Chapter 14: Profitable Business Without Capital

While Grandma Li was inside tidying up, Ji Xiang quickly filled her family’s rice basket and flour sacks with freshly milled rice and fine white flour. Reflecting on her previous haul from the Wealth Base, she realized it had been foolish to bring nothing but sweet potatoes the first time. The granary there had both rice and flour—surely she should have chosen the more valuable, scarce goods.

By the time Grandma Li emerged with the blacksmith shop’s keys, Ji Xiang had already written a notice to rent out the shop. Early that morning, Grandma had packed up some knickknacks to sell at the market, but at her granddaughter’s insistence to sell rice, she reluctantly brought along her sewing odds and ends, hoping perhaps she could sell some old stock while selling rice.

Just as the two were about to lock up and head to the blacksmith’s, a big truck screeched to a halt at the roadside. A man jumped down and strode up to their little shop. “Do you have any Xingqiu sweet potatoes for sale?”

Grandma Li shook her head. The shop only stocked toilet paper and lighters… but before she could finish, the man turned away.

Ji Xiang’s mind raced. What luck—she’d carted out so many sweet potatoes last night, but her family could never finish them all, and now with rice in hand, who would bother eating sweet potatoes?

“Uncle, Uncle, I have sweet potatoes to sell!”

“Are they Xingqiu sweet potatoes?”

“Absolutely authentic!”

Although she hadn’t actually tasted the sweet potatoes from the Wealth Base yet, judging by the golden rice she’d eaten that morning, she was confident the sweet potatoes would be just as exceptional. Exaggeration wasn’t taxed, after all, and surely the uncle wouldn’t bite into one raw to test her claim.

“Where are the sweet potatoes?” Grandma Li looked puzzled.

Ji Xiang flashed her a toothy grin. This was a rare opportunity! She quickly slid open the wooden boards to the shop, leading the man to the pile of sweet potatoes stacked in the corner of their home.

“No scale?” The man was clearly satisfied with the quality, pulling out his wallet as he tried to estimate the value of the heap. Ji Xiang hadn’t expected she’d need a scale to sell things—this might be an issue when selling rice too. Thinking quickly, she decided to price them by the pile.

Upon hearing the price, the man handed her the cash, fetched a burlap sack from his truck, and without asking for help, swiftly packed up the entire heap, slung it over his shoulder, and drove off with a roar.

Ji Xiang suspected she had sold them too cheaply. Grandma Li, having missed her chance due to her slow legs, sighed deeply—her granddaughter had already quoted a price, and although she had no idea where the sweet potatoes had come from, she was sure they’d taken a loss on the sale.

“Don’t worry, just think of it as advertising—a taste test! Next time he comes, I’ll raise the price.”

“There’ll be a next time?” Grandma Li’s voice trembled.

They posted the rental notice on the iron board by the door and hung the rice sale sign outside. Several sacks of rice were laid out in a neat row—sold by the sack or by the pound. In less than five minutes, Ji Xiang had mapped out her sales strategy.

No wonder business acumen ran in the family—the Li children were all born traders.

Grandma Li arranged her sewing items beside the rice sacks, pulled up a little stool behind them, and watched as more and more people and carts passed by.

People glanced as they walked past, then moved on. The entire morning went by without a single person asking about the rice, let alone buying any.

How odd. Was there something wrong with the rice? Wasn’t it fragrant enough?

Opening a sack, the rice inside was snowy white, the long grains glossy and aromatic, the short ones plump and buttery, each kernel glistening. The fine white flour exuded a natural wheat scent.

“Grandma Li, why are you sitting here?” Aunt Chen, cradling an armful of large baskets, walked over from the market and stared in surprise at Grandma Li sitting in front of the blacksmith’s shop.

Grandma Li quickly got up. “Aunt Chen, you’re back early today!”

“There were so many people at the market, my baskets of bean sprouts sold out in no time. I’ll have to prepare more beans tonight and bring extra tomorrow. What are you doing here?”

Aunt Chen’s gaze lingered on the row of rice sacks at the door, her eyes wide. As a town resident, she always bought rice with her grain ration at the state store—she’d never seen rice of such quality.

“Ji Xiang’s classmate’s relatives asked us to sell it for them. Not a grain sold all morning. I don’t know how we’ll explain to them,” Grandma Li said, casting a worried glance at the rice sacks, then down at her own sewing goods. If only she could go sell her wares at the market—someone would surely buy her insoles and thread. But her granddaughter had promised to help, so she could only sit and fret.

“Oh, this place is for rent? Han the Blacksmith quit?”

“Yes, he went to his son’s in the county and asked me to look after the shop. If we can rent it out, all the better,” Grandma Li replied, echoing Ji Xiang’s words.

Aunt Chen’s family was about to open a tofu shop. She wanted a fixed place to sell, but her husband insisted their daughter push a cart through the streets, which An Ning refused to do. The whole family was embroiled in conflict. If she could take over the blacksmith shop, she could make tofu and sell bean sprouts from dawn till dusk. She could even clear out their shed and keep chickens and ducks.

She inquired about the rent. Grandma Li, never having rented a shop before, was at a loss for the going rate and called Ji Xiang out.

Ji Xiang was in the kitchen preparing lunch. The kerosene stove was sputtering as the rice porridge began to bubble. Lifting the lid, the rich aroma made her mouth water.

She scooped up a spoonful, savoring the taste, when Grandma Li called. Not wanting to set down her meal, she answered with a mouthful of porridge, quickly swallowing before putting down the spoon. She heard Aunt Chen’s approaching footsteps.

The porridge smelled so good that Aunt Chen, after lifting the lid to take a sniff, immediately decided to buy a sack of rice. When told it was five yuan a sack, she thought she’d misheard and asked Ji Xiang again. Certain that twenty jin of rice cost just five yuan, she promptly bought four sacks, pulling out a wad of small bills from her waistband and handing twenty yuan to Grandma Li.

“I thought rice this good would be so expensive! Once I finish this batch, I’ll buy more. My family eats at least a hundred jin a month. Our ration coupons aren’t enough, and it’s much pricier elsewhere—this is perfect!”

“It’s just consignment from Ji Xiang’s classmate’s family. After this batch, who knows if there’ll be more…” Grandma Li felt her granddaughter had sold the rice too cheaply, and a knot of worry tightened in her brow.

When it came to the rental price, Ji Xiang was firm—her quoted price was Han the Blacksmith’s bottom line. Take it or leave it. Aunt Chen hesitated, then untied her nylon money pouch and handed over fifty yuan as a deposit.

In the blink of an eye, they’d earned seventy yuan from Aunt Chen alone!

Little chubby one, sister’s bicycle fund is as good as set.