These days, public security really isn’t great—people dare to commit robberies in broad daylight. There’s nothing you can do; there are too many punks in society. You might think this car isn’t much, but to others, it’s a juicy piece of meat—a very fresh one at that.

Around the afternoon, he finally wandered home.

Seeing so many stamps, his parents inevitably started nagging again. Brian Clark had no way to explain, so he just stuffed the stamp album into a drawer and even added a small lock.

Actually, his real target wasn’t “Romance of the Western Chamber” or Marx, nor the chicken or dog stamps, but the monkey stamp issued in 1980.

Speaking of the monkey stamp, it’s truly famous. In later years, a single stamp was speculated to be worth over ten thousand, and a full sheet of a hundred and twenty reached an astonishing price of 1.2 million. In the collecting world, it’s called the “Golden Monkey.” The reasons are nothing more than three:

It was the first zodiac stamp issued in China;

The designer was Huang Yongyu;

And it was produced in limited quantities.

When it was first issued, the plan was to release eight million, but later, considering the small base of stamp collectors, it was reduced to five million. During the printing process, due to technical issues, some were damaged, so in the end, only a little over four million came out, and even fewer have survived to this day.

Because of these three points, plus some people pushing things behind the scenes, the price of the monkey stamp skyrocketed. There’s even a legendary story circulating among the public:

It’s said that a guy in the south worked at the post office back then. To meet his quota, he gritted his teeth and bought six sheets of monkey stamps himself. Thirty years later, when his eldest son got married and needed to buy a house but had no money, he sold one sheet; when his second son got married and needed money, he sold another sheet… Talk about planning ahead!

If he had traveled back a few years earlier, not to mention the monkey stamp, even those ultimate rarities like the “Big Red One,” “Revolutionary Victory,” or “Great Qing Post” would have been in his pocket for sure.

This investment was simply a thousandfold return—just one downside: the payback period was way too damn long!

Chapter 5: Heading to Beijing

After this incident, Brian Clark didn’t dare to set up a sign on the street anymore. Instead, he asked his colleagues in the troupe to help keep an eye out for fellow stamp collectors.

Not long after, someone really did get in touch, saying they had full sheets of chicken and dog stamps. Each sheet had eighty stamps, each costing eight cents. They agreed to a price of seven yuan for the lot.

In later years, a single chicken stamp was worth over two hundred, and a dog stamp fifty, but neither was worth much—just good for completing a set. But the monkey stamp he wanted most still hadn’t turned up.

A few days passed like this, and two letters arrived separately at the Quyi Troupe and the Drama Troupe. They were replies from the “Dream of the Red Chamber” production team.

“Comrade Brian Clark:

We have received your letter. Please come to Room 714 at the Overseas Chinese Mansion in the capital. Meals and lodging are at your own expense. If you are not selected, travel expenses will not be reimbursed.”

Just this short sentence stirred up quite a commotion.

Filming a TV series, and one of the Four Great Classical Novels at that—on a small scale, it would bring honor to the work unit; on a larger scale, it would bring glory to the ancestors.

For a while, a cacophony of voices surrounded this poor young man. Both his troupe and his family expressed their full support—time off, no problem; money, uh… that would need some discussion…

Mid-May, the sun was warm and gentle.

At the doorway of a family home, a rather half-hearted scene of parting was playing out. Mr. Brooks and Mrs. Brooks gave countless reminders, Brian Clark made all sorts of promises, and his childhood friend—Andrew Brooks—kept rolling her eyes.

After dawdling for ages, he finally slung a big army-green backpack over his shoulder and, with the reluctant girl in tow, headed to the bus stop. She wanted to go by herself, but her parents wouldn’t allow it, so she had to travel with this annoying guy.

The two of them waited nearly half an hour before they saw a red-and-white tram, its front looking like a locomotive, gliding along the long tracks.

Don’t look down on it—at the start of the 1980s, only 26 cities nationwide had the more advanced trolleybuses.

Brian Clark eyed the rickety vehicle, which sounded like a tractor as it clattered to a stop in front of them. As the doors opened, the uniformed ticket lady stepped out and called, “Final stop, train station! Final stop, train station! Don’t push, everyone—line up to get on, line up to get on!”

As soon as she stepped aside, he darted onto the tram and handed over a dime.

He grabbed the handrail, claimed a spot, piled their luggage on another seat, and used his body to block the crowd. “Sit!”

“……”

Andrew Brooks glanced over and, for the first time, found him rather reliable.

The space inside wasn’t big—there weren’t individual seats, but long benches with a row on each side. They rode in silence. By the time Brian Clark felt like his egg yolks were about to be shaken loose, the clattering finally stopped—they’d arrived at the train station.

A real green train, exuding a mingled scent of body odor and hardship from top to bottom. The afternoon tickets were twelve yuan eighty each. They’d have to ride for more than ten hours, spend the night on the train, and arrive the next day during daylight.

Their seats were by the window, facing each other. Once they’d settled in, they both let out a long sigh—traveling in these times was no easy feat!

Before long, the carriage filled up, and it quickly became stuffy inside.

Andrew Brooks fanned herself with her hand, not in the mood to chat, and pulled out a copy of “Jane Eyre.” Brian Clark looked around for a while, then suddenly said, “Hey, didn’t your boyfriend come to see you off?”

“He’s preparing for exams.”

“Drama academy entrance?”

“How did you know?”

“Where else would someone from the drama troupe apply? Is he aiming for Beijing Film or Central Academy of Drama?”

“Not sure, he just wants to try them all.”

“Hey, I know all about that!”