Chapter Nine: Fiery Passion

When Lu Kun arrived at the entrance of the county’s only movie theater, he noticed that a few early audience members had already started to file in. He raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, glancing up to see that the sun had not yet fully set.

In 1989, Angui County’s purchasing power was still rather weak. Ordinary factory workers might go an entire year without seeing a single movie at the cinema. Most of the patrons were young couples in the throes of courtship. For the older generation, anything that cost money was avoided whenever possible. Their attitude toward spending was extremely conservative—annual expenditures on services likely amounted to less than one percent of their daily expenses. Conversely, their savings rate was astonishingly high.

Lu Kun parked his bicycle, making sure it always remained within his line of sight. He had no intention of selling baskets of river snails only to have his bicycle stolen in the process. He set down his basket, lifted the lid, and began to hawk his wares.

“Come and have a look, everyone passing by! Genuine five-spice river snails, just twenty cents a serving, twenty cents a serving! Doesn’t matter if you buy or not—just come over and have a look!”

“Two dimes a serving, two dimes a serving—every portion only two dimes!”

“Twenty cents isn’t much—it won’t get you to Hong Kong or Singapore! This is the real deal, five-spice river snails! If you want them, don’t hesitate, hurry up! Two dimes a serving, twenty cents each, truly worth every penny—buy some and you’ve struck a bargain!”

Perhaps the Chinese matrons were born with a knack for sniffing out a bargain; the moment Lu Kun started his pitch, a whole crowd of aunties swarmed over.

Lu Kun felt a mounting pressure. In his previous life or this one, facing aunties with their overwhelming presence always made his legs tremble.

“Young man, you’re quite handsome. Do you have a girlfriend?” One of the aunties edged closer, chatting as if they were old friends, before Lu Kun could even finish his call.

Lu Kun wiped imaginary sweat from his brow. “Auntie, I… I’m married. I even have a child.”

“Oh? Then, how much are you selling your river snails for?” The auntie’s matchmaking instincts had clearly kicked in again. She was a retired worker from a state-owned enterprise with a modest pension, and in her spare time, she played matchmaker. Every successful pairing earned a sizable red envelope from both sides—a modest but steady supplement to her income, adding up to more than a hundred yuan a year. Her pocket notebook was crammed with details of eligible young men and women, always ready for her next opportunity to make a match.

“Two dimes a serving. Look, a whole big portion!” Lu Kun brandished a pair of clam shells, heaping them full.

“Oh my, that’s expensive!” The auntie’s expression was dramatically exaggerated, stepping back two or three paces.

“Not expensive, not at all! Think about it, auntie—a pound of lean pork sells for two yuan twenty, a pound of eggs for two fifty. Just look at the oil glistening on my snails.” Lu Kun lifted the pot lid, letting the auntie see for herself.

She clutched her chest and stepped forward, unable to resist the sight of all that oil, swallowing involuntarily.

Lu Kun’s eyes lit up. He sensed an opportunity.

“Auntie, here, have a taste—no need to buy, just try it.” Lu Kun scooped one out with a small spatula and offered it to her.

She took one, carefully sucking out the snail meat in one go. The freshness, aroma, and spice danced on her palate, smoothing the frown on her face.

“Auntie, look, it’s my first day selling at the market, and you’re my very first customer. It must be fate! If you buy three servings, I’ll give you a discount—fifty cents for all three. And in the future, you’ll always get three for fifty cents!”

Lu Kun sweetened the deal in her mind.

The auntie hesitated for a moment, then collected herself. “Alright, I’ll take three portions—make them full!” She reached into her waistband and counted out fifty cents.

“Coming right up! Just wait a moment!” Lu Kun filled the clam shells to the brim, then ladled out a generous scoop of broth from the bottom, pouring it over the three servings.

The auntie’s eyes sparkled, her face beaming as she gave Lu Kun a thumbs-up. “Good lad, you know how to do business—honest and fair!”

Lu Kun laughed heartily. He’d made a sale and earned the title of “upright nephew” in one stroke.

“Of course! Auntie, come back anytime and support my business,” he replied graciously.

Such were the times. Whether urban or rural, people were starved for fat and oil. Never mind gutter oil—if they saw rat fat, their eyes would light up. It was never a problem to sell pork trimmings. Aunties and butchers could get into heated arguments, even brawls, over a piece of meat that was too lean or not fatty enough. There was no shortage of “meat-related incidents.”

With the first sale made, the rest would be easy.

When confronted with complaints about the price, Lu Kun would talk up the oil and fat—convincing the aunties to buy. In less than an hour, he’d sold over thirty servings, clearing more than six yuan profit. He was practically grinning from ear to ear. Even in a big city like Shanghai, a worker’s monthly salary was barely a hundred yuan at the time. Six yuan was enough for three pounds of prime pork fat—a feast in itself—or to pay for a semester of primary school for his eldest daughter.

Lu Kun called out even more enthusiastically, his motivation to earn money soaring.

“Young man, why don’t you buy a serving of river snails for your girlfriend? Authentic five-spice river snails, just twenty cents a serving,” Lu Kun called out, intercepting a clean-cut, student-looking young man.

The boy must have been on summer break, saving up enough to take his girlfriend to the movies. At Lu Kun’s words, his face flushed bright red.

“That’s too expensive… I… I don’t have enough money…” The boy was obviously shy, worried someone might spot him bringing his girlfriend to the cinema.

But Lu Kun, a seasoned hand, wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip by.

“Not expensive at all! Think about it—a movie ticket costs a yuan and twenty cents, and for the price of one ticket, you could buy ten servings of five-spice river snails for your girlfriend!”

“No, no, I… my… my classmate and I… we’re splitting the cost…” the boy mumbled, embarrassed.

Lu Kun thought, “What a blockhead!”

“Brother, that’s all the more reason to buy her a serving. Take it from me—when a man is with a woman, you can’t skimp on these little treats.” He gave the boy a look that was half encouraging, half disdainful.

Perhaps sensing the mixture of encouragement and mockery, the boy felt himself floating. Especially being addressed as “brother” by an older man—it gave him the illusion that he was already grown up, a real man. The words “man,” “woman,” and “dating” only fueled his adolescent ardor.

But when it came to paying, his courage collapsed. He was all talk. The boy had just fifty cents to his name, and after Lu Kun’s relentless persuasion, he hazily handed over the coins and took away two servings of river snails.

Lu Kun certainly wasn’t going to remind him that, at a theater in this era, once you left and tried to come back, you’d have to buy another ticket.