How much do you think this color TV costs?

The next morning, Sunlight spilled warmly across the streets in the early morning.

The cries of street vendors, the clatter of rickshaws, the roar of machinery from small workshops—all kinds of sounds, high and low, wove together, cutting through the quiet morning and spreading through the entire street.

Fang Bai, still deep in sleep, woke to the noise echoing in his ears.

After washing up and brushing his teeth, he went downstairs and saw that the driver was already up, sitting on a chair and smoking.

"Morning, Master Zhang. How did you sleep last night?"

"Not bad, I'm used to it. There were mosquitoes, but luckily I brought mosquito coils."

"Have you had breakfast? If not, let's eat together."

"I woke up early, already ate."

As they talked, Fang Bai also checked the truck. After a night, the goods were still safe.

Back then, most families were used to keeping their money at home, and quite a few had been burgled.

It wasn't like later years, when breaking into someone's house—there was really nothing worth stealing, and cameras were everywhere.

Fang Bai had breakfast, then went to find some movers.

His home wasn't far from the dock, where many laborers hung around waiting for work.

Fang Bai rode his bike there and saw a large crowd waiting. Some of them even carried signs listing their skills and years of experience. As soon as Fang Bai called out for movers, they swarmed over and surrounded him. In a hurry, he picked two who looked young and strong, paying each three yuan for the job.

Fang Bai returned to the rental house. He wasn't in a rush now—he let the movers take their time carrying the goods while he sat in a chair reading a book, occasionally glancing at them.

By eleven in the morning, the two movers had finished unloading. They took their pay and left, saying if he had more work, he could call on them again.

Fang Bai watched them go, noting the slight weariness in their steps. A faint pang of bitterness rose in his chest, and he sighed quietly. These people at the bottom were just like his parents—living their whole lives honestly and humbly, only to keep from going hungry.

After unloading, Fang Bai treated the driver to lunch and mentioned that he might need to go to T City again sometime and would look him up.

The driver said no problem, just mention his name.

After lunch, the driver drove off, and Fang Bai went back to the rental house.

"I need to find someone to do repairs, and I still have to watch the goods. Looks like I can't do this without family help."

He wondered what his parents would think if they knew what he was up to.

In the afternoon, Fang Bai bought several sets of repair tools and materials, including a soldering iron, flux, solder, and insulated rubber shoes for electrical safety, as well as capacitors, resistors, and rectifier components.

He picked out two 21-inch Panasonic color TVs with damaged circuit boards, planning to fix them and take one home for use.

Before disassembling, Fang Bai sprinkled water to keep the indoor humidity up.

He couldn't buy an anti-static wrist strap, so he had to eliminate static manually by grounding a wire to the TV.

Using the Golden Finger to check, he just touched a component to know if it was faulty.

Time to start disassembly!

Fang Bai put on insulated gloves and opened the back cover of the TV. He sorted the disassembled parts, bolts, and nuts into categories, then used a digital test pen to check the circuit board for static, making sure it was safe before proceeding.

Taking apart the circuit board was troublesome, mainly because of all the wiring.

In just a few minutes, Fang Bai had the circuit board removed and placed on a wooden table nearby.

He powered up the soldering iron and melted the solder to remove the damaged electronic components.

For the circuit board on this TV, a few capacitors were bad.

Replacing capacitors wasn't hard, but it required careful handling to avoid burning nearby components.

Half an hour later, Fang Bai had swapped out the damaged parts, picked the best-looking casing and wiring to assemble one complete TV, powered it on, and the screen displayed normally.

The house didn't have a TV antenna, so he rode out to buy one.

After some fiddling, the repaired TV finally showed a clear picture, with excellent sound quality.

Fang Bai adjusted the brightness, contrast, and color saturation, making the image sharper, the colors more vivid, and the picture more lifelike.

Though it couldn't compare to the high-definition LCD TVs of later years, this picture quality could already beat many TVs of the era—it wouldn't even be bad after the year 2000.

He tuned through the TV stations. There were only a few channels, and maybe they weren't interesting to him, but they'd definitely satisfy his family.

He checked the time—it was already four in the afternoon.

Fang Bai went on to repair the second TV. It only took him a little over an hour to fix, but cleaning it up took a while.

He planned to take one TV home, giving his family a big surprise and also using it as a tool to convince his parents to start a business together.

Fang Bai tied two wooden boards to the back rack of his bike, padded them with a layer of soft cardboard, then strapped the TV—wrapped in a gunny sack—onto the cardboard. He locked up the shop and rode home.

No matter how well the sack covered it, passersby could guess that what was tied to the back of the bike was probably a TV. Back then, home appliances were rare!

All along the way, Fang Bai drew a lot of stares from people on the road.

By the time night fell, Fang Bai had finally reached the village.

"Riding with this TV strapped on is really exhausting."

There was a muddy stretch in front of his house, ruined by cattle, making it hard to walk. Fang Bai panted as he pushed the bike, with the twenty-kilogram color TV still on it, sweat beading all over his forehead.

Seeing the lights on at home, he called out when he was still a dozen meters from the door: "Dad, you home? Come out and give me a hand."

His parents, preparing dinner in the main hall, were surprised to hear their son's voice.

It wasn't the weekend—why was he back?

They stepped outside, puzzled, and saw him not far from the door, panting as he pushed a cart with a big thing strapped to the rack.

"Son, what's that thing? Looks like a TV."

"It's not the weekend yet, is it?"

Fang Bai saw his parents walk over, asking one after another, and decided not to hide the fact that he was working while studying.

If he kept it secret, he couldn't help the family financially, which went against his original intention of solving their difficulties—something he didn't want.

He'd rather take a needle prick from his mom once; he could always find a way to convince them.

"Dad, let's get the Color TV down first."

"Color TV?! No way, really?"

"What, this is a Color TV? How much did it cost? Who are you hauling it for?"

"Dad, let's just move it inside first. I'm exhausted—I need to find some water."

His parents helped untie the straps and carefully unloaded it, terrified they'd drop it and have no money to pay for damages.

Opening the Gunny Sack, they saw it was indeed a TV, though they weren't sure if it was a Color TV.

Actually, Color TVs had darker screens, but Fang Bai's parents didn't know that. Since their son said it was a Color TV, they figured it must be.

Fang Bai parked the cart, didn't answer their questions, and ignored their confusion and shock. He went straight to the main hall to pour himself a bowl of water.

Seeing his father carry the TV into the main hall, Fang Bai grinned and asked, "Dad, Mom, guess how much this Color TV cost?"

"A big Color TV like this—if it were new, it'd be a few thousand. This one looks a bit old, so I don't know." His mother said, circling the TV with her husband, admiring it and gently touching it, afraid they'd accidentally damage it.

Watching his parents treat the Color TV like a treasure, Fang Bai asked, "If I sold it for eight or nine hundred, do you think anyone would want it?"

"If it works, not just eight or nine hundred—over a thousand, and someone would take it. But what if it breaks?"

"What if it comes with a one- or two-month warranty? Or a seven-day return for quality issues?"

"That really is cheap. I'd want one myself."

Fang Bai's mother grew more fond of it the longer she looked. She'd seen other people's Color TVs, but none this big, and this was the first time she could actually touch one.

If it really cost just eight or nine hundred, she'd borrow money to buy it, but thinking about her son's school expenses, she let the thought go.

Seeing the admiration in his parents' eyes, Fang Bai couldn't bear to tease them anymore. He laughed and said outright, "This Color TV is ours. It cost less than a hundred bucks to fix—I repaired it myself. And we've got plenty more like it."

"What? It's ours?"

"You little brat, what have you been hiding from us? Weren't you supposed to be at school? Just you wait!"

Both parents couldn't believe it. His mother froze for a moment, then instinctively turned and headed for the bedroom to grab a needle.

Seeing her stance, Fang Bai was genuinely scared—like Nanny Rong had come back to life. He jumped up and dashed out of the main hall, shouting at his mother, "Mom, can you just listen to me for once without grabbing a needle? I'm an adult now!"

But his shout only made his mother find the needle faster. In no time, she came out with it.

Holy crap!

Fang Bai stared at the glinting pinhead and felt a twinge of fear.

Just a few days ago, he'd been mocking his Younger Sister. If she were home now, she'd definitely be gloating.

"Then come clean. Instead of studying properly, what nonsense have you been up to?"

Liu Fengqing put on a stern face, but inside, she was secretly pleased.

She wouldn't actually prick him anymore, but she loved using the needle to threaten him.

No matter how old her child got, in her eyes, he was still a kid.