Chapter 2 (1/2)

”No,” the woman answered bluntly.

Huang Xuan was stunned. He didn't know that personal exchanges of goods were forbidden during this age. Everything, including grain coupons and yarn, was supposed to be bought in state-owned stores since private sales and trades were considered profiteering. In a severe case, people might even get jailed.

”Could you please help me? I really need them.” Huang Xuan had no choice because all he had was the blanket. He also had a watch, but it would be too much for the stamps. In addition, the brand Vacheron Constantin was way too ahead of the time to be known in 1968. The clerk waved her hand and went on with her knitting, completely ignoring Huang Xuan. Looking at the yarn in her hand, Huang Xuan suddenly thought of something. He handed over the blanket and said, ”This blanket is made of cashmere, much warmer than yarn. My family bought it in Beijing. Look.”

Triggered by the word Beijing, the woman held one corner of the blanket in her fingers, then looked at Huang Xuan dubiously and said, ”Did you steal this from your home?”

”If I had the chance I'd rather steal money.” Seeing a chance, Huang Xuan added, ”Just one set. OK?”

Huang Xuan had already inquired about the price of the blankets in the street the day before. There were only yarn blankets on the market, all of the same specification of 2m*1.5m, 5.5 yuan each. One set of stamps cost 4 yuan, making this exchange a good deal to the people in this town.

Obviously, the clerk was clear about this, but she was still feeling and touching the blanket suspiciously. A long moment later, as n.o.body came inside the building, she finally said: ”All right. I will do you this favor.”

She grabbed the blanket and was going to get the stamps. Huang Xuan said in a hurry, ”Please don't bother. Thanks, but I will get them myself. Could you give me a box please?” Then he started to get the stamps and didn't care about the look on the clerk's face. He thought about how a reckless person could cause the stamps to lose significant value with just one touch. He picked up two sets of stamps cautiously, held them by the margin areas and put them on the counter. He chose the set that he thought was better, much more carefully than when he was carrying his grandpa's fish bowl. He took the box handed over by the sulky clerk and put the stamps inside. Without giving one more look at her, Huang Xuan carried the box carefully and walked out of the post office happily.

What he needed most was a place to hide the stamps. After that, he was going to find the police for help, because in the past 15 years since he was born, the police he had met were all friendly and kind.

Thinking about help, Huang Xuan started to feel hungry again. While he was looking around, he heard the unforgettable gender-neutral voice again: ”Do you want to go home?”

”What do you think?” Huang Xuan shouted and didn't care that shouting in the street might seem suspicious to other people. ”Where are you?”

”Do you want to go home?” asked the voice again, in the same tone.

Huang Xuan tried his best to figure out what the d.a.m.n so-called time machine was doing. He had so many questions which he was too scared to ask.

”Do you want to go home?” The voice sounded like a broken record player.

”Yes, I do,” Huang Xuan answered, walking out of the main street. No matter how much the stamps would be worth in 20 years, he would rather go home.

”OK, I can send you back to P112, but it is going to cost you something.”

Huang Xuan stopped walking and asked, ”What on earth do you want?”