Chapter 00002: I Don’t Want to Dump the Chamber Pot
# I Don’t Want to Dump the Chamber Pot
Chapter 2
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 2: I Don’t Want to Dump the Chamber Pot
Every speck of dust from the era falls on an individual’s head like a sharp sickle.
The meeting ended, and the crowd, no longer as urgent or crowded as when they entered, flowed out like water with low pressure—slow and stagnant.
They had spent their best years in the countryside, enduring hardship, and now returned to the city with no jobs.
Each face bore confusion and worry, unsure of what the future held.
Huang Zhanying also fell silent, wobbling on his bike.
After a while, he asked, “What kind of jobs do you think we’ll get assigned to?”
“No idea.”
“Aren’t you worried at all?”
“Didn’t they say the neighborhood committee will visit? Just wait at home, and we’ll find out then.”
“…”
Huang Zhanying stared at him without blinking, then suddenly said, “I’ve noticed you’ve been acting really strange lately. You used to wear your heart on your sleeve, but now you seem so carefree.”
“I’m 19 now. Isn’t it time to mature a bit? Isn’t it better to be easygoing?”
Chen Qi brushed it off casually and said, “I’m heading to the bookstore. You coming?”
“No, I’ll go ask around and see what else I can find out.”
“Alright, I’m off then!”
He waved, pedaled hard, and his bike sped off like a bolt of lightning back to Dashilan.
Dashilan, stretching less than 300 meters from east to west, was home to the finest things in the capital—Donglaishun hotpot, Tongrentang pharmacy, Neiliansheng cloth shoes, Ruifuxiang silk, Zhangyiyuan tea, Liubiju pickles, Daguanlou cinema, Tianhuizhai snuff, and more.
However, during the tides of history, these old brands had all been renamed, though they were slowly being restored.
Among them, there was also a theater called Guangdelou, where years later, a man named Guo Degang would perform.
The Xinhua Bookstore was also in Dashilan, just a hundred meters from Menkuang Hutong, making it a short commute from home.
The main Xinhua Bookstore was a state-owned enterprise at the bureau level, with branches in cities, districts, and counties acting as subsidiaries.
Chen Qi parked his bike and went inside.
The store was crowded, with people browsing the shelves of social science books.
A few years ago, bookstores were only allowed to sell nine categories of books, six of which were works by revolutionary leaders.
After the National Science Conference in 1978, social science books gradually became more available.
Honestly, what was so interesting about them? Yet people devoured them like starving wolves.
A young girl was engrossed in a Geographical Atlas, while an elderly man who looked like an intellectual was reading an English edition of Travels in China.
Some fiction magazines were even more popular, with people flocking to them like Gorky to bread…
Chen Qi tiptoed behind a woman and suddenly shouted, “Mom!”
“Good heavens! You scared me to death, you brat!”
The woman turned around.
In her forties, she was still slim and graceful—his mother, Yu Xiuli.
“The meeting’s over?”
“Yeah.”
“Come here…”
She pulled Chen Qi outside to a corner and asked, “What did they say?”
“From what I gathered, the focus is on collective cooperatives to employ us unemployed youth.”
“Collective cooperatives? That’s no good…”
Yu Xiuli frowned. “We also got a notice saying children can take over their parents’ jobs. Your dad’s always out as a salesman, and I’m stable at the store. Maybe I should retire early to free up a spot for you.”
“You’re only in your forties. Why retire so early? To dance in the square with the old ladies?”
“What dance?”
“Anyway, don’t worry about me. I’ll manage.”
“Manage my foot! Collective units are looked down on, pay less, and it’ll be hard to find a partner later.”
“But I’m handsome. Finding a partner won’t be a problem!”
He said it with such confidence that Yu Xiuli couldn’t help but agree.
After all, her son was handsome.
“Alright, let’s not talk about this now. We’ll discuss it tonight…”
Chen Qi didn’t want to argue further and changed the subject. “Mom, that Geographical Atlas looks good. Can you buy it for me? I’ll read it at home.”
“All you do is read useless books!”
Yu Xiuli scolded but went back into the store.
Soon, she came out with the Geographical Atlas and instructed, “Don’t wander off when you get home. Wait for your dad to come back tonight, and we’ll talk properly.”
…………
The large courtyard housed seven inner courtyards.
Chen Qi’s family lived in one of them, in a 20-square-meter space.
His parents slept in the inner room, while he had a bed set up in the outer room.
There was no kang (heated bed).
In winter, they burned honeycomb briquettes for warmth, and power outages were frequent.
Bathing was either done at a public bathhouse or at home, which was a hassle—requiring three pots of hot water, one for each person.
One person would bathe in a large tub inside, while the other two waited outside.
The toilet was also communal.
Every household had a chamber pot for nighttime use, which had to be emptied at the public toilet in the morning—even Wang Fei had done this, proving she’d been up at night, huh.
The Xinhua Bookstore was a decent workplace, but it couldn’t compare to large factories, where workers were the envy of all, with cradle-to-grave benefits.
Chen Qi’s family of three had both parents working, bringing in a combined monthly income of about 100 yuan, so they had no financial pressure.
Some colleagues had elderly parents and three or four kids to support—now that was tough.
At the time, rice cost 0.19 yuan per jin, pork 0.75 yuan per jin, and cabbage 0.03 yuan per jin… The real issue was the shortage of supplies.
Everything required ration coupons—without them, even money couldn’t buy you anything.
Enough about the coupons.
It was already noon.
The sunlight finally broke through the gray-yellow clouds, casting a spring-like glow into the room.
Chen Qi sat at the table, idly flipping through the Geographical Atlas, which introduced many of the country’s famous mountains, rivers, and landscapes.
What was discussed at the meeting left others confused, but he understood it clearly.
They were being sent to collective enterprises—fixing furniture, making clothes, popping popcorn, running canteens—basically, finding some work to do.
This approach made sense.
In 1949, Beijing had 73,000 service outlets, but now only 10,000 remained, while the population had grown, leaving life’s needs far from met.
These unemployed youth could fill the gap, ensuring no one went hungry.
Collective enterprises were created to solve employment issues, though their ownership was always murky, with many historical problems.
But in Beijing, they were still better than being an individual business owner.
The development of individual businesses in the capital was relatively slow, with the real boom starting the following year.
Others might reject collective enterprises, but Chen Qi didn’t mind.
It was just a temporary stop for him.
As for long-term plans, in the early days of reform and opening up, there were only a few paths:
Either play the intellectual and dabble in scar literature, find a stable job and coast, head south to become a trader and get rich quick, or dive into the film industry to chase stars like Gong Xue, Zhu Lin, Li Jianqun, Tao Huimin, He Qing, Chen Hong, Lin Fangbing…
Of course, he’d stick to what he was good at.
“Honestly, this is a topsy-turvy era full of opportunities… but that’s all too far off. First, I need to get out of this crummy hutong. I don’t want to dump chamber pots anymore.”
With his mind made up, Chen Qi felt a sense of relief.
He flipped through the atlas again and landed on a page showcasing a stunning, majestic landscape.
“Mount Lu?”
He chuckled and nodded. “A natural immortal’s cave, with boundless beauty at the perilous peak… Mount Lu is a great place!”
(Hello again, comrades! It’s been months, and I’ve missed you all.
New book, new journey—your support means everything!
During the new book period, two chapters a day…)
(End of Chapter)