Chapter 2: An Era at the Eye of the Storm

Chapter 2: On the Crest of the Wave

"Alright," Chen Jianghai said with a smile as he took the radio and asked the old man for a screwdriver.

He first opened the battery compartment, noting that the batteries were still quite new and likely had charge left. Next, he inspected the interior and quickly spotted the issue: the internal antenna had come loose. Fixing this was easy and didn't even require any new parts.

"Sir, do you have any aluminum sheets at home?" Chen Jianghai asked.

"Aluminum sheets? I’m afraid not," the old man replied after a moment’s pause.

"What about a Jianlibao can?"

"Yes, I have one."

"And a soldering iron?"

"The neighbor has one. I’ll go borrow it."

Taking the Jianlibao can, Chen Jianghai looked at the label with a sense of nostalgia—soon, this drink would no longer be available. Though it would briefly reappear later, the taste would never be the same.

After borrowing a pair of scissors, Chen Jianghai cut two small pieces of aluminum from the can. He opened up the radio, replaced the two small aluminum pieces that connected the antenna, and reassembled it.

Soon, the radio crackled to life.

Turning the antenna and adjusting the frequency, Chen Jianghai found a channel.

"On August 19th, Beyond will hold a concert at the Red Pavilion..."

Though the sound was not entirely clear and static persisted, the old man listened with delight.

"How is it, sir? All fixed?" Chen Jianghai asked with a grin.

The old man, delighted, handed over a one-yuan note. "Well done, young man. Here you go."

Chen Jianghai accepted the money, clutching it tightly. This was, after all, the first money he had earned since his rebirth—a significant milestone.

"By the way, young man, my TV has a problem too. Can you fix it?" the old man suddenly inquired, a hint of hope in his eyes.

"Let me take a look first," Chen Jianghai replied cautiously, raising his brows at the old man's apparent affluence.

The old man led him inside, where a black-and-white television sat atop a wardrobe, covered by a thick patterned cloth.

"Sir, it’s not a good idea to put cloth on top of the TV," Chen Jianghai advised kindly.

"Isn’t it just to keep off the dust?" the old man explained.

Chen Jianghai grinned. "Well, the TV relies on the vents at the back for cooling. If you cover them all up, it can’t dissipate heat properly and will age faster."

"Alright, I’ll take it off now," the old man said, clearly convinced of Chen Jianghai’s expertise. He promptly removed the cloth.

He then plugged in the TV and turned it on. A bright vertical line appeared on the right side of the screen.

"This line doesn’t stop us from watching, but it’s annoying," the old man explained with a sigh.

With his experience, Chen Jianghai instantly thought of three possible causes for the fault. But to be sure, he needed to open the set and check.

Quickly removing the back cover, he soon found the culprit: a solder joint had come loose. With the borrowed soldering iron still on hand, the fix was straightforward.

"Sir, the price for fixing a TV isn’t the same as for a radio," Chen Jianghai said knowingly.

The old man, shrewd and observant, had watched him closely and now, seeing Chen Jianghai’s skill, agreed readily. "Name your price, young man!"

"Five yuan," Chen Jianghai said, holding up a hand—direct and decisive.

The old man did not haggle and agreed on the spot.

A few minutes later, Chen Jianghai had resoldered all the suspicious joints and turned the TV back on. The bright line was gone, the screen restored to normal.

On the television, an adaptation of "Moment in Peking" starring Zhao Yazhi was playing. Chen Jianghai glanced at it but felt no interest; after having seen future LCD rear-projection TVs, these black-and-white sets held little allure.

"You’re really something!" the old man exclaimed, giving him a thumbs-up in sincere admiration.

Chen Jianghai grinned. "Sir, if your friends or family have trouble with their appliances, just come to me. My name is Chen Jianghai, and I promise fair prices."

"Absolutely!" the old man replied with a broad smile, overjoyed at his working TV.

Just as Chen Jianghai was about to leave, the old man called out again.

"By the way, Xiao Chen, I have an old radio here. Can you fix it?"

"Let me have a look," Chen Jianghai replied, already guessing the old man’s intent.

The old man fetched a battered radio, heavily rusted in spots.

"It’s been broken for years. Can you fix it?" he asked with a chuckle.

Chen Jianghai examined it, then shook his head. "Fixing this would take a lot of parts. Honestly, you’d be better off buying a new one."

The old man looked disappointed.

Suddenly, Chen Jianghai said, "Sir, I can buy this one from you if you want to sell."

"How much?" the old man asked instinctively.

"Two yuan," Chen Jianghai offered, holding up two fingers.

"That’s too little!" The old man was clearly reluctant.

"It’s just that I haven’t seen this brand before," Chen Jianghai replied. "I want to take it apart and see how it’s put together. If that doesn’t work for you, that’s fine."

The old man, who had been hesitating, quickly relented. "No, no, take it for two yuan!"

A broken radio like that would fetch no more than fifty cents as scrap. Selling it for two yuan was a no-brainer.

Chen Jianghai paid cheerfully and left with the old radio in hand.

"Sir, if you or your friends ever need appliances fixed or want to sell any old ones, just look for me. I’m always around here, my prices are low, and if I can’t fix it, you don’t pay."

Looking at the radio in his hands, Chen Jianghai couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction.

Who wouldn’t be happy?

He’d fixed the old man’s radio and earned a yuan, repaired his TV for five more, and then spent two yuan to buy the old man’s dilapidated radio.

All in all, he’d bought the old man’s equipment with the old man’s money.

A pure profit, inside and out.

The value of skill!

Skill changes one’s fate!

Chen Jianghai understood very well that in this era, if he wanted to make money, relying on technical know-how was his best bet.

Repair work could earn money, but it was simply too slow.

Now, with the reforms and opening up, individual business was allowed to flourish. Many households had broken or old appliances lying around—he could collect them, disassemble and refurbish them, then resell them.

He didn’t know about other places, but at least in Linghai, nobody else was doing this business. He’d be the sole operator—a monopoly.

Anyone from the future would know how lucrative a monopoly could be.

Carrying the radio, Chen Jianghai headed to the Yangqiaokou market, eager to buy some groceries and cook a good meal.

In his previous life, his wife Lin Wanqiu had never once tasted his cooking before she left this world in despair.

In this life, everything would change, starting with this meal.

"Boss, give me two and a half jin of pork," Chen Jianghai called out at the butcher’s stall.

By the 1990s, rationing and limited supplies were fading into history. If you had money, you could buy meat and grain.

The butcher was momentarily surprised; most customers bought either lean or fatty meat, but few asked for five-flower pork.

"It’s a little over two jin, just make it three yuan," the butcher said, cutting and weighing the meat before skillfully tying it up with string.

Hearing the price, Chen Jianghai couldn’t help but marvel inwardly. People today could scarcely imagine pork selling for only one and a half yuan per jin!

More than twenty years later, it would cost at least twenty or thirty yuan per jin—nearly twenty times higher.

The sad part was that wages had barely increased, nowhere near keeping up with the soaring cost of living.

In his previous life, Chen Jianghai had failed to cherish those close to him or put in solid effort, ending up with nothing and no one.

This time, he was determined to live differently—to embark on an entirely new life.

(End of this chapter)