1983, Northeast China

Chapter 42 Leather Goods Alley

He pulled a small cloth bag from the bottom of the basket, which Chen Xiulan had specifically asked him to bring.

"What the heck?"

"Coarse salt, mugwort leaves, and old ginger." Chen Shi stood up. "My sister asked me to bring these over a couple of days ago. She said Uncle Wei's family should have enough firewood, but she was worried you might not have enough salt."

Old Wei stared at the cloth bag for a while. "...Did Sister Xiulan say that?"

"Yes, she has always been thinking about you, but before, in that situation, she was willing but unable to help."

When Chen Xiulan was mentioned, Lao Wei fell silent. He picked up the cloth bag, weighed it in his hand, and placed it at his feet.

Chen Shi covered the sack back over the sable, and tied a tight knot around the opening of the basket.

He turned back as he reached the door.

Old Wei was still sitting by the fire pit, his right leg stretched out and his left leg bent, his posture a little more relaxed than last time.

"Uncle Wei".

"Um."

"What about the other half?" Chen Shi asked.

After a long while, Old Wei finally said, "...It was lost years ago."

Chen Shi didn't ask any more questions.

Old Wei pointed out the way, and he had to hurry. The sun was already high outside, and he needed to walk fast to catch the bus to the county town.

After leaving Lao Wei's place, Chen Shi walked quickly, and luckily, he arrived just as soon as he did. Old Zhou, the driver of the cart, came running up behind him.

Chen Shi put the leather into an old cloth bag and sat down on the edge of the cart.

"Going to the city?" Old Zhou always had a smile on his face when someone was getting into the car.

"Let's go buy something."

"Oh." Old Zhou didn't ask any more questions.

When people from the village go to the city, it's mostly for these kinds of things: cotton, brown sugar, milk powder coupons, and so on.

There were two other people in the car.

One of them was an old lady from Laoyushugou, who said she was going to visit her daughter. The old lady was very friendly with everyone, and the whole way she talked about nothing but trivial things from her daughter's family...

One of them was an accountant from the commune's supply and marketing cooperative. He carried a black leather bag and pulled his hat down to cover his face and sleep as soon as he got on the bus.

Chen Shi chose a corner at the back, leaning against the side of the carriage, with his cloth bag on his lap.

As soon as the car started moving, his eyes were half-closed.

After listening to Old Zhou and Old Lady's conversation all the way, I basically learned half of her daughter's life story.

The county town was reached quickly.

At the entrance to the city stands a cement archway, its red paint patched up and then peeled off, but the five characters "Serve the People" remain.

Two men wearing red armbands were squatting under the archway. They glanced at the truck but didn't stop it.

Every day, there are people driving carts into the city; they are all familiar faces.

Old Zhou nodded to the two men wearing armbands and drove the cart into the city.

Chen Shi got off the bus on the street near the bus station.

There weren't many people on the street, but it was more lively than in the village.

A line of elderly women stood outside the supply and marketing cooperative, holding enamel basins, waiting for it to open.

A row of egg vendors squatted at the base of the wall, their eggs placed in nests made from cotton trouser legs.

Further on, there was a barber's pole set up against the wall. The barber was shivering and had a disgusted expression on his face. He probably hadn't had any business all morning.

Following Lao Wei's instructions, Chen Shi went around to the narrow street behind the bus station.

Pihuo Hutong (Pihuo Alley).

Old Wei made it sound simple, but the alley was hard to find; he couldn't find it at first.

I asked several people, and they all said they didn't know it and had never heard of the place.

Later, they asked an old man pulling a cart, who pointed west and said, "If you're looking for leather goods, turn after that public toilet."

Chen Shi thanked them and headed towards the public toilet.

Before we even reached the public restroom, a strong stench hit us.

Turn right, and an even narrower alley appears. There's no sign at the alley entrance, most of the plaster has peeled off the walls, and a few broken baskets are leaning against the wall.

The smell changed once you entered the alley.

The raw skin smells fishy, ​​the salted skin smells sour; the smell in the alley seems to have been accumulated over decades, even permeating the walls.

Chen Shi walked slowly, looking for the shop that Lao Wei had mentioned.

Half a piece of old deerskin hung by the door. The edges of the deerskin were curled up by the wind, and its color had turned yellowish-black, making it impossible to tell what it originally looked like; only half remained. The hook hanging below it was iron, and it was rusted.

What Lao Wei said matches up.

Just looking at the curtain, Chen Shi thought the shop was closed. But when he looked at the footprints at the door, both new and old, it meant that people still came often.

Only then did he lift the curtain and go inside.

It was darker inside than outside.

Upon entering, there is a small main room with a long cabinet against the wall, covered with an old felt cloth.

There was a person sitting behind the cabinet. The room was dark, so it was hard to tell how old he was. All I could see was that he was very thin and hunched over.

Seeing Chen Shi enter, he didn't look up, as if he had just woken up, and asked, "What are you looking at?"

"Look at the leather."

"What kind of leather?"

"I caught it on the mountain and wanted someone knowledgeable to take a look at it," Chen Shi said.

Old Nian raised his head, glanced at Chen Shi through his nostrils from under the brim of his hat, and then at the bulging cloth bag in Chen Shi's arms.

"From the village?"

"Um."

Which village?

Chen Shi didn't say anything, and Lao Nian didn't seem to mind, just smiled.

Old Nian tapped his unlit cigarette on the table. "If you don't want to talk, then don't. Everyone from the village has a temper. Where's the stuff?"

Chen Shi exposed half of a copper cigarette holder and placed it on the counter.

The old man's head, which had been held high, immediately lowered.

He put down the unlit cigarette in his hand and picked up the broken copper cigarette holder.

The purpose is clear: just flip it over and look at the break.

Old Nian put the cigarette holder back on the table. "Where's the stuff?"

This time, his tone of voice was completely different from before.

Chen Shi placed the cloth bag on the cabinet and peeled it open layer by layer.

The sable landed on the old felt cloth.

The dim light in the room shone on the fur, making the silver sheen on its back less bright and instead appear heavier.

Old Nian first pushed his hat up, revealing his face underneath. Half of his left eyelid was drooping down, a result of an injury from his early years, while his right eye was bright.

He pulled out a pair of reading glasses from under the cabinet and hung them on the bridge of his nose.

He blew a breath toward the silver light on his back. The underpile parted to the sides, revealing the velvet underneath.

Old Nian squinted his right eye.

He blew another puff of air towards the pale yellow tinge below his throat. The underfur separated again.

He turned the skin over again, looked at the belly side, and ran his fingers along the skin from head to tail, then back again.

Then he lifted a small tuft of the underfur and brought it close to his eyes to look at it.

Finally, he straightened up, took off his reading glasses, and put them back in his pocket.

"Did you hit him?"

"Um."

"What set?"

"A thin steel wire loop. A deerskin rope underneath."

Old Nian looked at him: "Who taught you that?"

Chen Shi did not understand the purpose of his question and did not answer.

Old Nian chuckled again. This time, there was something else in that chuckle. "What's your name?"

"Chen Shi".

Old Nian stared intently, pointed at him with one finger, and tapped it twice, "Chen..."

"Chen Mancang is my father." Chen Shi knew what he was going to ask, so he said it directly.

Old Nian slowly, very slowly, withdrew his hand from the counter and pulled his old cotton hat down to cover half of his face.

"Did you come here today because you wanted to, or was someone else directing you?"

Chen Shi thought about it for a moment, and since there was nothing to hide, he told the truth, "Old Wei pointed it out."

Beneath the sparse beard, a hum was heard, its tone unreadable as either laughter or a sigh, "Old Wei's leg, can he still walk?"

"I can walk. It's better than last time."

"oh."

With an "oh," Old Nian didn't ask any more questions. He examined the pelt again and said, "First-class quality, no tears in the throat, no scratches on the four paws, and dense fur on the bottom. I haven't seen this quality in my shop in the last two years."

Lao Nian gave the first number.

Chen Shi was secretly pleased; it was higher than he had expected.