Getting Rich, Starting with Buying Goods in 1984

The most fatal and crucial point of this kind of time-travel story is the commodity trading: gold is sold like cabbage, basically free, and the protagonist is even smug about it. I don't know if this book has this kind of plot; if it does, then there's no need to read it.

I couldn't bear to look at more than a few pages. I wonder if the author even bothered to check the data. First of all, land was contracted out at that time, right after the household responsibility system was implemented. People were struggling to even have enough to eat. Whose land could they contract? In Northeast China, it was all state-owned farms. If you dared to propose contracting land, you risked being left with nothing but peanuts. Also, the salary in 1984 was 27...

This book contains several factual errors. I wonder what the author's understanding of the regional culture and artifacts of the 1980s is. First, there's the issue of identity. If someone gets lost and encounters kind people, would everyone let their guard down? How could an unidentified person settle down without any connections or knowledge of anyone?

The name can be changed appropriately; the path to wealth for relatives in the 1980s.

The author is probably not very old and not very sensitive to price fluctuations. For example, if they were to sell clothes and earn a dollar per item, selling hundreds or thousands of items a month would be easy, resulting in a monthly commission of several thousand dollars.

I read a novel where the protagonist travels back in time, but he confesses to the government and uses its power.

Dealing in antiques is not a wise choice; the industry is too murky. Ideally, modern industrial products should be sent in exchange for raw materials such as jadeite and bloodstone.

Seeing that Qin Zhiman was abandoned was enough for me to say I didn't want to read it anymore. I believe most veteran readers felt the same way. Qin Zhiman was portrayed so vividly; girls like her were very rare in that era. And this was the ending—it was so disheartening.

They're all about making people stupid; even a child would know to pick up antiques, heavy metal, and jade first.

The author's suggestion that tickets from the 1980s are readily available and inexpensive now raises the question: has the author opened up a new avenue of thought?