Old Mrs. Song is reborn; get out of here, you scumbag husband and illegitimate child!

The ward door was open.

Several family members of the patients inside heard the commotion and came to the door to chime in.

"Young lady, pregnant women should be able to eat a lot," an elderly woman with a wrinkled face said, cracking sunflower seeds. "It's good that this young woman is plump; it means the baby is getting enough nutrition. If she can eat, she should eat more. Being plump is always better than being thin."

A middle-aged man peeling an apple nearby chimed in:

"When my wife was pregnant with our baby, she ate five meals a day, and gave birth to a big, healthy boy weighing over seven pounds. He's rarely sick since he was little; he's very healthy."

Upon hearing this, Chunxia instantly felt more confident.

She also wanted to be slimmer and prettier, but her mouth just wouldn't stop.

Song Xianglan glanced coldly at the family members.

"All the flesh went into her own body. When the fetus became too big to be delivered, who among you would take the incision for her?"

"What could your wife eat for five meals a day back then? She certainly wasn't as fat as her, right?"

The middle-aged man took a serious look at Chunxia.

"She's not as fat as me. She's much smaller than me. She used to be thinner, but now she's a bit greasy. I still make her an egg to eat every few days."

Nie Xiaochuan quickly ran to the market and bought cucumbers and tomatoes.

It was washed until it was sparkling clean, and then handed to Chunxia.

Song Xianglan said that we can eat more of this.

Chunxia was so aggrieved that tears streamed down her face. She took a bite of the cucumber, chewing it with a crunching sound, her face full of reluctance.

I ate two cucumbers and two tomatoes.

Chunxia let out a burp and dared not mention the gua bao again.

Less than an hour later, the doctor came over with the test results, looking very unwell.

Who is Huang Chunxia?

"My wife is Huang Chunxia." Nie Xiaochuan quickly went to greet her.

The doctor slapped the report into Nie Xiaochuan's hand. "Your wife's blood sugar is severely elevated. From now on, she not only needs to give up sugar, but she also has to strictly control her intake of staple foods and fruits. If she continues like this, she'll develop gestational diabetes."

Chunxia turned pale with fright, and the half-eaten tomato in her hand fell to the ground.

"Doctor, will... will that affect the baby?" Chunxia's voice trembled with anxiety.

"It affects not only children, but also adults. From today onwards, you must watch what you eat and go for a walk every day," the doctor said sternly.

Chunxia was now completely panicked.

When a woman becomes a mother, her subconscious thought is to protect the child in her womb.

"I'll abstain from certain foods, and I promise I can walk properly." Chunxia nodded repeatedly, her face turning pale. "Mom, did you hear me? From now on, you absolutely can't let me eat whatever I want. If I complain of being hungry again, just slap my mouth."

How could Song Xiangmei dare to slap her daughter-in-law?

"Okay, okay, Mom will remember that, I'll definitely stop you."

Chunxia pulled Nie Xiaochuan along, following behind the doctor, asking him clearly about how many ounces of rice and what vegetables he could eat each day.

Nie Xiaochuan borrowed a pen from a nurse and wrote a dense layer of notes on his palm.

mirage.

The arrival of Song Dong's goods immediately sparked a frenzy in Shanghai.

The business at the two stores on Huaihai Road and Yuyuan Road is booming beyond imagination.

As soon as Liu Yukun brought the goods into the warehouse, he turned around and called each of the customers who had paid the deposit.

The news was released.

In less than two hours, a long queue had formed in front of the shop.

People in Shanghai have a deep-seated love for queuing.

No matter what they sell, as long as they see people queuing, passersby will immediately join the queue.

A middle-aged man wearing a Dacron shirt waited in line for a long time before finally squeezing to the counter.

"Comrade, what hot item are you selling?"

Liu Yukun's voice was hoarse from working so hard, and his throat felt like it was on fire. "Motorcycle. But you need proof of the advance payment to pay the balance and pick up the motorcycle."

The middle-aged man was taken aback and touched his empty pockets.

"There's no proof of prepayment. What's in this cabinet?"

"Smuggled videotapes and tapes from Hong Kong and Taiwan," Liu Yukun said, handing over a disc.

The middle-aged man's eyes lit up when he saw the packaging.

"Give me ten copies. Take them home and put them in video arcades, they'll make a fortune."

"There's still a lot of stock inside. Come in and see if there's anything you need. Even if you don't buy anything, just take a look. You can come to our Song's Trading Company next time you want to buy something."

Middle-aged men go in, and once they see something they like, they don't want to leave without buying it.

I bought two more things.

Song Dong sat in the inner room, with bundles of ten-yuan bills piled up in front of him.

His hands ached from counting the money.

Liu Yukun walked to the door, picked up a megaphone, and shouted to the long line: "Everyone, there are still five motorcycles left to be sold. Listen up if you don't have proof of purchase: anyone who spends over 1,000 yuan at this store today is eligible to participate in the auction for these five motorcycles. The highest bidder wins."

The crowd erupted in cheers.

at the same time.

The same approach applies to Huang Ronghua's shop on Yuyuan Road.

He had three motorcycles as collateral, and the bidding threshold was set at a minimum purchase of 500 yuan.

Shanghai has never lacked wealthy people.

Especially those speculators who have just doubled their money in the stock market.

A shop owner wearing a gold chain and carrying a leather bag bought over a thousand yuan worth of goods at Huang Ronghua's shop and put the videotapes into a net bag.

"Boss," the man with the gold chain pointed to the counter, "we regulars spend money so freely, your store should get a VIP card or something. Next time there are hot items like these, we cardholders should get priority. We can't always be crammed in with these casual customers."

Huang Ronghua found the idea novel.

"Don't worry, boss, I'll write this down right away and report it to the big boss later." Huang Ronghua smiled and handed over a Hongtashan cigarette.

Five days later.

Qingyang County.

The door to Song Xianglan's office was pushed open.

Song Dongfeng walked in, looking disheveled, and slammed a heavy canvas bag onto the desk.

Pull out the zipper, and you'll find neatly stacked banknotes.

"Third Aunt, the accounts in Haishi are settled." Song Dong picked up his enamel mug and took a big gulp of water.

Song Xianglan opened the account book and quickly checked the numbers.

"The purchasing power of Shanghai residents is truly astonishing." Song Xianglan closed the ledger.

Song Dong put down his teacup. "I have a friend at the post office who told me to buy some monkey stamps if I had some spare cash. He said the price of monkey stamps has gone up quite a bit lately."

Song Xianglan paused.

Monkey stamp.

This item was later sold for an astronomical price, with one set being enough to buy a house.

Although prices have risen a bit now, it's not yet time for the first real surge in two years.

"Since we have the channels, let's collect more." Song Xianglan raised her head, her tone decisive. "Buy me twenty or thirty sets and keep them."

Song Dong scratched his head.

"Auntie, that guy said the price is several times higher now than when it was first released. Isn't it a bad deal to buy your stuff now?"

"As long as the price can still rise, buying now is a sure way to make money." Song Xianglan pushed the canvas bag in front of Song Dong. "Money you earn should be spent and converted into something of value. Holding onto it is just dead money. Don't worry about it, this money will come from my account."

Song Dong grabbed the phone on his desk and dialed his friend's number at the post office.

"Hey, Dalin. This is Song Dong." Song Dong leaned against the edge of the table. "How many of those monkey stamps you mentioned yesterday can you get your hands on?"

Da Lin's voice was a little hoarse on the other end of the phone:

"Dongzi, I don't have much on hand. But some of my friends bought a bunch when they were in the rush, and now they urgently need money at home and are looking all over the world for someone to buy them. They're asking for a pretty high price."

"Price it the same as the market price, don't try to lower it." Song Dong glanced at Song Xianglan. "Have them bring it all over, I'll buy it all."

Dalin was startled.

"Buy it all? Where do you get so much spare money?"

"My aunt's food factory is going to give out benefits to management. I bought a few things, and my aunt said that stamps should also be given to the employees as benefits," Song Dong said, making up an excuse.

"Okay. Wait for my message, come find me this afternoon."

After hanging up the phone, Song Dong picked out several bundles of money and put them into a brown paper bag.

"Third Aunt, I'll get this sorted out this afternoon." Song Dong picked up the paper bag. "I'm going to the workshop to check on the progress of the packaging line. The distributor in Beijing is urging me to ship the goods."