Chapter 17: Hawking

Zhu Pingchuan led Zhu Ping'an out of the apothecary. Looking back at the shop, he still felt it was unbelievable, as if he were in a dream.

When the two returned to Zhu's father's stall and mentioned it, Father Zhu was also stunned out of his wits. It wasn't until he saw the 120 wen lying in the back basket and the two silver ingots in his youngest son's pocket that he finally believed this absurd occurrence.

Father Zhu counted the copper coins once to confirm there were indeed 120 wen, then hurriedly wrapped them in a piece of tattered cloth, placed them in the basket, and covered them with a bamboo lid to finish.

"Make sure you keep those silver ingots tucked away safely," Father Zhu instructed repeatedly. In the eyes of a farmer, two silver ingots amounted to a significant sum of money.

"Mhm, mhm," Zhu Ping'an nodded repeatedly as well.

Looking at his youngest son, Father Zhu truly didn't know what to say. This boy's luck was simply too good; the wild flowers he had stumbled upon by chance actually turned out to be sellable.

Zhu Ping'an looked at his father's stall and noticed that it seemed they had only sold about four or five items; nothing else had been sold yet.

After staying for a while, he realized why his father couldn't sell anything.

Father Zhu's selling method relied entirely on fate. He didn't shout to hawk his goods, nor did he actively solicit customers; he simply waited for people to come to him.

Before Zhu Ping'an had transmigrated, he had also gone out to set up street stalls at night to sell things like socks and gloves to earn living expenses. Setting up a stall was all about how well one could talk; it wasn't an exhibition, and even exhibitions had commentators.

"Delicacies from the mountains, delicious and inexpensive! Fresh and beautiful mountain delicacies, don't pass them by!"

The child's voice was pleasant, and being a likable little boy, it was quite attractive.

Both Father Zhu and the eldest brother, Zhu Pingchuan, felt a bit awkward and somewhat embarrassed.

Father Zhu asked Zhu Ping'an how he knew how to hawk goods.

Zhu Ping'an answered naturally, saying he had just heard people shouting like that on the way to the apothecary and decided to try it out.

Children are at an age where they love to mimic others, so Father Zhu felt relieved.

"Bamboo weaves! Beautiful and useful! You won't lose out if you buy them, and you won't be cheated if you use them!" Seeing people gathering around, Zhu Ping'an felt as if he saw countless silver coins rushing toward him, and his hawking became even more energetic.

As people gradually crowded around, Father Zhu naturally stepped forward to attend to them.

Of course, some people teased Zhu Ping'an.

"Kid, how good are your bamboo weaves?"

"Can your mountain delicacies refine immortal pills?"

"What if I get cheated after buying them?"

To these jests, Zhu Ping'an naturally utilized his advantage as a child, answering with the bluntness of an innocent.

"Very good, very good!"

"Salted eggs are pickled, not refined! And as for the pills, I don't know if they work—I haven't seen my mother pickle salted duck eggs yet!"

"If you get cheated, you can come to my house! My house is at the west end of Xiahe Village, and my father's name is Zhu Shouyi!"

While it seemed the child was innocently revealing the family's information, people thought, *What a silly kid*, but at the same time, they felt much more at ease. *I know where you live; if the goods are bad, I can go find you.* Consequently, more people were willing to buy.

Most people bought the necessary bamboo weaves, and some even bought small ones to entertain their children. However, the mountain delicacies remained ignored because most people were poor; they had eaten enough wild vegetables and bamboo shoots at home. Besides, if they wanted to eat them, they would go to the mountains to pick them themselves. Thus, there was no interest in the delicacies.

Father Zhu was so busy collecting money that he could hardly keep up, and Zhu Pingchuan helped by using straw rope to bundle the bamboo weaves together for easy carrying.

After watching for a while, Zhu Ping'an grasped the general prices and helped collect money and hand out items, working with great enthusiasm.

Because, it was all money.

Before long, the bamboo weaves were almost sold out, thanks in part to people's tendency to follow the crowd. Normally, even with shouting, they wouldn't have sold so many so quickly.

The onlookers mostly dispersed, leaving only a bamboo basket and a broom at the stall. Of course, the mountain delicacies still hadn't sold.

As for the rabbit skin, Father Zhu planned to deliver it to the grocery store before leaving. He was a regular customer there; although he didn't deliver much each time, he went once every so often.

Just as he was worrying about how to sell the mountain delicacies, someone actually came to ask the price.

The newcomer was a steward from a large clan in town. The old matriarch of the clan was about to celebrate her sixtieth birthday, and the main wife was organizing a banquet, wanting to prepare dishes that the family members hadn't eaten much of. She had assigned the procurement task to the steward.

The steward had circled the market twice without finding anything and was feeling frustrated when he suddenly heard a crisp child's voice.

"Delicacies from the mountains, delicious and inexpensive! Fresh and beautiful mountain delicacies, don't pass them by..."

The steward intended to buy, but too many people were buying the bamboo weaves, so he waited until they left before squeezing in.

"Brother, how are these mountain delicacies being sold?" the steward stepped forward to ask.

Father Zhu had never sold wood ear mushrooms or bamboo shoots before; he had always picked them for personal consumption. This time, they had picked more, and since money was tight at home, his grandmother had suggested they try selling them.

For a moment, Father Zhu didn't know what price to set, so he simply said, "They were all picked at home. If you like them, just give whatever you think is appropriate."

*Good grief.*

*Is this how you do business?!*

Zhu Ping'an almost wanted to kneel before his father. Telling someone to "give whatever they think is appropriate" was a recipe for losing money until they went bankrupt.

"Hmm, how about this? I see you aren't having an easy time, and I happen to need these. Let's count these mushrooms and bamboo shoots together; I'll give you forty wen, alright? Additionally, I'll pay for that bamboo basket to hold these delicacies," the steward cleared his throat and said to Father Zhu with a smile.

Father Zhu felt this price was quite decent, and his expression shifted.

Zhu Ping'an, however, felt this steward was cunning. It was obvious he was pleasantly surprised by the delicacies, yet he was only offering forty wen. If sold to a restaurant, the price would at least double.

Fearing his father would nod in agreement, Zhu Ping'an chimed in from the side, acting exactly like a child who speaks without much logic: "My dad, my brother, and I spent a whole day climbing the mountain just to pick this much! Do you know how big the mountains are? And the bamboo shoots are buried underground! These wood ears are high up in the trees! It's very tiring!"

"How about this, I'll add another ten wen," the steward thought this chubby little boy was a bit difficult to deal with. He glanced sideways at Father Zhu, calculated in his head, and continued, "Not many people in town buy these things. I'm only here because my master is holding a birthday banquet. I'll give you fifty wen for the delicacies, and ten wen for the bamboo basket and the broom together. That's sixty wen in total. I really can't go any higher than that."

Father Zhu found it incredible. His youngest son had said just one sentence, and the steward had added ten wen and even bought up the remaining bamboo weaves.

*Fine, this is more than fine,* was Father Zhu's inner thought.

"Okay, okay," Father Zhu nodded repeatedly.

Although it was a bit less than expected, since Father Zhu had agreed, Zhu Ping'an fell silent.