Chapter Twenty-Five: Preparations Begin

That night, the village dogs barked furiously, likely because some couples who had sneaked back under the cover of darkness were caught red-handed. Fortunately, with Stone’s warning, Lu Kun didn’t rush out blindly.

There was only one bed at Stone’s house, so the two had no choice but to sleep together; at this point, concerns about appearing too close were the least of their worries. The tension of the day had left them both physically and mentally exhausted; Lu Kun went to bed early to restore his strength.

At four in the morning, under the shroud of darkness, the two slipped quietly toward a secluded path leading out of the village. Stone led the way, scouting for potential traps. The wild, narrow path was difficult to traverse, and to avoid any noise from the bicycle, Lu Kun had already tied up the pedals with string.

The dew-laden grass brushed against their legs as they walked, and the barking of the village dogs faded behind them, growing fainter with each step until it was barely audible. Luckily, they met no trouble along the way; everything proceeded smoothly.

“Brother, take good care of my two daughters for me these days,” Lu Kun said hoarsely, breaking the silence, his voice choked with emotion.

“Don’t get all sappy on me. You don’t need to say it; I’ll look after Da Ya and Er Ya for you. Just take care of yourself,” Stone replied gruffly.

“And listen, you’d better wait for my message before coming back. Don’t try to sneak in on your own, or if you end up getting snipped, don’t blame me…” Stone suddenly took on the nagging tone of a monk.

Lu Kun was speechless.

What’s with that schadenfreude in your voice? And what do you mean ‘snipped’? It’s called sterilization, alright? No wonder you never made it past elementary school!

“I’m going now. You should head back,” Lu Kun cut him off, untied the string from the pedals, mounted the bicycle, and rode away alone.

After several hundred meters, he looked back to see Stone still foolishly standing there, waving at him.

He couldn’t help but picture Stone’s silly, grinning face.

…

Ping’an Town.

A street by the vegetable market.

Today, Lu Kun was the undisputed champion of early-rising vendors. The street was silent, not a soul in sight.

He reached for his pocket out of habit, intending to take a cigarette, then realized he was wearing Stone’s clothes and paused. Digging into the left pocket, he found the money from his own clothes, which he’d changed out of yesterday. In the right pocket, he found a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches.

He was sure these things hadn’t been there the night before…

…

Damn.

The faint glow of a match illuminated the little corner of the street, and tears stained Lu Kun’s face. He lit a cigarette, the bitterness filling his mouth.

“Lu Kun, how could you have been such a bastard in your past life!” he whispered, curled up in the corner, trembling, unable to stop the tears.

…

Dawn crept in.

The street by the vegetable market came alive. Vendors set up their stalls, and diligent farmers arrived early, carrying baskets of fresh produce.

Lu Kun composed himself, plastered on his habitual false smile, and began the day’s work—buying, selling, and trading goods.

After nearly three months on this street, he’d gotten to know all the stall owners and established a steady customer base. Many people liked this cheerful, handsome young man—his humor and charm made his business one of the most popular on the street.

But Lu Kun’s main source of income wasn’t from these casual customers. No matter how hard he worked, he couldn’t make much from them in a day.

He had established a connection with the procurement teams from the town’s three middle schools. The profit margin wasn’t high, but the volume made up for it. Each school’s order brought in more than several days’ worth of regular trade.

The procurement teams were pleased as well; rarely did they meet a vendor so savvy and accommodating.

“Brother, same as always—on the books I’ll mark these purple sweet potatoes at nine cents a pound, but you just let me have them for seven,” Lu Kun would say, shrewdly fattening up the buyers while making a tidy profit himself. Purple sweet potatoes weren’t particularly valuable, but even on the open market, they’d fetch eight or nine cents a pound. The procurement team could pocket the difference without anyone noticing.

Lu Kun made four cents per pound on the deal—one procurement group netted him more than twenty yuan, and with three groups, he could earn nearly seventy yuan a day—double what he made from regular customers.

Recently, Lu Kun had been working to secure deals with the town’s slaughterhouse and food factory. If successful, those would become major new sources of income.

Li Ernui was also making a name for himself on this street.

His stall was set up next to a burly pork vendor. Over time, the two became close friends and even sworn brothers. Locals who bought pork from the butcher received a handful of green onions from Li Ernui, and those who bought vegetables from Li Ernui got a discount on their meat.

It was an odd but effective partnership, one that others tried to imitate but rarely succeeded in maintaining for long. However, Li Ernui and the pork vendor’s collaboration only grew more prosperous.

Li Ernui could finally be said to have “turned the tables and begun to sing his own song.” Life had always been hard for him; he’d never even dreamed of eating meat so often. Now, he dreamed not of bowls of rice, but of beautiful, lively girls.

He knew, though, that with his own looks, marrying a pretty wife wouldn’t be easy. He needed to save more money.

When it came to marrying off a daughter, a mother-in-law didn’t care about looks, only ability. And ability was measured by wealth and earning power.

As the saying goes, “Marrying a man is marrying a livelihood.” As long as you could provide food and warmth, there were plenty of girls willing to marry you.

When Li Ernui came to pay back the thirty yuan he’d borrowed, Lu Kun was surprised. The once hunched, timid man now shone with renewed vitality, carrying himself with poise and confidence.

“Brother Kun, sorry I took so long to repay you,” he said, handing over the money along with a chunk of pork tied with straw.

Lu Kun tried to refuse, but Li Ernui insisted. In his heart, Lu Kun admitted there was a reason why Li Ernui had eventually succeeded in life. Judging by the size of the pork, it must have weighed three or four catties—even the more prosperous vendors would rarely give away such good meat as a gift.

“And Brother Kun, about that favor you mentioned—whenever you need my help, just say the word. I, Old Li, won’t let you down,” Li Ernui promised, his demeanor suddenly more serious.

Lu Kun collected his thoughts. There was less than a month before the price of galangal would skyrocket; it was time to make preparations.

But finding a place to store the galangal was a challenge. He planned to stockpile it for the later price surge; in the early stages, prices remained flat, but when they soared, there was always the risk that someone desperate might try to steal it.