Chapter Seventy: Frenzied Shopping

At the entrance of the school, Liu Yueyu handed the passbook containing ten thousand yuan to Shen Guodong.

“What’s this? You used to refuse to give me any money, and now you trust me to manage it?” Shen Guodong teased, surprised.

She shot him an annoyed glance. “What do you think? Before, you were always scraping money from me—either to gamble or to indulge yourself. How could that compare to now? Besides, keeping so much money with me only earns a bit of interest, which is useless. If you hold it, it’s much more useful!”

Liu Yueyu was right. Money in Shen Guodong’s hands could indeed generate more money. With her, it would just sit in the bank, and the tiny bit of interest was barely worth mentioning. That was unquestionable.

“Do you have more classes this afternoon?” Shen Guodong asked.

“At four, I have another class. I’ll finish around five,” Liu Yueyu replied.

Shen Guodong nodded slightly. “I’ll come pick you up after class.”

She hurriedly said, “No need. You go about your business—I’ll head home myself.”

Yet, under Shen Guodong’s firm insistence, she could only accept. Though she claimed reluctance, her heart brimmed with sweetness, her joy impossible to conceal. What woman doesn’t like to be cherished by her man? Liu Yueyu was no exception. Even her very bones seemed to radiate happiness.

Shen Guodong rode his bicycle to Zhou Meiniang’s rented apartment. The pair planned to buy some furniture and appliances, as well as daily necessities.

In this era, shopping malls didn’t really exist; everything appeared in the form of department stores.

This business model had endured across the land for decades. With the explosive growth of commercial complexes around 2010, many department stores began to fade. Compared to the later malls that combined dining, entertainment, and shopping, the department stores of this time were monotonous and limited in selection—only in this era could they still catch people’s attention.

They arrived at the only Dongbai Department Store in Fengcheng. This store carried the memories of many locals, but after the year 2000, it began its decline.

“It’s hot now, so an electric fan is essential,” Shen Guodong said. For many families, this was the only appliance—cheap and highly practical—so most households would buy one.

Compared to later models, fans from this era were especially noisy. Whenever there was a power outage, the buzzing of the fan upon the electricity’s return was a source of joy—it meant the power was back. Such a lifestyle felt distant to Shen Guodong now.

The fans were large; even adults could reach their fingers inside. As a result, in summer, parents constantly reminded their children not to stick their hands in—a warning uttered again and again.

“What are you thinking about?” Zhou Meiniang asked, curious after seeing him lost in thought.

Shen Guodong shook his head. “How much is a fan?”

“Hello, one is sixty-five yuan. We have a promotion—if you buy two, you get five yuan off,” the saleswoman, dressed in gray, said as she approached.

He considered it. His own home needed a fan too. He bought two at once. The fans of this era were solid and heavy, making it difficult to carry them on a bicycle.

Helpless, Shen Guodong asked, “Do you offer home delivery?”

“Home delivery?” The shop owner seemed puzzled by the question.

Service standards weren’t as advanced as they would be in the future—there was no delivery offered. Yet the owner was shrewd. She could tell Shen Guodong planned to buy more appliances.

She quickly said, “Sir, if you’re buying a fair amount, my husband can deliver them for you. He has a three-wheeled vehicle, runs on gasoline, and can haul goods.”

She wasn’t foolish—putting in some effort to earn more was worthwhile. Labor was cheap.

Her husband had little to do besides hauling goods anyway.

Shen Guodong figured he’d buy several items, and it didn’t matter where—appliance prices were transparent now, so there was no risk of being overcharged.

“Meiniang, see what other appliances you need—let’s buy them all here,” he said, turning to Zhou Meiniang.

She immediately began browsing, soon eyeing a radio. Its price was high—at least two hundred yuan per unit. A color television was also indispensable.

“Sir, you want a color TV?” The shop owner’s eyes widened, astonished.

A color TV cost four thousand yuan. With his buying habits, could he possibly want two? The owner was genuinely shocked. She’d hoped for a bigger sale, but hadn’t expected such a big spender.

Shen Guodong’s purchases in her store added up to nearly ten thousand yuan. And that wasn’t all.

He bought nearly every appliance that could be used. When it came time to settle the bill, even the shop owner was utterly astounded—three thousand five hundred yuan!

For ordinary people, that was several years’ wages. She’d never imagined meeting such a wealthy customer—she was completely taken aback, unable to fathom the situation.

Her expression was one of boundless surprise.

She even closed the store, accompanied Shen Guodong to the nearby postal savings bank, withdrew nine thousand five hundred yuan, and deposited it into her own bank account.

By the time they left the bank, more than an hour had passed. The shop owner still hadn’t recovered, her mind spinning—what a scene this was!

She’d seen big customers before, but Shen Guodong’s shopping was almost insane.

Now she truly understood what it meant to be extravagantly wealthy—he was thorough to the extreme!

Just then, an unpleasant voice rang out.

“Well, well, isn’t that Shen Guodong? Someone like you can actually afford appliances?”