Dreaming back to 1949, the great powers were there to deceive us

The "fund-raising" of the Bureau of Secrets was very humane, taking into account both public and private interests. Apart from hard currency (gold and silver) which had to be handed over, the higher-ups turned a blind eye to other miscellaneous items, such as jewelry, cloth, rice, flour, grain, oil, etc. As long as the items were not too excessive, the higher-ups were too lazy and had no time to investigate.

Who would be willing to work for a spy organization that doesn't even have funding and doesn't allow its subordinates to get any benefits?

Old Hu made a lot of money last night.

Unfortunately, there is no money to spend nearby.

Hu Zhenhua lay on his side under a tree, with his arms under his head and chewing grass roots in his mouth.

There is still some starch in the grass roots. Although the mosquito is small, it still contains meat.

As for drinking water, fortunately this is the south and there is no shortage of water. However, Lao Hu dare not drink too much water in the pond.

In those days, people died frequently, some from illness, some from starvation, some from war, and some from infancy. Many of their bodies were left exposed in the wilderness, so the water sources were not necessarily clean.

A stack of gold yuan notes, a few pieces of jewelry, a bellyband, and other miscellaneous things.

This is what Hu Zhenhua caught yesterday.

After a moment, their eyes fell on the gold yuan notes.

"One, two, three... eight!"

Hu Zhenhua jumped up and shouted, "One hundred million!"

A gold yuan note with a face value of 1 million!

What if such a large amount of money is lost?

Hu Zhenhua suddenly came to his senses. It was not that the gold yuan was valuable, on the contrary, it was worthless!

If he knew enough about history, he would know that the largest denomination of gold yuan notes was 60 billion.

Hu Zhenhua counted them and found about 11 of them, all with denominations over 10 million yuan, and the largest one had a denomination of billion yuan.

Hu Zhenhua pinched his chin and thought for a while.

“Everyone is a billionaire!”

Lao Hu’s dream from his previous life came true on the first day of his time travel.

If you are not good at math, you will have no idea how many zeros there are in the gold yuan.

The government is still very considerate. They know that it is inconvenient for ordinary people to carry a cart of money to buy things, so they invented large-denomination banknotes!

"Shit! Damn billionaire!"

Hu Zhenhua cursed and put away everything. The purchasing power of the gold yuan remained to be verified.

After resting for more than two hours, Lao Hu decided to continue on his journey.

I have just asked a fellow villager passing by and found out that two miles south there is a village called Lijiazhai, with about dozens of households.

Village is a relatively common name throughout the country, but each place has its own characteristics, such as the houses, villages, bridges, beaches, ponds, streams, ports, dams, bays, villages, towns, and houses in Shanghai.

Two miles is not too far.

Hu Zhenhua walked slowly, holding a wooden stick in one hand and a small dog in the other. He had to move forward in the most energy-saving way.

There are not many pedestrians on the road. It is wartime now, and everyone prefers to stay at home unless it is necessary.

Although the Kuomintang lost half of its territory and its influence was greatly reduced, the entire Yangtze River defense line was under military control, and the military, police, secret police and special agents were still very active.

Lao Hu’s short-term goal is to leave the possible battle area first, preferably more than 200 kilometers away from the Yangtze River, and then look for stations and docks.

So far, Lao Hu has run twenty miles, and this is within the Kuomintang-controlled area. If he were in the People's Liberation Army-controlled area, it would be difficult to run even two miles, let alone twenty miles. The road permit is a well-known anti-spy weapon.

There are still 190 kilometers to go, and there is still a long way to go.

The Li family was very wary of strangers. A young man working in the fields saw Hu Zhenhua and ran back quickly to warn him.

The reason for this is entirely due to the baozhang system, also known as the baojia joint responsibility system, in which neighbors jointly supervise and hold each other accountable.

During the Republican era, a baozhang (a local baozhang) could oversee up to 100 households, or families, totaling thousands of people. Because the position embodied power, it was a highly sought-after position, typically held by prestigious local gentry.

The Kuomintang's conscription, grain collection, and corvee labor were mostly carried out by the village head.

The Magic City is the core area ruled by the Kuomintang, so one can imagine the class nature of the village chief.

If Lao Hu hadn't been so hungry and needed to find a doctor to treat his wounds, he wouldn't have bothered to go into the village.

At the entrance of the village, Hu Zhenhua met the headman who had been waiting for him.

The headman observed Lao Hu from a distance.

He was 1.75 meters tall and strong, wearing a shorts, black shirt and black pants. Although his clothes were dirty, they were in very new condition, made of high-quality cotton.

Especially shoes, not everyone can afford leather shoes.

The most important thing is that there is a slight bulge at the waist, which seems to indicate that he is carrying a pistol.

The headman is well-informed and fits the above characteristics. He is either a bodyguard of a large family or a member of the military, police or secret service.

But, that little dog?

It's a bit inconsistent.

Who cares? As long as he's not a communist, everything is fine.

The chief bowed,

"Hello, Xisang, where are you from?"

Lao Hu felt like he was struck by lightning.

I don’t quite understand the Shanghai dialect!

When others travel through time, they perfectly inherit the host's memory, gain various skills, and are accompanied by a heaven-defying system.

How come when you come to me, not only do you become a scumbag, but your skills are also reduced.

Who is this to reason with!

A member of the Secret Service's Shanghai Station Action Team has lived in Shanghai for more than ten years, but can't actually speak Shanghai dialect!

Hu Zhenhua patted his head.

stupid!

How come I was able to obtain some of Lao Hu’s memories from the Republic of China when I first traveled through time?

After a while, Lao Hu came to a conclusion: the guy was not dead yet.

This is the only explanation.

Seeing that Lao Hu was silent for a long time, the head of the village was not anxious.

Although the back of Lao Hu's head had been simply washed, bloodstains could still be seen.

A villager nearby saw this and leaned over to the headman and whispered something in his ear.

The chief bowed again.

"Xiansang?"

Then the headman said a few more words.

Old Hu probably understood that the chief's real name was Li San Ge, but his mouth was a little crooked, so everyone called him Li Laowai. Gradually, he no longer used his real name.

After hearing the chief's name, Lao Hu felt much more at ease.

The gentry of this era attached great importance to family status and were very cautious when naming.

Third Brother Li?

The name sounds like a grassroots origin.

If you are not a gentry, you will certainly understand the suffering of the people and will not be so reactionary.

Hu Zhenhua opened his mouth, but no one knew what to say. He only spoke Mandarin, and he probably couldn't understand the villagers.

So he took out a stack of gold yuan notes, handed it over, and pointed to his mouth.

Li Laowai understood.

It turned out to be a beggar.

After giving some instructions to the villagers, the headman led Hu Zhenhua to his home.

As for the gold yuan coupons, forget it.

The price of that thing changes every day. You can buy a steamed bun today, but you can only buy half of it tomorrow. The day after tomorrow, you can only smell the steamed bun.

Besides, things are in short supply on the market, so having money doesn’t necessarily mean it will help.

Old Hu was a little embarrassed. Although he inherited some of the scum's memories, he knew very little about the gold yuan. He only knew that it had depreciated severely.

That scum rarely paid for anything he did, even going to brothels and secret doors, he did it on credit.

This is one of the reasons why Lao Hu ran away.

If I stay in the Magic City, who knows how many more disasters are waiting for me.

It's not that there are no valuables in Lao Hu's bag, but they can't be taken out. This place is only twenty or thirty miles away from the crime scene. If the jewelry is exposed, it might cause trouble.

A plate of five cornmeal and multi-grain steamed buns and a plate of boiled vegetables were the first meal of the time traveler Lao Hu.

The little dog's saliva was ten feet long and it kept whining.

Old Hu broke a steamed bun into small pieces, dipped it in vegetable soup, and placed it in front of the little dog. He also borrowed a bowl of water from the headman and placed it on the ground.

Although the headman felt a little distressed, he managed to hold back and didn't say anything.

In one minute, four steamed buns went into Lao Hu's stomach.

Old Hu is not old. Strictly speaking, he is only eighteen years old. He is an orphan who has been hanging around in the market for many years. He only joined the Secret Service six months ago.

Old Hu even admired that scum.

It would be fine if you were an old spy, but six months ago?

The Kuomintang has suffered repeated defeats in the north. Even if you are a pig, you would have to think about it.

And he joined the notorious Secret Service!

A complete loser and a scapegoat.

At this time, the top brass of the Bureau of Secrets are all heading to Guangzhou or Dongfan Island, while you are still "raising funds" in Shanghai, trying to save some money for the higher-ups before you die.

What kind of spirit is this? It is hard to describe the selfless spirit.

Lao Hu felt that he was only three-quarters full.

But there's nothing we can do. After all, we're just eating for free. What else can we do?

After drinking the last mouthful of vegetable soup, Lao Hu breathed a sigh of relief.

The stomach problem has been solved, and now it’s time to deal with the wound.

Old Hu pointed to the back of his head and stretched it out for the headman to see.

The headman understood and turned away.

Half an hour later, he came back with a doctor.

Hu Zhenhua was helpless. Could he still rely on the Li family's house for Western medicine?

The doctor looked at it for a while, picked up a pen and wrote a prescription, gave a few more instructions, and turned to leave.

Old Hu gritted his teeth, internally complaining, "Is this the end?"

I originally wanted to get some topical ointment to reduce inflammation, but at least you could use alcohol to disinfect it.

After the headman explained in a long and rambling manner, Lao Hu finally understood.

The wound on the back of the head has scabbed over. As long as it doesn't break, it's not a big problem.

The prescription prescribed by the doctor is to promote blood circulation and remove blood stasis. It should be taken for about three days, and then come back for a check-up.

Old Hu felt much more at ease.

Three days is just three days, the most important thing is to save your life first.

There are three rooms in Li Laowai's house. The main room is in the middle. His wife and grandson live in the west. The east room is occupied by Li Laowai and his wife. His son was drafted into the army and is probably starving by the Yangtze River now.

Li Laowai wanted to vacate a room, but Lao Hu refused.

If I live in the west room, it’s not suitable. If I live in the east room, I feel disgusted and deserve to sleep in the cowshed.

There were no cows in the cowshed anymore, only piles of dry firewood.

It was still very cold at night in Shanghai in April. Although Li Laowai was the head of the village, he was not rich and had no extra bedding. He had no choice but to put more hay on the bed.

Dinner was two sweet potatoes, one potato, and a plate of boiled radish.

If this is the life of the village chief's family, won't the villagers go hungry?

No wonder the people we saw at the village entrance all looked pale.

Modu is the economic center of the entire China. Even though it is in the countryside, it shouldn’t be this serious, right?

As the saying goes, live by the mountain, eat by the mountain; live by the water, eat by the water. The south has a dense network of waterways and rivers crisscrossing, so isn't it possible to fish?

"Are they playing a trick on me?"

Hu Zhenhua feels ashamed for having such thoughts!

The million-strong national army defending the Yangtze River, plus the defeated soldiers from the north, the fleeing civilians, and the retreating organizations all had to collect food and fodder nearby.

Where to raise funds? Of course, from rural areas.

Throughout China's 5,000-year history of civilization, the people suffered when it prospered, and the people suffered when it declined.

Hu Zhenhua lay on his side on the bed, unable to fall asleep for a long time.