Chapter Thirty-Five: Contest

Lu Kun’s swift rejection of the old buyer’s proposal was well-founded. At this time, there were plenty of shady tricks up Old Hei’s sleeve. Oftentimes, the buyer would suggest leading the seller and their goods through numerous intersections, corners, and alleys under various pretexts. If the seller failed to clarify things in advance, they might never know how they ended up dead. The moment you followed them into some remote alley, you could lose both your wealth and your life. There was no need to doubt it—deviants weren’t exclusive to modern times.

Though the old man was ruthless, he hadn’t tampered with the scales, so the weight of this batch of sand ginger matched what Lu Kun had expected. There were thirty sacks in total, weighing three thousand nine hundred jin after deducting the packaging. That converted to thirty-one thousand two hundred yuan!

Gulp.

After calculating the total, Lu Kun couldn’t help swallowing hard. Thirty-one thousand two hundred yuan—he had already recouped half his investment, yet had sold less than 3.4 percent of his sand ginger. A windfall! I can be a nouveau riche again in this life!

Rubbing the money in his hands, Lu Kun, no matter how composed, couldn’t suppress his joy. This was the first time since his rebirth that he’d touched a banknote valued over ten yuan. Given the substantial sum, both parties agreed on payment in one-hundred-yuan notes. Back on April 27, 1987, the central bank had begun issuing the fourth series of renminbi, dated 1980, which included denominations of one, two, and five jiao, ten, fifty, and one hundred yuan. There were no twenty-yuan notes in circulation at this time; they wouldn’t appear until early 2000.

Gui A County was a small, remote place. Despite it being over two years since the fifty and one-hundred-yuan notes had been issued, they were still rare, seldom seen in everyday transactions. Ordinary folks rarely needed such large denominations, and small vendors by the roadside could never make change for them. The old man’s connections were evident from his ability to produce so many one-hundred-yuan notes at once.

Lu Kun counted the stack three times, carefully checking each note for authenticity before concluding the transaction.

“The amount is correct, no counterfeits, right? Heh, I’ve been scraping by here for a while now. If you have more goods, young man, you can always come to me. I’ll buy at the market price, cough, cough...” The old man finished with a few hacking coughs, flicked the ash from his cigarette, saw it was nothing but a stub, and promptly tossed it to the ground, crushing out the ember with his shoe.

“That’s a real shame. I sold too soon. Maybe I’ll go out to the countryside again and see if I can collect more goods in a few days. If I do, you’ll look after me, won’t you, Uncle?” Though Lu Kun was riding high, he hadn’t lost his wits. For now, it was best to keep the old man guessing, let him fill in the blanks himself.

“Countryside!” The word struck the old man like a bolt from the blue. Of course—the boss he worked for had already swept up most of the sand ginger on the market, but plenty of farmers in the countryside must still have stockpiles. “Should I head out to the villages and collect a batch myself, make a killing?” Fiery ambition rose in his chest.

“This place isn’t safe anymore,” Lu Kun mused, glancing up at the sign: “First Agricultural Market.” The old man’s helpers were already hauling sacks of sand ginger inside. The old man pulled out another cigarette, offered one to Lu Kun, and brought his lighter over.

“Hey now, Uncle, I can’t let you light my cigarette—and besides, I don’t smoke at all.” Lu Kun laughed, gently pushing the lighter away with his right hand.

The old man glanced at Lu Kun’s yellowed index and middle fingers, momentarily at a loss for words. Sly fox! he cursed inwardly.

“How about you have one of mine instead?” Lu Kun, after a moment’s thought, pulled out a pack of Red Pagoda Hill cigarettes and offered one to the old man.

The old man was speechless. How brazen can a person be? Didn’t you just say you didn’t smoke? And now you’ve contradicted yourself in an instant! His face flushed red, and he broke into a fit of coughing.

“Alright then, Uncle, I’m off. See you around!” Lu Kun waved to the old man, climbed into the driver’s seat, and with a roar, drove off in his hand-held tractor.

The old man, still coughing, beckoned toward a dark alley by the agricultural market. Five or six young men hurried over.

“Here’s what you’re going to do—this, and this, and this. Remember, don’t screw it up,” the old man said sharply.

Few people were on the street. Lu Kun pushed the tractor to its top speed. Glancing in the rearview mirror at the men sprinting after him, he couldn’t help but smile. If you want to play, I’ll play along. Let’s see if your two legs can keep up with my four wheels.

“Sorry, Boss Hu—we lost him...” The five or six men stood before the old man, as meek as schoolboys caught in the act.

“Mm.” The old man grunted. He’d expected as much; those men were never going to catch that slippery kid. It’s not that he hadn’t considered having them chase with motorcycles, but in broad daylight, with so few vehicles on the road, it would be too conspicuous. His men couldn’t afford to be seen.

“Which direction did the tractor go?” After a few seconds, the old man asked again, the oppressive silence making the men break out in a sweat.

“It...it headed toward H County,” they muttered.

“H County...” The old man exhaled a plume of smoke, deep in thought.

Lu Kun had thrown him off track again. The men were clearly tailing him, so Lu Kun let them follow, even deliberately slowing down and meandering toward H County. After a few miles, he left them behind, then doubled back to Gui A County.

The two cigarettes Boss Hu had given him, Lu Kun never smoked. He tossed them straight into a roadside ditch. If he’d guessed right, the first cigarette was probably fine, but the second was likely tampered with. There were no absolutes, but to be safe, he’d discarded both. As for what exactly was wrong, he couldn’t say, but it probably wasn’t drugs. More likely, the tobacco had been soaked in some kind of hallucinogen or numbing agent.

Finally back in the rented courtyard in Gui A County, Lu Kun let out a long breath and patted his back, realizing his shirt was soaked through with sweat. This time, he’d made it through by the skin of his teeth.

Thirty-one thousand two hundred yuan! And that was for just over three thousand jin—while more than seventy thousand jin of sand ginger still sat in the courtyard. Bursting with excitement, Lu Kun couldn’t wait to share the news with Liu and celebrate with a long, passionate bout of lovemaking.