me,” Zhou Yimin stuck to his go-to line. Anything with unclear origins always came from a “friend.”

Zhang Yan and the others took tiny bites, savoring what was probably the best treat they’d ever tasted.

Zhang Yu tried to lift out the watermelon, but Zhou Yimin quickly advised, “Leave it in for now. It’s been chilled—if you take it out, it won’t stay cold.”

There was crushed ice inside the box to keep the temperature low.

The watermelon had already been chilled before being placed in the store’s pack, so the temperature never changed.

Zhang Yan gazed at Zhou Yimin’s side profile, and her heart melted like honey.

(End of Chapter)