Chapter 17: Earning Just Three Cents per Stick Summer evenings were the only time of day when things cooled down. Qian Qing lived on the third floor; the daylight was excellent, but at night heat gathered inside the room, so she had to open the windows for a while to let it disperse. After dinner, everyone in the compound came out. The adults clustered together, fanning themselves with palm-leaf fans and chatting idly, while the children ran wild in small groups, spinning tops, jumping rubber bands, playing knucklebones… Zhou Hao enjoyed a good reputation at the factory. Though Qian Qing was now considered a "private vendor,"

she merely sold popsicles and was especially mindful of keeping proper boundaries—selling cheap popsicles to everyone every day. So, apart from a few who hadn't quite adjusted their thinking, most people treated Qian Qing kindly. She was also articulate, never letting conversations stall. The only topic she wouldn't answer was how much money she made in a day; otherwise, she could engage with anything. When Wang Hua returned home from work, he happened upon Qian Qing sitting beneath the corridor-style building, chatting after her meal at the canteen. Night had fallen. Qian Qing wore a beige dress, her hair draped over her shoulders, her eyes bright.

"I heard someone over at Building Four bought a television—a Panda brand. The picture is crystal clear. Everyone in that whole building goes over there in the evenings to watch."

"When will someone in our building buy one? Then we can all get our fill."

"Well, why don't you ask Qian Qing? If anyone in this building can afford it, it's got to be her."

Qian Qing remained unruffled; she didn't take such sour remarks to heart. Still, the topic of televisions sparked genuine interest.

"When they bought their TV, how did they set up the antenna?"

"They got someone to help pull it up to the roof. That whole building is lively now; every evening people gather in the corridor on that floor—it's like a classroom full of kids."

… Wang Hua couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment. How did Zhou Hao manage to land all the good fortune? Such a beautiful wife, capable of earning money and skilled at dealing with people. If it were anyone else who'd made so much in just a few days, half the building would be green with envy. But Qian Qing was adept: she gave away the profits from dozens of popsicles and, with sweet words, maintained good relations with those around her. No one strikes a smiling face, so now no one could find fault with her. Then he thought of his own fool of a wife. She looked sharp, yet was stubborn as could be. Asked to build relationships with neighbors, she would only lower her head and stay silent. Don't think he hadn't noticed! She simply looked down on the matrons and wives in the building. Where did she get that attitude?

Most of the time she was timid and meek, yet she carried herself with an air of superiority, as if no one was as clever as she. Fuming, Wang Hua returned home. His mother was muddle-headed and had a poor reputation in the compound. He had hoped to marry a sharp-witted woman who could improve his family's standing. Instead? Their household was a mess, inviting ridicule. His mother spent all day huddled with a few old women gossiping, while his wife hid upstairs and never even stepped out. Arriving home, Wang Hua kicked off his shoes straight under the bed. Nothing went right! Only after dinner did Wan Zhenzhen mention that she had gone out to sell popsicles today. She had expected Wang Hua to explode with anger. But after waiting and waiting, no roar came. Glancing again, she saw a complicated expression on Wang Hua's face. After a long pause, he finally replied, "If you want to go, go. Just one condition: don't sell within the compound."

As long as she didn't embarrass him in front of his eyes, he could tolerate it. Wan Zhenzhen's words had struck a chord. If Qian Qing could do it, why couldn't Wan Zhenzhen? Wan Zhenzhen might not be clever, but what brilliance did selling popsicles require? Wasn't it just buying popsicles and pushing a cart to sell them? He refused to believe Wan Zhenzhen could botch something so simple. Go ahead, then. There was no reason Zhou Hao's family should hog all the good fortune. Wang Hua even pulled ten yuan from his pocket and handed it to Wan Zhenzhen.Wan Zhenzhen's chest swelled with boundless ambition, as if she could already see herself raking in huge profits, with everyone in the compound revolving around her while completely ignoring Qian Qing.

The next day, when stocking up on popsicles, Wan Zhenzhen acted with extraordinary bravado: "Give me forty salted popsicles—ten red bean, ten mung bean, ten orange, ten grape—and another twenty milk popsicles."

This brought her total order to a hundred popsicles, filling her cart to the brim. Noticing her large purchase, the clerk struck up a conversation.

Before long, Wan Zhenzhen proudly revealed her plan to sell right outside the No. 1 Staff Primary School. The clerk cautiously asked, "Isn't there already a popsicle stall outside the No. 1 Staff Primary School?"

Wan Zhenzhen waved her hand magnanimously: "So what? I'll just sell cheaper than her! We're all businesspeople; who can stop others from doing business? If she can't sell as well as me, that's simply because her skills aren't up to par."

The clerk fell silent… Was this woman foolish? The other vendor sold cheaply because she operated a fixed stall with high volume. How many popsicles could Wan Zhenzhen possibly fit in her cart? Engaging in a price war like this—the other vendor could afford to lower prices, but how long could Wan Zhenzhen sustain it? When Qian Qing arrived to stock up later, the clerk hesitated briefly before finally reminding her: "A woman came earlier today and bought quite a lot of popsicles."

Qian Qing pondered for a moment and immediately knew who it could be—none other than Wan Zhenzhen.

"Give me two hundred salted popsicles, one hundred red bean, one hundred mung bean, fifty orange, fifty grape, fifty milk, plus ten milk ice cream bars."

Normally, her noon orders were smaller than her afternoon ones because unsold afternoon stock could be pushed back to sell in the apartment building, whereas unsold noon stock meant pure loss. Compared to yesterday's noon order, this quantity differed only by a hundred fewer salted popsicles. She understood exactly what Wan Zhenzhen was attempting, but Wan Zhenzhen had overlooked one crucial point: their scales of operation were entirely different. Even if Wan Zhenzhen tried to steal business, she could at most capture a hundred popsicles' worth. Qian Qing routinely ordered over a thousand popsicles daily; a hundred popsicles were merely a drop in the bucket for her. Sure enough, when children poured out at noon, Wan Zhenzhen was utterly triumphant, shouting at the top of her lungs: "Salted popsicles, eight fen each!"

"Red bean and mung bean, ten fen each!"

"Orange and grape, twenty fen each!"

"Milk popsicles, thirty fen each!" Qian Qing almost laughed in exasperation.

Each popsicle earned only three fen profit; had a donkey kicked Wan Zhenzhen in the head? These prices were incredibly attractive. Children surged toward Wan Zhenzhen's stall en masse, and even some kids originally queued at Qian Qing's stall turned to go to Wan Zhenzhen's. Only a few young boys, clutching their schoolbags with furrowed brows, remained lined up at Qian Qing's stall. Qian Qing asked them, "Why don't you buy the cheaper popsicles? My prices are still the same as yesterday's."

One little boy glared angrily in Wan Zhenzhen's direction and whispered, "I'm not going! She's a bad woman!"

He hadn't forgotten being scolded by her yesterday! That "bad woman"

was deliberately lowering prices today—who knew what malicious intentions she harbored! With fewer customers, Qian Qing relaxed considerably. Just as she had anticipated, Wan Zhenzhen's hundred popsicles sold out rapidly, and soon all the children flocked back to Qian Qing's small stall. Initially delighted at having stolen Qian Qing's business, Wan Zhenzhen now felt increasingly bitter upon seeing this. Qian Qing hadn't lowered her prices at all, still selling at the original rates, making Wan Zhenzhen feel as though she'd punched cotton. What infuriated her even more was that Qian Qing was still selling more than her! Gritting her teeth, Wan Zhenzhen resolved: this afternoon, she would order two full carts! She refused to believe Qian Qing could remain so composed! After selling out her popsicles and returning home, Qian Qing found a familiar figure waiting at her doorstep.

"Mom?"