Li Shuying was little stunned with what she heard. In her previous life, black markets had indeed existed—but according to her memory, they only began surfacing around the middle of 1959 and thereafter. The fact that one was already operating now surprised her. Either her recollection was flawed, or the undercurrents of this era had always run deeper than they appeared on the surface.
So it has already begun… she thought.
Just as her mind wandered through speculation, a crisp, mechanical ding sounded clearly in her ears.
That sound—she would never mistake it.
In her previous life, when this farm had merely been a virtual game, that very chime signaled that crops or poultry products were ready for harvest.
She stopped in her tracks.
For a fleeting second, she lowered her lashes and sent her consciousness inward.
The familiar system space unfolded before her. The radishes stood plump and vibrant in neat rows, their leaves a rich, healthy green. They were ready.
With a single thought, her consciousness entered the control room. The interface responded instantly. She harvested the entire patch of radishes, their yield flowing smoothly into the warehouse. The hay was gathered next, bundled and stored. Without delay, she replanted another batch of hay in the same field.
Her gaze shifted toward the poultry shed.
The chickens were restless—hungry. She fed them hay from storage, watching as they settled contentedly. In the woven basket nearby lay the first batch of eggs—four in total, smooth and pale beneath the soft glow of the sunlight.
She collected them and stored them in the warehouse as well.
Only then did her thoughts circle back to the idea that had taken root the previous day.
Before her rebirth, she had earned experience points by selling harvests to virtual customers within the game. But now, this farm was no illusion.
If she sold the produce to real people… would the system recognize it? Would she level up?
The moment the thought formed, another realization followed.
They were on their way to the black market.
A perfect opportunity.
Her heart beat faster—not with fear, but with anticipation.
She withdrew her consciousness and opened her eyes.
Zhang Wenhao and Li Jianmin were staring at her with awkward concern.
A chill brushed her spine.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, trying to steady her voice.
Li Jianmin stepped forward immediately. "Little sister, are you alright? We've been calling you for quite some time. You didn't respond at all."
Guilt pricked her heart at the worry in her third brother's eyes.
"I… I was just thinking about something," she replied softly.
Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, she turned to Zhang Wenhao. "Uncle, is it possible to sell things at the black market as well?"
Zhang Wenhao was about to nod when Li Jianmin interjected, suspicion creeping into his tone. "Little sister, what could you possibly want to sell? Don't tell me you made some flower ornaments again and plan to trade those?"
Li Shuying forced an awkward smile. "No… I suddenly remembered that someone nearby might want to sell something. Please wait for me here. I'll be back very soon."
Before they could question her further, she darted toward the alley's exit. After turning a corner, she quickly glanced back. Seeing that neither of them had followed, she slipped into a secluded nook between two brick walls.
In an instant, her consciousness entered the system space once more.
Behind her, Li Jianmin stood stunned. He called out her name twice, but she had already vanished around the bend.
Zhang Wenhao raised a brow, mildly startled. Yet after a moment, he gave a small chuckle. "Don't worry. Didn't she say she knows someone around here? Children her age are always eager to earn a bit of pocket money. Let's wait."
Li Jianmin hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.
Inside the system space, Li Shuying moved swiftly.
She took half of the harvested radishes and placed them into the two grain sacks she had prepared earlier. A few she set aside—some for Zhang Wenhao as thanks, and some to bring home.
Yet another problem loomed before her.
What explanation would she give her third brother?
That question gnawed at her more than the risk of the black market itself.
Leveling up the farm space was urgent—vital. If necessary, she could share part of her secret with him. But the system space itself… no. That was far too strange, too beyond ordinary comprehension. Not that she doubted Li Jianmin's loyalty—she trusted him with her life—but the existence of such a space was something that could invite fear, or worse, disaster.
She would need a story. A convincing one. Something that could last for years.
And perhaps—she allowed herself a small, daring thought—she could make him her partner.
After all, she was only thirteen. There was only so much she could accomplish alone.
Li Jianmin was fifteen, already tall and broad-shouldered for his age. Since childhood, he had possessed an uncanny instinct for business. Before private trade had been banned, he had found ways to earn small sums here and there—reselling odds and ends, bartering cleverly with neighbors. He had ideas, bold ones.
It was only in the past year and a half, after private enterprise had been abolished and private trade was labeled profiteering—a punishable offense—that his natural talent had been forced into silence.
If anyone could help me navigate this tide… it would be Third Brother, she thought.
With that resolve, Li Shuying tightened the mouth of the grain sacks and withdrew from the system space and started walking towards the ally her brother was waiting with two grain bags.
The moment Li Jianmin saw her reappear, he exhaled in relief. But that relief vanished instantly when he noticed the two bulging grain sacks she was dragging behind her, straining with all her strength.
He rushed forward. Zhang Wenhao followed closely, his brows knitting in confusion.
"Little Shuying, what is this?" Li Jianmin asked, already taking one sack from her hands. Zhang Wenhao silently lifted the other with ease.
The weight startled Li Jianmin. The sack was full—solid. Through the coarse fabric, he could feel the firm, rounded shapes within.
Radishes.
But far too plump to be ordinary ones.
Li Shuying gave a small, composed smile. "Brother, these are radishes. I want to trade them in the black market."
For a moment, Li Jianmin simply stared at her.
Two sacks. Filled to the brim.
His fingers trembled slightly around the rough hemp cloth. How could he not be shocked? In 1958 food was life. Even if radishes were not grain, they were sustenance. Something placed on the family table. Something that meant survival.
And vegetables cost money.
Since private plots had been abolished, harvests belonged to the state and the brigade. Small yields like sweet potatoes, beans, vegetables—were either grown in village backyards for personal use or collectively cultivated on tiny portions of collectively owned land under the People's Commune. A portion was contracted to the Supply and Marketing Cooperative; the rest was used in the communal canteen.
Only when famine will tighten in 1960 and 1961 and communal canteen will parmanatly close, will authorities allow each household to own a small private plot, less than half a mu for growing private vegetables, and even grains in small quantity. But for now imagining someone cayyong so much fresh yelid was nearly unimaginable.
Yet here his thirteen-year-old sister stood with two sacks of fresh produce.
He opened his mouth to question her—but Li Shuying shot him a subtle look, a quiet plea.
Not here.
Li Jianmin froze for half a second, then closed his mouth. He understood.
She doesn't want to talk Infront of Zhang Wenhao.
Li Shuying turned to Zhang Wenhao. Though he tried to maintain composure, astonishment flickered across his face.
"Uncle Wenhao," she asked softly, "can I sell these radishes in the black market?"
Zhang Wenhao blinked, then recovered himself. "Of course," he replied after a brief pause. "Radishes are daily necessities. They're eaten with every meal. They might even sell faster than grain."
Li Shuying nodded and reached as if to take back the sack, but Zhang Wenhao shook his head firmly.
"I'll carry it," he said. "You're still a child."
After walking for nearly ten minutes and turning through several narrow alleys, Zhang Wenhao finally stopped before a secluded large courtyard house. Its outer walls were plain, the wooden gate weathered but sturdy—no different from any other residence in the county, only unusually large.
He knocked softly. Not once, but in a measured rhythm.
After a short pause, the door opened just enough to reveal a woman in her early thirties. She wore simple cotton clothing and had the appearance of an ordinary housewife. Yet the sharpness in her eyes betrayed vigilance and calculation.
Zhang Wenhao inclined his head slightly. "Comrade, I'm here to find someone. Is it possible?"
The woman said nothing. Instead, she gestured toward a small wooden box placed discreetly beside the gate.
Understanding immediately, Zhang Wenhao took out five jiao and dropped the coins into the box.
Only then did the woman open the door wide enough for one person to pass through.
They entered one by one.
The door closed quietly behind them.
Li Shuying's breath stilled at the sight within.
What she had imagined as a few scattered vendors in a small yard was something far more organized.
The courtyard opened into a spacious compound, almost the size of a warehouse. Nearly thirty or forty vendors sat in orderly rows, their goods spread on cloths or simple wooden boards. Buyers moved between them in steady flow.
Grain dominated the scene—mostly coarse grains such as sorghum, millet and cornmeal, though a few stalls offered fine grain in smaller quantities. There were eggs, wild game, handcrafted items, bamboo mats, woven baskets, and other practical goods.
But nowhere did she see fresh vegetables.
Nowhere.
People gravitated toward the grain stalls, and transactions happened swiftly. No one spoke loudly. Voices were hushed, words whispered. Money and goods exchanged hands with practiced efficiency.
There were other entrances too—she noticed subtle openings along the courtyard walls where people slipped in and out.
It was controlled chaos.
Order within secrecy.
Li Shuying's eyes sharpened.
There's demand. And no competition.
She turned slightly toward Li Jianmin and whispered, "Brother, no one is selling fresh vegetables. Let's set up a stall for the radishes. Once we sell them, we can buy grain—and if we earn enough, perhaps even some fine grain to bring home. What do you think?"
Li Jianmin, seeing a black market for the first time, was still absorbing everything—the speed, the caution, the tension in the air. But at his sister's words, something awakened in his gaze.
Opportunity. After all selling was his forte and he loved doing it.
He gave a firm nod.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Let's find a place to set up a stall."