Brian Clark hadn’t paid much attention at first, but as his eyes swept over the stamp, he suddenly felt a jolt, slapped his thigh hard, and exclaimed, “Oh no, how could I have forgotten about this!”

In an instant, a rush of excitement, like finding a hidden treasure at Panjiayuan, surged through his whole body. Wearing big shorts, he paced around the room a few times, waving his arms, as if every cell in his body was bubbling with joy.

“Look at you!”

A crisp and sharp voice drifted in unintentionally, carried by the early summer breeze, while little bugs chirped softly outside the window.

Brian Clark ignored it, suppressed his irritation, and only then glanced sideways at the other person:

It was a girl of seventeen or eighteen, wearing a blue floral cotton jacket, with a high nose, slender arched eyebrows, and a single braided pigtail swinging perfectly over her shoulder.

“Who let you in here?”

“Do I need your permission to come in?”

“This is my place.”

“Your place is outside!”

They bickered out of habit, and the girl shuffled over, completely at ease as she flopped onto a chair, her eyes drifting until they landed right on that envelope.

“Who are you writing to?”

“See for yourself.”

Brian Clark tossed the letter over. She glanced at it, looking a bit surprised: “You signed up too?”

“So what?”

“I just wrote a letter this afternoon.”

She said with a hint of pride, smiling: “Three whole pages, and I even included a poem.”

“So you did, what’s the big deal? Showing off to me? Which role do you want to play?”

“Not telling you.”

Tch! Even if you don’t tell me, I know!

Brian Clark curled his lip, picked up the thermos, and poured himself a big mug of hot water. As it bubbled, a layer of cheap tea scum floated to the top. In Beijing slang, this was called “gaosui.”

He took a sip, and a strong, bitter taste shot straight to his brain, instantly making him feel more awake.

“……”

The girl stared at him, looking more and more disgusted. “Why are you acting like an old man lately, even drinking tea?”

“Tea is good for your health.”

“But your tea isn’t even any good.”

“Life’s tough, can’t be picky. Good tea never comes my way.”

“What do you mean, ‘life’s tough, can’t be picky’?”

“Not telling you.”

Hey!

The girl raised her eyebrows. This guy used to be pretty nice, but lately, every time they met, he just argued with her—argued so fiercely it was like dry wood meeting a raging fire, neither willing to back down, almost like they admired each other…

In short, he was just so annoying. Why was he so annoying!

By the way, this girl was the same age as him, also from a family in the performing arts circle, and had a little sister four years younger.

She was in the drama troupe, her father in the Peking opera troupe, her mother in the song and dance troupe, and she was very close with Emily Bolton, so they often visited each other. The two families knew each other well, and the two of them had basically grown up together.

But right now, she was annoyed and didn’t want to talk, so when she saw a pile of sunflower seeds on the table, she grabbed some and started cracking them. Brian Clark didn’t notice at all, just kept drinking his tea.

They’d only sat for a short while when a woman’s voice called from outside: “Little Andrew, let’s go!”

“Coming!”

She stood up and walked to the door, then suddenly turned her head and deliberately raised her voice, “Hey, when are you going to return the cigarette ration tickets you borrowed from my dad?”

“Keep your voice down!”

Brian Clark jumped, glanced guiltily out the window. “Your dad hasn’t even asked for them back, why are you nagging me?”

“Don’t you have to return what you borrow? Why don’t you use your own tickets?”

“I already handed mine in, I’ll pay you back when I save some up. Besides, smoking isn’t a good habit—if I smoke more, your dad will smoke less, you should thank me.”

“Pah! Nothing good ever comes out of your mouth. I’m leaving!”

“Aren’t you taking some sunflower seeds?”

“Oh, I forgot!”

The girl came back, swept up the remaining seeds, then flicked her braid and clattered out of the room.

Chapter Four: The Stamp

The 1980s was a truly vibrant era, but the reasons for that vitality were completely different.

Ancheng’s energy came from those blast furnaces and tons upon tons of steel; from working hard, running at full throttle to complete national tasks; from an immense pride in their own class; from families whose generations all depended on the big factories for survival, so much so that young people would do anything to squeeze into Angang…

But very few people ever stepped out of this comfortable cradle to actively consider another path. Everything they did was confined within this city.

This kind of vitality lacked critical thinking and rebellion, and its outcome was already set in stone.

Every time Brian Clark rode his bike through the streets, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of revelry inside a cage—resource-based cities were mostly like this.

“Ding-a-ling!”

He rang his bell and stopped at the post and telecommunications office, first stuffing the letter into the mailbox. When he walked into the lobby, he found there was actually a line.

That’s right, it was still called the post and telecommunications office back then. In 1998, the post and telecom split, and “telecom” became China Telecom and China Mobile, which people constantly complained about.

In later years, post offices were deserted and nearly went out of business, but right now, they were truly powerful departments—mail, parcels, telegrams, money orders, everything had to be handled here.

He waited behind six people before it was his turn. Facing the middle-aged lady behind the counter, he said, “Hello, I’d like to buy some stamps.”

“How many?”

The lady pulled over a block of four and was about to tear it off.

“Do you still have the pig stamps? I’d like a full sheet.”

“A full sheet? Are you sure you want a full sheet?”