Chapter 19: The Border Town’s Coal Fire, Trading Glass for Sheep (Please Vote, Please Vote)

The truck, fully loaded with eggs, ducks, and local produce from central Hebei, rumbled back toward City 49. The thick yellow mud caking the tires hadn’t yet dried when a new assignment was already pressed onto He Yuzhu’s desk.

“Northeast forest region?” Ma Hua studied the destination listed on the introduction letter: “Heihe Forestry Bureau.” He scratched his head. “Boss, this trip’s quite far—almost near the Russians, right? What are we buying, timber?”

“We have specialized channels for timber; that’s not our part.” He Yuzhu flicked the assignment sheet. “Winter’s coming. Every workshop needs coal for their stoves, the bathhouse, and heating for the residential area. The usual coal supply isn’t enough.”

“The logistics department contacted Heihe about some off-plan ‘coal gangue mixed lump coal.’ It’s lower in calorific value but cheap and abundant. They want us to haul it back as an emergency reserve.”

“Coal gangue?” Ma Hua grinned wryly. “That stuff smokes like crazy and produces a lot of ash—not easy to burn.”

“Better than freezing, at least.” He Yuzhu rolled open a map. “Pack your things. This will be a long trip, so bring extra rations and spare parts. Also...” He paused. “Take along two bags of the daylily and vermicelli that Secretary Wang from Qingyuan gave us last time.”

Ma Hua frowned. “Why bring those?”

“You can’t be too polite.” He Yuzhu didn’t elaborate. From the check-in information, there was a vague mention that some parts of the Northeast forestry region were even more short on supplies, especially fine rations.

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The wheels rolled onto the national highway again, heading northeast.

The farther north they went, the harsher the wind became. The white birch trees lining the road had shed all their leaves, their bare branches stabbing the gray, overcast sky. Occasionally, a steam locomotive puffing thick black smoke would roar past, dragging a long line of raw logs.

On the evening of the third day, the truck finally strained into a small forestry station under the Heihe Forestry Bureau.

The station was modest—a few rows of red brick buildings with chimneys belching thick smoke. The air was sharp with the mingled scent of pine resin and coal smoke.

They were greeted by Old Zheng, the supply and marketing section chief, bundled in a thick cotton jacket, his face red from the cold, speaking with a heavy Northeastern accent: “Comrades from Hongxing Steelworks, you must be tired. The coal is at Stockpile No. 3. There’s quite a bit of gangue mixed in, but I guarantee it’s burnable lump coal! Price as per the telegram, cash settlement is fine!”

He Yuzhu handed over the introduction letter and some cigarettes. “Chief Zheng, we trust the station. But since we’ve come so far, we’d like to ask—do the workers here or nearby villagers have any surplus mountain goods or local specialties they want to trade? We brought some white flour, dried noodles, and a bit of dried goods from central Hebei.” He motioned for Ma Hua to open the sack.

Old Zheng’s eyes scanned the bright white flour and daylilies. His Adam’s apple bobbed noticeably, and his smile grew more genuine. “Ah! That’s good stuff! Around here in the winter, it’s just radishes, potatoes, and cabbage—tastes like nothing! Mountain goods… we’ve got some!” He lowered his voice. “By the riverside villages, the Oroqen brothers sometimes hunt roe deer and wild chickens. They smoke the meat and sneak it out to trade for food. And river fish, frozen hard as rock! You want some?”

“Absolutely!” He Yuzhu was straightforward. “At market price, or with white flour for trade. Can you help arrange that?”

“Done! Leave it to me!” Old Zheng patted his chest. “After we load the coal tomorrow, I’ll take you to those riverside villages!”

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Stockpile No. 3. The coal pile rose like a black mountain, interspersed with many gray-white gangue chunks.

Ma Hua led the forestry workers in loading the coal, while He Yuzhu circled the pile, picking up a few pieces to examine, then kicked the base of the heap, frowning slightly.

“Chief Zheng,” he called to the overseer, “is there a frozen soil layer underneath this coal pile?”

Old Zheng was startled. “Oh my, Group Leader He, your eyes are sharp! Recently, melting snow seeped down, so the bottom froze a bit. We’re prying it loose with steel bars right now. It won’t delay loading!”

He Yuzhu shook his head. “Frozen soil mixed in at the bottom will get loaded with the coal. It burns poorly and produces more ash.” He pointed to a worn conveyor belt frame piled nearby. “Let’s borrow this and find some thick wooden boards.”

Old Zheng was puzzled. He Yuzhu directed the workers to set the iron frame diagonally midway up the coal pile and lay the wooden boards over it, forming a makeshift chute.

He climbed up the coal heap himself and shoveled the top layer of coal onto the chute. The loose lump coal slid down directly into the truck bed. Meanwhile, the frozen soil clods and much of the gangue stayed behind.

“Loading it this way,” He Yuzhu jumped down and brushed coal dust from his hands, “the coal we haul will be good for burning. The frozen soil and gangue can wait until spring to be dealt with. It won’t hold up the station’s work, and the coal we bring back will burn well.”

Old Zheng and the workers stared, mouths agape! Such a clever method saved effort and sorted out good coal! Several veteran workers grinned broadly. “This comrade knows his stuff!”

Old Zheng took a long drag on his cigarette and gave He Yuzhu a thumbs-up. “Group Leader He, you’re particular!”

Loading efficiency soared, and the coal quality was assured.

True to his word, Old Zheng personally led them the next day. The truck drove along a frozen tributary of the Heilongjiang River into a small village called Kaoshan Tun.

The village was small, with wooden log houses capped with thick snow.

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Hearing that there was food for trade, the village chief and a few Oroqen men wearing roe deer skin jackets quickly gathered around. They offered dried roe deer meat, air-dried wild chicken, frozen river fish strung on willow twigs... and even whole lynx pelts.

Cash was rarely used in the deal. The white flour and dried goods He Yuzhu brought became hard currency, especially a bag of golden daylilies, which an Oroqen grandmother treasured and traded for, saying she would cook soup for her sick little grandson.

Two sacks of white flour and dried goods were exchanged for half a truck bed of mountain delicacies and two prime lynx pelts.

Just before leaving, the village chief brought over a jar and removed the mud seal. A strong sour-sweet aroma drifted out. “Comrade, this is jam made from the wild mountain blueberries we picked ourselves! It’s nothing special, but take it along for the road!”

He Yuzhu thanked him and accepted it. As the truck pulled away from Kaoshan Tun, the village chief and the men waved from the snowy ground in the rearview mirror.

“Boss, this trip was worth it!” Ma Hua excitedly looked at their haul in the truck bed. “Coal secured, plus all these good things! These pelts are really thick!”

He Yuzhu unscrewed his military water bottle and took a sip of the icy tea. “Living off the mountain when you’re near it, living off the water when you’re close by. We procurement folks can’t just fixate on the numbers in the plan book. Some things—you can’t buy with money or tickets; you have to trade the right stuff.”

A few days later, the truck, dragging a heavy coal cart and loaded with mountain goods, rolled over the snow-white border and set off on the return journey.

Outside the window stretched endless forests and snowy plains. Occasionally, a border militia rider wrapped in a cotton hat galloped by on horseback.

He Yuzhu leaned against the window, gazing at the vast, desolate world outside.

This time, the system had not prompted a check-in. He was somewhat surprised; previously, every new place triggered a check-in.

The wheels rolled on, kicking up snow spray. Perhaps the next stop would be to sample rice from the south or sheep from the west?