Back to 1980: Farming the Sea and Expanding the Island

The commune's market was set up in an open space at the west end of the town. From a distance, it was already crowded with people, and waves of noise came one after another.

As soon as the oxcart came to a stop at the edge of the market square, Xiaoman eagerly grabbed Lin Chuan's sleeve and jumped down.

The world before their eyes immediately filled them completely.

Lin's mother, Aunt Liang, and Wang Haiyue and her daughter plunged into the daily necessities section, their targets being salt, kerosene, matches, needles and thread, and other essential items.

Lin's father strolled over to the farm tool stall, carefully considering whether he should get a more suitable shovel, his eyes revealing his consideration for the quality of the farm tools.

Lin Chuan, carrying the water monkey, led Xiao Man and Xiao Wu into the bustling market.

The crowd surged like a tide across the compacted earthen ground.

An old man selling bamboo crafts in front of them called out in a drawn-out voice, "Baskets and winnowing baskets!" while a woman selling needles and thread in the west shouted in a high-pitched voice, "Thimbles and thread are cheap!"

Occasionally, some stray children would run wild in the crowd, followed by shouts and curses from their parents.

Lin Chuan held Xiao Man's hand, while Shui Houzi pulled Xiao Wu on the other side.

The air smelled somewhat mixed; the freshly fried dough sticks had a caramelized aroma, while the raw pork stall had a faint, fishy smell.

There was also the smell of hay and manure wafting from the livestock market, and occasionally the smell of face cream, all mixed together, mingling with the smoke and the crowd, and the hot, steamy smell hit you in the face.

"Brother, over there!" Xiaoman, with her sharp eyes, immediately spotted the colorful stall on the side of the field.

Lin Chuan walked closer and saw that it was a shop selling plastic products.

A bamboo pole stretched horizontally, covered with colorful hair clips, combs, and hair ties. The red, green, and yellow plastic items were particularly eye-catching.

The stall owner, a lean middle-aged man, was gesturing with a pink comb to two girls: "Good stuff, this is from Shanghai! It's so durable it won't break!"

Xiaoman listened to the footsteps and stared intently at the middle of the bamboo pole.

Lin Chuan noticed a red butterfly hair clip inside, with a few cheap gold sequins on its wings.

Lin Chuan smiled and asked, "Comrade, how much is this hair clip?"

The stall owner turned his head, sized up Lin Chuan and the few teenagers beside him, and said with a glint in his eye, "These aren't ordinary hair clips, they're the latest style. Look at the workmanship... Four cents, no bargaining."

Xiaoman subconsciously gripped her brother's clothes tightly, remaining silent and just watching longingly.

Lin Chuan smiled, didn't reply, reached out and took off the hair clip, then looked at it in the light.

The plastic is a bit thin, and the burrs on the edges haven't been properly sanded off. The gold sequins are glued on, and they're already starting to peel up.

It was clearly a cheap, low-quality product from a small workshop, but in a rural market in 1980, it was fashionable.

"Sanmao." Lin Chuan handed the hair clip back. "If it's okay, wrap it up."

The stall owner was taken aback, probably not expecting this young man to be so shrewd and efficient at bargaining. He muttered, "Thirty-five cents, that's the lowest I can go. I carried this all the way from the county..."

"Just three cents. Add one more cent, and we'll go see the old man's bamboo dragonfly next door."

The stall owner glanced at Lin Chuan, then at Xiao Man who was staring longingly at the hair clip, and finally sighed.

He grabbed the hair clip, rolled it up haphazardly with a small piece of old newspaper, and said, "Alright, alright, three cents it is. My first sale of the day, selling at a loss!"

"Thank you, brother." Xiaoman happily accepted it, eagerly opened it, and carefully picked up the red butterfly.

Lin Chuan smiled and helped Xiao Man fasten the ribbon, but it only stopped after he tried twice.

"Is it pretty?" She looked up at Lin Chuan with bright eyes, then turned to Liang Wenwu and the water monkey beside her.

Liang Wenwu nodded vigorously: "It looks good."

The water monkey chuckled, "It looks like a real butterfly about to take flight!"

Xiaoman immediately became smug, walking with a swagger. The red butterfly fluttered along with her.

Passing through the area selling homespun cloth and cotton, a sweet, caramel-like aroma wafted over. A small circle of people, mostly children, had gathered in front of them.

It's a sugar-blowing stall.

The stall owner sat on a small stool with a small charcoal stove at his feet. On the stove sat a small copper pot, inside which thick maltose was simmering, the amber-colored syrup bubbling and bubbling.

The old man held a small ball of candy in his hand, his fingers moving quickly to pinch, pull, and tear it, then he brought it to his lips and blew on it.

The sugar ball immediately swelled up, and in the blink of an eye, a proud rooster appeared vividly between his withered fingers.

"I want that monkey!" shouted a snotty-nosed little boy, handing over a crumpled one-cent coin.

The old man didn't say anything, took the money, then pinched up a ball of candy, and a monkey with its hands on its hips gazing into the distance was formed. Finally, he stuck it with a bamboo skewer and handed it over.

The little boy cheered, held it up, and ran away.

The Journey to the West series hasn't been released yet. If it were, it wouldn't be the twelve zodiac monkeys; it would definitely be the Great Sage wielding his golden cudgel.

The water monkey watched with envy, then patted his pocket. His sister had given him some pocket money. "Uncle, blow...blow a mouse for me!"

"Two more, please!" Lin Chuan said with a smile. "What kind of ones do you two want?"

"I want a big rooster."

"I want a piglet."

The old man looked up at him, and the corner of his mouth seemed to twitch as if he were smiling. Soon, three lifelike little animals appeared.

I passed by another stall selling straw crafts. Grasshoppers, dragonflies, and small baskets were all made from cattails commonly found by the river, dyed in various colors, and looked very lifelike.

The water monkey said he could braid this too, but not as well as his; his sister's braids were about the same as the one on the paralyzed side.

Lin Chuan looked around at the bustling scene, his gaze sweeping across the market, when a used book stall caught his eye.

The bookstall was in the corner, with a tattered cloth spread on the ground, on which were piled old books, old magazines, and a stack of comic books tied with hemp rope.

The stall owner was an elderly gentleman wearing glasses, who looked like a retired teacher from the town's school. He was looking down at a thick book that had lost its cover.

Lin Chuan squatted down and rummaged through the pile.

Most of them were outdated textbooks, "Selected Works of Mao Zedong," and "The Barefoot Doctor's Manual," etc.

There's also "Soil Science," and a dozen pages less of "Common Sense on Agricultural Machinery Maintenance."

"Sir, how much are these two books?" Lin Chuan asked.

The old man looked up from the book, adjusted his glasses, and glanced at the book: "Oh, these two! One dollar, take them both."

Lin Chuan readily pulled out a dollar. The old man took the money, examined it carefully, put it in his pocket, and went back to reading his book.

Lin Chuan put the book into his cloth bag, and when he turned his head, he saw Liang Wenwu squatting to the side, holding a small comic book with a colorful cover, engrossed in reading it.

Lin Chuan walked over and caught a glimpse of the book's title: "Little Smarty's Journey to the Future." The illustrations showed strangely shaped cars and airplanes.

"You like it?" Lin Chuan asked with a smile.

Liang Wenwu was startled. He looked up, his face flushed, and he instinctively wanted to hide the book but couldn't bear to.

He whispered, "Hmm, it says here that in the future there will be cars that can fly in the sky, and phones that can see people..."

Lin Chuan smiled and asked the stall owner, "How much is this comic book?"

"Twelve cents."

Lin Chuan paid, took the book, and handed it to Liang Wenwu: "It's yours."

Liang Wenwu, somewhat embarrassed, said, "Brother Xiao Chuan, thank you."

"No need to thank me, take it and read it carefully. In the future, you'll be able to see people on the phone." Lin Chuan shoved the book into his hand with a smile.

Liang Wenwu held the thin comic book, smiled happily, and gave a heavy "hmm".