Chapter Bonanza (3/5)

━━ 🐈‍⬛ ━━

Ma’er Village, the Ma household.

Huo Ling opened the burlap sack and showed Bearded Ma the wild chicken necks inside, making the man rub his arms in anticipation.

A mass of snakes coiled together, their patterns so dazzling they made one’s eyes spin, sending shivers down one’s spine.

“You’ve got some nerve, venturing into the mountains to raid a snake den in the dead of winter?” 

“It’s like a dog chasing a rabbit—only to end up flushing out the snake that had taken up residence in the rabbit’s burrow.” Huo Ling finished speaking and asked him, “So, what do you say? Will you take these?”

“Sure, why not? Tie the bag up tight and come inside with me to get the money.” Bearded Ma was very straightforward. Once Huo Ling had gone inside, the two began to settle the account. “How do you plan to sell them?”

Huo Ling spoke honestly, “This is my first time selling live snakes. I don’t know the price—you decide.”

Before this, he’d only ever scavenged dead Tuqiuzi vipers in the mountains and sold their gallbladders twice. Bearded Ma chuckled, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll rip you off?”

“Whether you’re ripping me off or not, I can find out by asking around town later. But since we agreed I’d sell them to you, and it’s freezing out, I can’t be bothered to make the trip. Plus, if I leave them at home overnight, my family will be scared.”

He and Yan Qi had come down from the mountains that morning. Since he had children at home, he hadn’t gone inside to sit; he’d just taken a couple of sips of water before rushing by cart to Ma’er Village to sell the snake, never even letting the sack inside the house.

Bearded Ma stroked his beard and said, “Then I’ll stick to the old custom around here: by the pound. One tael of silver per pound.”

Huo Ling thought for a moment. A full-grown pheasant neck snake weighed about seven or eight liang; the eleven snakes here should total a little over four pounds. Making a profit of nearly five taels of silver on the spot wasn’t bad at all.

He asked Bearded Ma in return, “How much is a jar of the finished snake oil ointment?” Bearded Ma gestured to indicate a size roughly that of two walnuts. “A jar this size costs sixty wen, but it lasts a long time.”

Besides snake oil, the ointment contained other herbs. Since Bearded Ma was willing to pay one tael per pound for the snakes, he was sure to make a profit after turning them into medicine. Huo Ling said, “Then you don’t need to settle the account with me just yet. Once the snake oil ointment is ready, I’ll buy two jars from you, and I’ll deduct the cost from the payment.”

Bearded Ma didn’t hesitate. “It’s best to settle the transaction with cash. Here’s what we’ll do: I’ll count fifty-one jars as one catty of snake meat. We’ll weigh it in a moment, subtract that catty, and I’ll pay you the rest.”

Huo Ling agreed, and Bearded Ma called his wife over to bring a weighing rod.

Bearded Ma’s wife was afraid of snakes and wouldn’t dare get close. She stood far away and told Bearded Ma to fetch it himself, then asked Huo Ling, “Is the sack tied tight enough? It won’t escape, will it?”

Before Huo Ling could answer, Bearded Ma interjected, “Now that they’re in my hands, how could they possibly escape? Get two jars of yellow wine ready—I’ll have use for them.”

After Ma’s wife left, Huo Ling lifted the burlap sack with one hand and hung it on the scale; it weighed exactly four and a half pounds. Bearded Ma took out a string of coins, counted out the money for him, then cut the hemp rope in the middle, re-tied the knot, and told Huo Ling to pack it up.

“Snake oil ointment takes time to make. Come back in ten days to pick it up.”

Huo Ling agreed, then left for the Wang family’s oil mill to collect ten catties of lamp oil from home. They and the eldest son’s household each took five catties. With the weather turning cold, they rarely went out, so pressing a larger batch at once was the most efficient.

However, since it got dark earlier now, they were using more lamp oil in the winter. What used to last a month per pound now lasted at most twenty days. The Wang family’s husband asked him, “Aren’t you going to take some vegetable oil back? Do you want some sesame oil? It’s pressed from this year’s new sesame seeds—it’s very fragrant.”

Huo Ling paused at this, realizing that the sesame oil at home was running low, and they had long since finished the supply from the mountain. He had not restocked it earlier, thinking he wouldn’t be going up the mountain often during the winter.

Seeing that he was interested, Wang Fulang scooped out a spoonful for him to smell.

“Just tell me if it’s fragrant. And look at the color—so clear and bright. If you add a couple of drops to steamed eggs in the morning, both adults and children will love them.” 

“I trust your oil; I’ve been eating it since I was a child.”

Huo Ling asked him to measure out a pound for him, but since he hadn’t brought an extra oil flask, the Wang family’s husband gave him one. “Just wash it out when you’re done, and remember to bring it back to me next time.”

“Alright. I’ll be going to Bearded Ma’s place to pick up medicine in ten days. I’ll bring it back then.”

Mr. Wang didn’t mind when it was returned. His family sold oil, and their oil jars were scattered all over the place; he only went around reminding people to return them when he really had no more to spare.

After bringing the sesame oil home, he steamed three bowls of egg custard that very evening. Ye Suping and her daughter, along with Yan Qi, each had a bowl. The two men shared the portions meant for their wives and husbands, and that was their meal.

“Second Son, make sure to put the sesame oil away safely so the mice don’t steal it at night.”

After dinner, before going inside, Ye Suping reminded Huo Ling. Yan Qi asked, “Are there still mice out here in the winter?” He’d assumed they were like insects—they’d all disappear once it got cold.

“Any mice that can survive here are certainly more cold-resistant than those inside the Great Wall. They’re just fewer in number—not nonexistent.”

Huo Ling added, “Last winter, I even saw a dog running along the roadside with a mouse in its mouth. It darted away in the blink of an eye.”

Because of this, Huo Ling and Yan Qi spent quite some time searching the kitchen for a place to store the sesame oil. Finally, they cleared out the cupboard, placed the oil jar on the top shelf, and then locked it up.

After coming down the mountain, they went to town as usual to sell buns.

Yang Qingsheng had plenty of free time in the winter and often invited them to stop by his shop for a chat after they closed up shop.

Yan Qi and Xia Qingman hadn’t had many chances to meet in the past and weren’t very close, but after spending time together every few days recently, they’ve gradually become friends who can confide in each other.

During their ten days at the foot of the mountain, they didn’t set up their stall for two days due to snow, but on the remaining eight days, they sold over 800 buns.

But setting up a stall outside in the bitter cold was harder than they’d imagined. It was true that they could warm themselves by the stove, but whether standing or sitting, the cold eventually seeped into their bones after a while.

Yan Qi’s frostbite kept flaring up, so starting on the third day, Huo Ling stopped letting him wrap the buns and took over that task himself, while Yan Qi handled the cash register and bookkeeping.

The dough and fillings were already prepared, so having someone else take over didn’t affect the taste. At most, a regular customer might ask why Yan Qi wasn’t working, and upon learning it was because the weather was too cold and they were worried about his hands getting frostbitten, they’d praise him for being so considerate.

“It’s only right. If he suffers, I suffer too.”

Huo Ling noticed a gap in the pot after four buns were sold, so he quickly wrapped four more to fill it.

That day, when they went to Yang’s Umbrella Shop, Yang Qingsheng saw that the two of them had been outside all morning. Their scarves were damp with their breath, and the wind had turned the moisture into tiny ice crystals. He quickly ushered them inside to warm up.

After taking off their outer robes and settling down, Xia Qingman led Yan Qi to see the cotton jacket she had made for Yang Junxin. Meanwhile, Yang Qingsheng said to Huo Ling as they drank tea, “In the past, you only came down the mountain for the market on the first and fifteenth of the month. You’d stay for two or three hours at most, and even in the cold, you didn’t seem to mind. Now that you’re coming every day, are you really able to handle it? If you ask me, if it’s really too much, just come every other day. It doesn’t matter if you earn a little less for a day or two; otherwise, you’ll end up spending even more on medicine.”

Huo Ling had also been thinking this was a problem lately. After pondering for a while, he asked Yang Qingsheng, “Do you know of any smaller shopfronts in town? It doesn’t need to be too big—just enough to keep out the wind and snow, with room for a stove out front and space inside for two people to sit.”

Yang Qingsheng caught on to his plan and clicked his tongue. “Shops that small are hard to come by. Even if there are any, most are already rented out. Besides, there are two difficulties. The first is how you plan to rent it—since the bun business only runs during the snowy season, I’ll give you six months’ rent, but what about the other six months? The other problem is that your ‘Temple Street buns’ have already made a name for themselves. If you want to rent a shop, it’ll have to be near the City God Temple.”

“That’s the most crucial point!”

Yang Qingsheng tapped the corner of the table lightly, reminding Huo Ling, “Don’t forget, once you rent a shop, you’ll be considered legitimate merchants and will have to pay market fees and business taxes. Even for a shop the size of a sesame seed, those two combined will take up twenty percent of your profits—meaning for every tael you earn, you’ll have to hand over two liang. Add in the monthly rent, and you can figure out for yourself how much will be left.”

Huo Ling pinched the bridge of his nose and mused for a moment before saying, “It’s still profitable, just not by much.”

Just a moment ago, he’d wondered if renting a shop might allow them to offer two more varieties of buns to attract more customers. But then he realized that with just the two of them—Huo Ling and Yan Qi—and their four hands, they simply wouldn’t be able to keep up with two additional flavors. They couldn’t very well hire extra help, as that would mean another expense.

“So you’d better think it through carefully.”

Yang Qingsheng pressed his fingers to his temples and said, “I’ve done the math before. If business is good, street vendors make the most money—they don’t pay business taxes or rent—they just need to invest some capital in inventory. Look at Old Lady Yan, who sells mouse glue traps. She’s been at it her whole life and has sold enough to buy two houses in town. I’m considered a shopkeeper out there, but I’m still struggling to make ends meet, living under someone else’s roof.”

Huo Ling agreed with this point. He and Yan Qi had done the math before: a single snow season could bring in over ten taels of net profit. If they ran the business year-round, saving up for a house would indeed be no problem in the long run.

However, while city folk might use their money to buy houses, country folk tended to spend theirs on livestock, farmland, or building their own new homes.

“Don’t you think the people on the street envy you? You’re sheltered from the wind and snow.” 

“Oh, well, running a business has its own set of challenges.”

Yang Qingsheng pointed at the ground beneath his feet. “If the rent on this shop weren’t so stubbornly high, I’d be losing money sooner or later.” 

“Didn’t you say you’d eventually save up enough to buy the shop outright? Is that still the plan?”

Yang Qingsheng didn’t deny it. “We’ll take it slow. When the time comes, I’ll just downsize to a smaller one. Otherwise, I barely make a profit each year, and I still have to hand over a chunk of it as rent. Just thinking about it makes my heart tremble.”

At least for now, buying the shop outright didn’t seem realistic. With their minds full of worries, Huo Ling and Yan Qi left the umbrella shop.

As they passed a restaurant, Huo Ling saw a young man from a wealthy family holding a handwarmer in both hands, being helped by an attendant as he slowly settled into a heated palanquin draped with thick cotton curtains. He thought to himself, How could I have forgotten about this?

He immediately led Yan Qi through a few twists and turns until they found a shop selling hand warmers, intending to pick one out to take with them.

“Why buy one of these? They’re ridiculously expensive, and they require charcoal to burn.”

Yan Qi raised his hand. “I have a handwarmer my sister-in-law made. It’s warm enough.”

“That’s not the same. When you’re sitting, you can tuck the handwarmer against your chest. As long as the charcoal inside doesn’t go out, it keeps giving off heat. A handwarmer is like a fur coat—it only blocks the wind.”

Yan Qi looked at the rows of brass hand warmers, still reluctant to let Huo Ling spend the money.

“We have the oven we use to bake flatbreads—isn’t that just as warm? Besides, this one requires fine charcoal.” 

“But you can’t carry that big oven around. Listen to me—just buy one.”

Hearing this, the shop assistant finally managed to interject.

“Sir, don’t worry about the price. Think about how long it will last. This isn’t food—it doesn’t disappear once you’ve used it. I’m not just bragging, but if you take one of our hand warmers home, it’ll last you eight or ten years without breaking. If you break that down by day, it won’t even cost you a single cash.”

He added, “Our wood comes from beyond the Great Wall; fine charcoal isn’t much more expensive than coarse charcoal.”

With that, he picked up a handwarmer at random and tapped it twice with his fingers.

“Take a look at the materials we’ve used here—they’re really solid. It’s not like those thin copper-plated ones that turn pitch black from soot in no time. You can use this all day long, and it won’t even burn through a single catty of fine charcoal.”

Huo Ling asked the price and learned that the cheapest one cost eight hundred wen, and it even came with a cloth cover to protect your hands from the heat.

“Actually, it’s no different from the more expensive ones—just a bit simpler, without all the fancy decorations.”

Copper items aren’t cheap to begin with, and after some haggling, he managed to knock the price down by only twenty wen. Huo Ling paid the bill and used the twenty wen to buy a pound of fine charcoal.

On the way back, they put the handwarmer to use. A gentle warmth spread from his lower abdomen throughout his body. Yan Qi and Huo Ling, who was driving the cart, sat back-to-back. Partway through the journey, he reached into the handwarmer, pulled out his hand, and touched Huo Ling’s cheek. “Is it warm?”

“It’s warm.”

He said it with certainty, not forgetting to brush his nose against the ger’s finger.

His fingers were warm, while the tip of his nose was cool as snow. After withdrawing his hand, a smile lingered on Yan Qi’s lips as he moved a little closer to Huo Ling.