Chapter 110: Tires Are Out of Stock

May 8, 1982, morning.

Zhao Hu arrived at Liu Dongju’s house early in the morning with masons Zhao Biao, Zhao Jianzhong, and others. Seeing carpenters Nie Quan, Nie Sun, and Zhao Long already there under the pomelo tree, eating breakfast on low stools, he couldn't help but smile.

Just as he was about to check the kitchen, Liu Xing walked out holding a yellowed wall calendar, a smile on his face. "Good morning, everyone!"

"Morning!" Zhao Xiao greeted him with a grin.

Zhao Biao reached out and patted Liu Xing on the shoulder before heading to the kitchen with Zhao Jianzhong, who was also smiling.

Zhao Hu didn’t leave immediately; he was captivated by the architectural design drawn on the calendar. "Liu Xing, did you draw this last night?"

"Yes," Liu Xing nodded. He had initially thought it would be easy, but it took him four or five hours to complete, leaving him almost no time to sleep.

"Let me take a look." Zhao Hu took the calendar and studied it for a moment, his eyes gradually brightening. "Excellent design! How did I never think of building a house this way before?"

"Especially this roof—by covering it with these tile battens, you’ve completely solved the issue of leaks! No, it’s impossible for any leaks to occur." Zhao Hu grew more excited as he spoke, eventually forgetting his breakfast entirely.

"It’s alright, I suppose. Study it slowly for now." Seeing the surprise in Zhao Hu’s eyes, Liu Xing didn’t want to disturb him. He smiled and went off to attend to his own business.

The first step was to buy cement and materials like tile battens. However, this became a headache. After scouring the local market, he found only one shop selling cement, and they insisted on seeing official purchase permits. In short, he couldn't buy any, even with money. This nearly infuriated Liu Xing.

When he returned, planning to borrow a bicycle from Zhao Hu to check the city markets, he discovered the problem had already been solved. Zhao Hu had sent Zhao Dongkui to drag a cart of yellow clay from the village’s west mountain, a large cart of sand from the riverside, and the leftover lime from Zhao Jianzhong’s house. Mixed together, it created an excellent mortar. While not as structurally sound as cement, it was a perfectly capable substitute—and far better than using plain yellow clay for masonry.

Seeing the problem resolved, Liu Xing didn't interfere further and headed out to herd the cattle with Guazi and Xiao Budian.

By the time he returned, it was noon. The scent of cooking wafted from the kitchen, accompanied by the voices of Village Chief Zhao and Xie Zhongquan. Curious but not wishing to eavesdrop, Liu Xing headed to the backyard to wash his feet. There was no helping it; the muddy paths and field ridges made it impossible to keep his feet clean.

To his surprise, as soon as he stepped into the backyard, he saw his mother, Zhou Qiuxiang. She was sweeping the walkway under the eaves. Seeing him, she hurried over. "You boy, your sister's house is swamped right now—how do you have the time to take Guazi and the little ones out herding cattle?"

"I’ve already arranged everything. If I don't herd the cattle, do you want me to lay bricks?" Liu Xing chuckled. "What about you? Why are you here all of a sudden?"

"I came to tell you something and deliver the finished shoes." Zhou Qiuxiang pointed to a pair of baskets under the eaves. "There are 120 pairs here. Keep them safe; don't let any thieves get them."

"What do you mean by that? It sounds like we’ve had burglars lately," Liu Xing joked.

"We actually did," Zhou Qiuxiang sighed. "If it weren't for your younger brother being sharp, the money I kept in the wardrobe would have been stolen."

"No way?" Liu Xing was shocked. It was true that fame invited trouble; he had only just started making a bit of money, and thieves were already eyeing him.

"It shouldn't happen again, though," Zhou Qiuxiang said with a smile. "Besides telling you that, I wanted to say that Huang Xiao, the tractor driver, brought five more loads of old tires. I paid him, but he said he won't be bringing any more in the future."

"Why?" Liu Xing asked, puzzled. If he had no old tires, what would he use to make shoes?

"He said he has cleared out all the old tires in the city and can't find any more," she replied.

"I see." Liu Xing nodded slowly. It was a realistic problem he had anticipated, though he hadn't expected the supply to run dry so quickly. This meant he had to solve the material supply issue immediately, or else his shoe business would fold. He wasn't in immediate danger, though; a tractor-load of tires could make plenty of shoes, and he had at least a month or two of stock left—plenty of time to find a solution.

Seeing Liu Dongju calling everyone for lunch, Zhou Qiuxiang brushed the grass off Liu Xing’s clothes. "Don't worry too much. When you reach the bridge, the boat will naturally straighten its course. If we really run out of tires, we can switch to something else. You've already made your money."

"It's not as bad as you make it sound," Liu Xing smiled.

"I don't believe you." Not wanting to argue, Zhou Qiuxiang led him out of the backyard. "By the way, your aunt introduced three more people to help make shoes. They looked hardworking, so I took the liberty of keeping them on."

"Oh!" Liu Xing nodded. That explained why the 120 pairs had been finished so quickly.

"What 'oh'? Are you agreeing or not?" she asked, turning back.

"Isn't it obvious? Of course I agree," Liu Xing said, laughing despite himself.

"That's more like it. Let me tell you, many young wives in the village want to learn how to make these shoes—at least thirty of them—but I turned most of them away," she revealed with a smile.

Liu Xing was surprised, but he quickly calmed down. His pay was generous and the meals were good; it was perfectly natural for the villagers to be envious. It was a sign of growth, though it was a pity the material supply had hit a bottleneck. Otherwise, he could have expanded and made even more money. For now, he put it aside; finishing the house was the priority.

Seeing everyone at the wooden table waiting for him and his mother, he hurried over to join them.

...

With Liu Xing’s blueprints, the construction of the single-story house by Zhao Hu, Zhao Biao, Zhao Jianzhong, the Village Chief, and the others proceeded rapidly. By five o'clock that afternoon, the walls were two meters high, and the wooden windows had been installed.

Liu Xing had originally considered leaving the window openings empty to install modern, future-style windows later, but he decided against it. He didn't have the energy to fuss over such minor details.

Time flew to two o'clock the next afternoon—May 9th. The roof was being tiled. Zhao Hu, sitting on a crossbeam to lay the tiles, asked Zhao Dongkui, who was busy on the ground, "You're about to finish the roof. Shouldn't you prepare a few tables to invite your relatives over for a celebration?"

"It’s just a rebuild of an old house. Why celebrate?" Zhao Dongkui said with an embarrassed laugh.

"Who says you shouldn't?" The Village Chief glared at him. "Your house is the most impressive in the entire market now, built entirely with high-quality bricks. If you don't host a banquet, how can you justify the money Liu Xing spent on you?"

"This..." Zhao Dongkui looked toward the kitchen door at Liu Dongju, who was cleaning vegetables.

"Don't look at me. It's your decision," Liu Dongju replied after a moment's hesitation. She wanted to give her own opinion, but for the sake of her husband's pride, she swallowed her words.

"I’ll go talk to Liu Xing." Zhao Dongkui, acting wiser this time, dusted himself off and ran to the backyard.

A moment later, he returned, beaming.

"Well?" asked the Village Chief.

"Liu Xing said it's my business and I should make the call myself," Zhao Dongkui replied.

"So, are you hosting the banquet or not?" The Village Chief was getting impatient. This Zhao Dongkui was giving an answer that meant nothing at all.