Ever since he was a child, Li Jianmin had possessed an instinctive fondness for earning money. The moment he stepped into the black market and witnessed the swift, silent exchanges, the subtle passing of money—he was dazzled. The rhythm of trade, sharp and efficient, ignited something deep within him.
In that surge of excitement, he even forgot to question where his younger sister had obtained two full sacks of radishes.
They quickly found a quiet corner along the courtyard wall to set up their stall. Beside them sat a middle-aged vendor selling wild pheasants. The man cast the siblings a curious glance when he saw the two grain sacks, but when his eyes shifted to Zhang Wenhao standing nearby, he lowered his head and asked nothing.
Though Zhang Wenhao's military uniform remained concealed beneath his outer clothing, the discipline in his posture and the commanding steadiness in his gaze were enough to deter idle inquiries. Some men carried authority in their bones.
Li Jianmin untied the sacks.
As he reached inside and lifted out two radishes for display, even he was stunned.
These were nothing like the yellowed, mud-caked, thin radishes they were accustomed to seeing at home. The ones in his hands were glossy white and full-bodied, their skin smooth and unblemished. A faint green hue crowned their heads where vibrant leaves still clung fresh and crisp. There was a natural coolness to them, as if they had just been pulled from moist earth. A subtle, clean aroma rose from them—fresh, faintly sweet, irresistibly inviting.
Anyone who caught that scent would feel an instinctive urge to take a bite.
Even Li Shuying felt a flicker of astonishment. Produce of this quality—even decades later—would only be found in high-end supermarkets in cities like Beijing or Shanghai. She had never expected the yield from her farm space to be of such extraordinary grade.
Zhang Wenhao, too, was momentarily speechless, though he chose not to ask questions.
It did not take long for others in the black market to notice.
Fresh radishes.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, people began drifting toward the siblings' stall.
After all, radishes were a staple—used daily in soups, stir-fries, and pickles. Yet purchasing fresh ones from the Supply and Marketing Cooperative was nearly as difficult as buying meat. The best produce was often quietly reserved by employees. What remained would be snatched up by early risers. By the time most arrived, only limp, bruised, or nearly rotten vegetables were left behind.
Here, however, lay perfection.
A small crowd gathered. No one spoke loudly. But their eyes—sharp, hungry, calculating—rested on the radishes. Their silent inquiries were clear enough.
Li Shuying thought for a brief moment before whispering, "Five jiao per jin."
Li Jianmin's eyes widened. He leaned closer. "Little Shuying… should we reconsider? Isn't that too expensive?"
She smiled faintly, her voice steady. "Third Brother, this isn't our village. In the county, good-quality fresh produce is rare. Radishes are a staple, and we are in the black market. Five jiao per jin. But if they have ration coupons—meat coupons or industrial coupons—then three jiao per jin."
Her reasoning was calm, deliberate.
Li Jianmin swallowed his hesitation and quoted the price in a low voice to the waiting customers.
He braced for protest.
None came.
The first customer quietly handed over one yuan.
Li Jianmin understood immediately—two jin. Without delay, he began filling her bag. They had no weighing scale, so he relied on instinct, giving slightly more rather than less. The woman said nothing, only nodded once and left swiftly with her purchase.
One by one, others followed.
Money exchanged hands. Coupons slipped into their palms. Radishes disappeared from the sacks at astonishing speed.
Even Li Shuying felt a stir of disbelief. She had anticipated decent sales—but not this effortless success. If this pace continued, her first significant capital accumulation would come far sooner than expected.
Before long, both sacks were empty. A few latecomers glanced at the bare cloth with visible disappointment before moving on.
Li Jianmin stared at the stack of banknotes, the ration coupons, and the loose coins in his hands. Excitement radiated from him like sunlight.
The three retreated to a secluded corner of the courtyard.
Unable to contain himself, Li Jianmin whispered in barely suppressed delight, "Little Shuying, we made so much money! Before we reclaimed Father's allowance passbook, we couldn't earn this much in an entire year!"
Li Shuying chuckled softly. "Then count it properly, Brother."
He nodded eagerly and counted once. Then again. Then a third time, just to be certain.
When he looked up, his voice trembled with astonishment. "Twenty five yuan and nine jiao. And six coupons—three industrial coupons, one meat coupon, and two oil coupons."
For a moment, silence lingered.
Not only Li Shuying but even Zhang Wenhao was stunned.
A factory worker—or even a director—would not earn that much in a single day. Yet they had made it in less than an hour.
Radishes were common fare, yes—but not rare like carrots or fruit in these years. Li Shuying had expected strong sales, but not to this extent. Had this been the peak of famine in 1959 or 1960, when people resorted to eating bark or even soft clay to survive, it would have been understandable.
But this was still 1958. The crisis had not yet fully revealed its claws.
And yet, people were willing to pay such inflated prices for quality.
She had deliberately set the price high for two reasons: first, to gauge the purchasing power and consumption threshold of the county residents; second, to establish a premium standard for her produce. Even if only a limited group could afford it, she wanted her goods positioned above the ordinary.
To her surprise, radishes that cost mere few fens—or at most a single jiao—at the Supply and Marketing Cooperative had just been sold for five jiao per jin.
What she did not know was what the buyers were thinking.
As one woman left the courtyard clutching her radishes, she said excitedly to her companion, "Tonight I'll make stir-fried radish slices. My husband and the children will love it. When was the last time we had radishes this fresh at home? I can hardly remember."
Her friend, who had also secured a purchase, laughed softly. "You're right. I still can't believe our luck. Look how plump and tender they are. They must have come from the south. Those children must be selling here for the first time—they don't even realize how cheap they let them go."
The two women shared a satisfied laugh as they disappeared into the alley, clutching what they believed was an extraordinary bargain.
Not far from the courtyard, a woman hurried into her maternal house, her face flushed with excitement.
"Mom! Look!" she exclaimed in a hushed yet thrilled voice. "Two foolish children were selling such good produce for only five jiao per jin. Feel this—so cool and fresh! And the aroma… isn't it wonderful?"
Her mother took the radish, weighing it in her palm. She pressed its smooth skin with experienced fingers, then lifted it to her nose. The crisp scent made her eyes brighten.
"Quick," she said at once to her daughter-in-law. "Go buy a few more jin before they're gone."
But by the time the daughter-in-law reached the courtyard, she could only return disappointed. The radishes had already sold out.
If Li Shuying and Li Jianmin had known they were being called "foolish" for selling at five jiao per jin, they would not have known whether to laugh or sigh. What they did not realize was that in many households across the county that evening, their radishes were the topic of animated discussion.
Yet none of that concerned them.
Their purpose had been clear from the beginning.
Without delay, they began purchasing grain. Without the strict purchasing limits in the black market allowed them a rare freedom. This time, they bought not only coarse grain but fine grain as well—along with salt, oil, and even a few spices.
Prices were slightly higher than those at the grain station or the Supply and Marketing Cooperative, but they were far from outrageous.
Corn cost seven jiao and five fen per jin. Millet and sorghum were nine jiao per jin. Since they had already secured some corn and millet from the grain station earlier, they purchased six jin of sorghum and three jin each of corn and millet.
For fine grain, they selected white flour at one yuan and five jiao per jin, purchasing five jin despite the steep price. White flour was a luxury in these times—a rare comfort on the dining table.
After these purchases, the money in their hands had dwindled to twelve yuan.
Still, Li Shuying did not stop.
Though she found no pork, she purchased three jin of wild boar meat at two yuan per jin. She disliked the strong gaminess of wild boar, but meat was meat. In these years, even the thought of meat on the table was enough to make one's mouth water.
When the final coins were counted, only six yuan remained.
Yet she felt no regret.
Their objective had been food security, and they had achieved it. With these supplies, their household would not need to worry for at least a month.
Carrying their purchases, they exited the courtyard and walked several dozen meters down the alley before slowing their pace.
Only then did Li Shuying turn to Zhang Wenhao, her eyes warm and sincere.
"Thank you, Uncle Wenhao," she said softly. "If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have earned so much today, nor bought so many supplies."
Zhang Wenhao smiled, waving a hand dismissively. "No need to thank me. You children are quite admirable yourselves. Since we are comrades in spirit, let us not speak of such formalities."
Li Shuying smiled in return. Then she quietly took out the two jin of radishes she had set aside earlier and slipped them into Zhang Wenhao's grain sack. His hands were already full, each gripping a heavy bag.
"This is for you, Uncle Wenhao," she said gently. "A small token of gratitude."
Zhang Wenhao startled slightly. "Little girl, you needn't give me anything. These are yours—take them home and eat them." He shifted as though to set his bag down and return the radishes.
Li Jianmin stepped forward at once. "Uncle Wenhao, please don't refuse. You helped us greatly today. It's only a small gesture. If you don't accept it, we'll feel too embarrassed to seek your help again."
Zhang Wenhao hesitated. It would be untrue to claim he was not tempted—the radishes were indeed exceptional. Still, taking food from children made him feel faintly ashamed.
After a moment, he nodded reluctantly. "Very well."
Then, as if unable to restrain himself any longer, he voiced the question that had lingered in his mind since the sale.
"Why did you sell the radishes so cheaply?"
Both Li Shuying and Li Jianmin froze.
Cheap?
Five jiao per jin was cheap?
Their expressions were so visibly stunned that Zhang Wenhao immediately understood. He had thought the children perceptive and calculating—but perhaps he had overestimated them. Then again, they were only thirteen and fifteen.
He cleared his throat.
"Produce of that quality is rare even in villages, let alone in a county town," he said calmly. "When agricultural goods are collected by the state, the finest portion is first allocated to major cities and key industrial centers. Only after that are the remaining goods distributed to smaller cities and counties."
He paused briefly before continuing, his tone steady.
"It may seem unequal, but it is necessary. The large cities house critical factories, research institutes, and defense industries. Ensuring their supply safeguards national production, strengthens the economy, and supports our country's development. In times of construction and transformation, resources must be directed where they serve the greater good."
His gaze returned to the siblings.
"That is why seeing produce of such quality here in the county is extremely rare. If you had asked for more, people would still have bought it."
The alley grew quiet.
Five jiao… was cheap?
It seemed she had underestimated the value of her farm's yield.