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Jiang Mixia was suddenly alarmed. Was her husband still thinking about going back in time? Could he be considering something extreme?
Or perhaps he felt that the family was too impoverished and had run away…
Lost in her thoughts, Jiang Mixia faintly heard a rustling sound, like it was coming from the courtyard.
She got out of bed, put on her shoes, and stepped outside. In the courtyard, she saw someone sitting on a small stool, holding a piece of bamboo in one hand and a machete in the other, deftly and skillfully splitting bamboo strips.
It was her husband, Song Jingyun.
Jiang Mixia was momentarily stunned. In the deep night, with a slight chill in the air, her slender husband working alone in the courtyard seemed somewhat desolate. His serious expression added an air of solemnity.
Her husband was not sleeping in the middle of the night, but instead, he was working…
Was it because he thought the family was too impoverished, and he wanted to help earn some money as soon as possible? Or was it due to her previous intimidation, causing her husband to be afraid and trying hard to please the family?
Regardless of the reason, Jiang Mixia felt uneasy.
Rubbing her tired eyes, she thought about asking Song Jingyun to go back and rest. However, as she stepped into the courtyard, she heard him muttering something.
As she approached, Jiang Mixia finally made out the words: “One piece of braised pork, two pieces of braised pork, three pieces of braised pork…”
Setting down the split bamboo strip in his hand, he picked up a new one.
“One piece of pan-fried tofu, two pieces of pan-fried tofu…”
Jiang Mixia was taken aback. Was he working so hard just to be able to eat braised pork and pan-fried tofu?
Truly, his ambition was immense…
—
A few busy days followed.
They spent their days cutting bamboo, sawing bamboo, splitting bamboo strips, and weaving various bamboo baskets and crates.
On the tenth day, Jiang Youcheng, Jiang Mixia, and Song Jingyun carried their finished products to the town market. They used Third uncle Jiang’s ox cart as transportation.
The three of them, along with the bulky baskets and crates tied with hemp rope, nearly filled the cart to the brim.
“Wow!” Third uncle Jiang exclaimed, impressed. “You’ve been really productive these days. If you manage to sell everything in town, you’ll make a good sum of money.”
“Indeed, I think I should charge you more for the cart today. I need to share in your success,” Third uncle Jiang joked.
“Sharing the success is a must,” Jiang Youcheng grinned and handed over some coins from his pouch.
Third uncle Jiang found a few more coins, and in the end, the fare was four coins.
As usual, they set up their stall in West Street, surrounded by familiar faces.
“Today, we’ve brought these bamboo woven baskets. They look good, so they should sell well.”
“Everyday items, as long as the prices are reasonable, should sell without trouble.”
“May your business prosper…”
Unlike the last time, the interactions were warm and friendly. After all, the previous market day had been quite disappointing, and if business didn’t pick up this time, it would be hard to explain when they returned home, not to mention the financial strain.
Belief in superstition was necessary. Who knew, it might have some effect, and it was better not to have disputes over money.
Though saying such things made them feel a bit embarrassed. After all, they had made jokes last time, and now it seemed like they were trying a bit too hard to please.
But, for the sake of money, it wasn’t shameful…
The group spoke discreetly, exchanged knowing glances, and didn’t find it awkward. They knew that ultimately, they were the ones who felt embarrassed last time. Besides, they didn’t have much connection with these people, so Jiang Youcheng and Jiang Mixia didn’t bother with lengthy conversation or elaborate responses. They simply arranged their products and prepared to start selling.
Everyday items such as bamboo baskets, crates, and hampers were in demand, prone to wear and tear, and not everyone could make them. Plus, the market had a wide variety of goods.
As Jiang Youcheng called out, quite a few people came to inspect and buy their products. The medium-sized bamboo baskets were priced at 23 copper coins, slightly smaller bamboo crates at 20, and the more intricately woven bamboo hampers at 27. Overall, the prices were quite fair.
This pricing strategy was Jiang Mixia’s idea. Since these were relatively rough items, not particularly finely crafted, selling them at a small profit margin for higher volume ultimately meant more earnings.
This approach proved effective. In no time, they sold three bamboo baskets, two bamboo crates, and one bamboo hamper.
By the time the sun rose high, most of their items were sold, leaving only two bamboo baskets. Their money pouch, once empty, was now bulging, and Jiang Youcheng’s grin reached almost to his ears.
The surrounding vendors also had good sales, better than anticipated.
“It’s not bad, it seems to have some effect.”
“It looks like the heavens are watching over us.”
“Accumulate merit; it won’t harm your financial luck.”
“Why do I feel like I’m benefiting from their good fortune…”
The group whispered among themselves, but the last person’s remark seemed a bit exaggerated.
With so many successful businesses around, if they truly did benefit from someone else’s good fortune, then that family must have incredibly good luck. Nonetheless, whether their luck was significant or not, it didn’t matter much. What mattered was to say things to attract wealth, which proved to be useful.
Jiang Youcheng and Jiang Mixia were too busy with their sales to pay attention to what others were saying. Instead, they were discussing with Song Jingyun about the plan to bring back some meat for lunch.
They wanted to have braised pork—big chunks for a satisfying meal.
Song Jingyun was quite clear about his desires.
“You bet, it will be satisfying!” Jiang Youcheng patted his chest enthusiastically, causing the coins in his pocket to jingle. “We’ll go as soon as we finish selling these two bamboo baskets.”
As he said this, a middle-aged man approached Jiang Youcheng. “How much for this bamboo basket?”
“One for 23 copper coins. No bargaining. These are the last two. If you take both, I’ll give them to you for 45 coins,” Jiang Youcheng replied with a grin.
The man didn’t respond but picked up the bamboo basket, examined it, and then weighed it in his hands. He smiled and remarked, “This bamboo basket of yours is quite heavy. I’ve seen others at the market that are much lighter than yours.”
Heavy? Was it really heavy? Besides, weren’t all bamboo baskets like this? Today, after selling so many items, no one had mentioned the products being heavy.
Jiang Youcheng scratched his ear. The man in front of him didn’t seem like a buyer; rather, he seemed more like a fault-finder, and Jiang didn’t feel like engaging with him.
On the contrary, Jiang Mixia carefully observed the man in front of her. He was middle-aged, fair-skinned, and clean-shaven. His blue long shirt, while not new, was well-kept, giving him an educated appearance. His fingers, holding the bamboo basket, were slender and well-defined, not typical of someone who did manual labor.
Such a person coming to the market to buy a bamboo basket…