When he was about three or four li from the county town, Wang An saw an old man in ragged clothes walking ahead of him, carrying a cloth bag on his shoulder.
The bag wasn't large; it looked like a bag of grain, weighing perhaps forty or fifty jin.
Wang An drove his horse carriage forward and called out from a distance
"Old gentleman, want a lift for a few steps?"
In the countryside, if you encountered a horse carriage while walking, you could proactively ask for a ride. As long as the carriage wasn't heavily loaded, the driver would absolutely not refuse to take you.
Conversely, when driving a carriage and encountering someone on foot, the carriage owner would generally take the initiative to invite the pedestrian to ride along for a while.
Such things were extremely normal; it had nothing to do with whether they knew each other, nor was it a matter of social obligation.
Thus, upon hearing Wang An's shout, the old man stopped in his tracks, turned around with a beaming smile, and said as Wang An approached
"A lift then? Hahaha... thanks, young man."
When he reached the old man, Wang An brought the horse to a halt and said with a smile
"Heading to the county town too, Grandpa?"
Once the old man had placed the cloth bag on the carriage and climbed aboard, he responded with a smile
"Mm-hmm, thinking of selling this bit of sorghum to buy some candy for my grandson, hahaha..."
In this era, in the northern regions including the Northeast, "sticky rice" referred to yellow millet.
Zongzi, rice cakes, or bean buns were basically made from yellow millet or flour ground from it; and before yellow millet was husked, it was called sorghum.
Just as rice is called paddy before husking and millet is called grain, it was the same principle.
In the south, sticky rice was Jiangmi, also called glutinous rice, which served as the raw material for zongzi and rice cakes.
This was similar to how the north grew sugar beets while the south grew sugarcane—a complete regional difference between the North and South.
The moment Wang An heard that the bag contained sorghum—and that it was for sale—his eyes lit up.
In this era, to increase grain yield—or more accurately, weight—the vast majority of production brigades planted corn.
While corn had a high yield, it wasn't great as a staple food because, in the rural areas of this time, the husks weren't removed, making it quite unpleasant to eat.
However, refined grains like white rice and white flour did not have high yields in this era, to the point where even city dwellers couldn't afford to eat them at every meal.
Because of this, yellow millet became a favorite.
Whether it was rice cakes or bean buns, they were considered absolute delicacies.
Although Wang An wasn't short on money and could afford yellow millet, it wasn't something one ate constantly, so he had never thought to buy it during his previous trips to the county town.
Wang An asked the old man with a smile
"Old gentleman, how much do you plan to sell this sorghum for per jin?"
Hearing the question, the old man frowned and said
"I went to the grain station yesterday to ask. They sell yellow millet for sixteen cents a jin and sorghum for eleven cents. Those bastards only buy it for nine and a half cents. Young man, my sorghum is plump and full, not a bit worse than what they sell. I'm thinking of selling it for ten cents a jin, making it a bit cheaper than the grain station. Do you think it'll sell well?"
It was clear that while the old man was angry that the grain station's buying and selling prices differed by one and a half cents, he was still quite anxious, seemingly worried that his sorghum wouldn't sell.
Wang An thought for a moment and then said
"Old gentleman, why don't you sell this sorghum to me? Have you weighed it yet? How many jin in total?"
The old man asked in confusion
"You want it? This is a heaping dou, at least over fifty jin. Can you take that much?"
Wang An smiled. "I'm thinking of planting some sorghum this year, so this saves me from buying seeds."
Hearing that Wang An wanted to use the sorghum as seed, the old man immediately beamed
"As seed? That works! That works perfectly! My sorghum yields four or five hundred jin every year."
When the old man said "four or five hundred jin," he meant the yield per mu of land, but locals often spoke concisely.
Wang An agreed and said as he took out his money
"Sorghum is 'nang'—it doesn't press the scale—so a dou is only about forty-some jin. If yours is heaping, it should be around fifty jin. Anyway, however much it is, I won't let you lose out. I'll just give you five yuan and we'll call it even. Does that work, Old gentleman?"
The reason Wang An explained so much was to make things clear upfront.
In the Northeast during this era, when villagers traded grain, besides using scales and "jin" as a measure, they also used "sheng," "dou," and "dan" (shi).
One dan equaled ten dou, and one dou equaled ten sheng; however, these three were units of volume.
It should be noted that these "sheng," "dou," and "dan" were different from those of ancient times.
In ancient times, one sheng of grain was about 1.25 jin, and one dou was about 12.5 jin.
But in the Northeast of this era, one sheng of grain was about 5 jin, and one dou was about 50 jin.
However, the "one dou is about 50 jin" referred to rice or flour.
If it was unhulled grain, such as sorghum, millet, paddy, wheat, or broomcorn, one dou was about 40 jin.
The reason for saying "about" was that for the same volume of one dou, the weight varied completely depending on the type of grain.
For example, a dou of millet was heavier than a dou of rice, and a dou of rice was heavier than a dou of corn kernels.
The reason Wang An emphasized "around 50 jin" was that for unhulled grain, even if it was heaped over the top of the dou, the extra "heap" could never reach 10 jin.
Furthermore, sorghum was different from other grains; its surface was exceptionally smooth, almost slippery to the touch. Even when heaped in a dou, it couldn't pile very high, as the excess would simply slide off.
Hearing Wang An's words, the old man immediately became flushed and exclaimed
"I guarantee it's 50 jin! I know this stuff is 'nang,' so I added an extra sheng into the bag!"
"Nang" meant having a large volume but a light weight.
Seeing the old man's reaction, Wang An was momentarily stunned. Primarily, although Wang An had been reborn, he sometimes viewed the people of this era through the lens of people from the future.
He had to remember that most people in this era still operated on a foundation of honesty; things like cheating on weights and measures were rare.
So, as Wang An handed over the five yuan, he smiled and said
"Mm-hmm, anyway, I'm trusting you, Old gentleman."
Seeing the money, the old man said happily
"I'm from the nearby Yuliang Village. When you get home, put it on the scale and weigh it; I guarantee it'll be more, not less."
After handing over the money, Wang An took out some cigarettes, gave one to the old man, put one in his own mouth, and began to chat idly with him.
(End of Chapter)