The preliminary preparations were complete. They could start drying tomorrow, but they were short on fresh kelp.
Xie Yushu told He Chao to take Aunt Hong San from the afternoon through tomorrow to purchase kelp from the villagers. She handed him a bag full of copper coins.
He Chao took the money pouch and agreed without hesitation. He’d been following Third Aunt to dry kelp lately and had gained some understanding of what constituted good-quality kelp.
“Don’t worry, Boss. I’ll go this afternoon. There are quite a few families in the village with kelp.” He guaranteed it.
Xie Yushu trusted his and Third Aunt’s judgment. She went back home first to have lunch with Su Chi.
·
After noon, the sun shifted westward, slightly dispelling the morning chill and making people feel lazy and warm.
Under the big locust tree at the village entrance, it had become lively.
Beneath the tree stood He Chao, Aunt Hong San, and Xiu He. In front of them was a large square table. On the table sat Aunt Hong San’s big scale, a pile of hemp ropes, a pair of large black scissors, and several oversized baskets on the ground.
Xiu He had volunteered to come help. His mother had taught in town before she passed, so he could read some common characters. Plus, he had a sharp mind and decent arithmetic skills—he could keep the accounts for them.
He Chao’s eyes lit up when he heard this. He and Third Aunt were both rough folks who couldn’t read or keep accounts—he hadn’t expected Xiu He to be so capable.
After lunch, he’d gone door to door to notify the families in the village who regularly harvested kelp, telling them to bring their best kelp to gather under the big tree at the village entrance after noon—their boss was buying.
Now, the crowd under the big tree was buzzing with excitement, all discussing this purchase. Normally, no one would set up a table and buy kelp on such a large scale.
Some brought their kelp in their arms, others in baskets, and the more well-off came with crude wheelbarrows. It was all fresh, water-laden kelp—dripping wet, leaving long trails of moisture on the dirt road.
Aunt Hong San had a loud voice. She bellowed for everyone to line up properly, saying that anyone who didn’t queue up fairly wouldn’t have their kelp bought.
Hearing this, everyone quickly formed a line, afraid their boss wouldn’t accept their goods.
He Chao and Third Aunt were well-known to everyone in the village. Now they learned that the two were working under a boss who specialized in the kelp trade.
First in line was a tall, sturdy auntie. She pushed her wheelbarrow, stacked high with layers of kelp she’d harvested early that morning. She’d been planning to sell it wholesale at the ferry, but when she heard Chao-ge’er was buying kelp, she’d wolfed down a few bites and rushed over first, afraid she’d miss out.
“Third Aunt, Chao-ge’er, take a look at my kelp. How is it?” The auntie said confidently, pointing to the pile.
Aunt Hong San bent down and patiently sorted through it, examining each piece carefully and feeling it with her hands. It was indeed very good. The kelp must have been processed before she came—what remained in the wheelbarrow were all thick, fleshy pieces.
She nodded to He Chao. He Chao took it to be weighed, while Xiu He recorded the weight and price, then helped He Chao tie it up with hemp rope and toss it into the large basket.
The auntie had brought twenty-three catties of kelp. At He Chao’s price of three wen per catty, that came to sixty-nine wen.
The auntie received the heavy pouch of nearly seventy copper coins, her face beaming with joy. She hadn’t expected the purchase price to be this high.
Seeing that pile of copper coins, everyone’s eyes turned red with envy, all of them astonished.
Kelp was cheap—usually sold for one or two wen per catty. Yet Chao-ge’er’s boss was buying at three wen per catty!
To them, this was indeed a fair and good price. But they soon learned that with a higher price came higher standards.
Next was Uncle Huang Wu from the village. He carried his kelp on his shoulder, and when it was his turn, he plopped it onto the table, splashing out some salty, fishy water.
“Chao-ge’er, take a look at mine.”
This time, there was no need for Third Aunt to examine it closely. He Chao could tell something was wrong at first glance.
“Uncle Wu, this won’t do.” He Chao picked up the top piece of kelp to show him. “The edges are too thin, the root parts are too tough, and some are broken. Our boss only wants the best, meatiest sections. We don’t accept broken ones.”
Uncle Wu Huang was stunned for a moment, then scratched his head: “So I should go back and trim them?”
Third Aunt handed him the large scissors: “Trim them right here. After you cut them, we’ll weigh them.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll cut them now.” Uncle Wu Huang took the scissors and went off to the side to trim according to Chao-ge’er’s boss’s requirements.
He Chao paused the kelp collection for now, thinking he’d better make the requirements clear to avoid chaos later.
“Everyone, quiet down, please.”
The crowd below all pricked up their ears and listened carefully.
He addressed the crowd: “Our boss said: no broken kelp, no stale kelp, no dirty kelp.”
After kelp was harvested, some people couldn’t be bothered to wash it, leaving the surface covered with sea creatures of all kinds—small crabs, barnacles, sand grit, various shells.
He Chao continued: “Our boss only wants the best parts of the kelp. No shriveled ones, no thin-fleshed ones, no edges or corners.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the people in line immediately lowered their heads and rifled through their baskets, checking whether the kelp they’d brought met the requirements.
They tossed out the ones that didn’t qualify. Some carried their kelp back home to sort it out. Others followed behind Uncle Wu Huang, waiting for their turn with the big scissors.
Some people in the crowd began to mutter:
“This Chao-ge’er’s boss really has high standards.”
“Sure, the purchase price is high, but they only want the good parts—they won’t take any bad ones.”
“Why would anyone in business take your junk? We can just keep the bad ones for ourselves to eat.”
“Even so, it’s still much better than letting them rot at home.”
“Exactly, exactly. If you think the standards are too high, don’t come—that just frees up space for the rest of us. Look how long this line is!”
Everyone knew that they could sell this much at Chao-ge’er’s place, but if they took it to the market or the ferry, customers bought by the catty and picked through everything. They could never sell in bulk that way. Coming here to sell meant real copper coins in hand.
Everyone realized this, so the number of people coming to sell kelp only grew. The line grew visibly longer as others who’d heard the news also rushed over.
He Chao and the others bought twenty catties, thirty catties—even one or two catties sold individually. As long as it was good, they’d take it all.
Those who handed over their kelp and received copper coins all wore smiles on their faces. They asked He Chao if he’d be back tomorrow.
Aunt Hong San had been drying kelp for many years and knew very well the weight ratio of fresh kelp to dried kelp.
Kelp had a high water content—generally, ten catties of fresh kelp would yield at most four catties of dried kelp. With that in mind, they needed to purchase a large quantity. Today’s haul still wasn’t enough.
“Yes, we’re buying. If any of you have more tomorrow, feel free to come—same place.” He Chao responded to them.
Xie Yushu had given He Chao a full five guan in copper coins. Calculating it out, that meant buying over 1,600 catties. There was no way they’d finish today—they’d need to come back tomorrow.
The line gradually shortened. Xiu He kept the accounts and tallied the numbers on the side, while He Chao handed out copper coins by the handful and tied up bundles of kelp to toss into the baskets. By the time the sun was about to set, the crowd had dispersed, and over a dozen baskets of kelp sat piled up like a small mountain under the tree.
Finally, they counted: this round they’d purchased 736 catties of fresh kelp—all weights after draining the water. They’d paid out two guan and two qian in copper coins, with over two guan left, which should be enough to finish tomorrow’s purchases.
The three of them couldn’t carry over seven hundred catties by themselves. He Chao borrowed an ox-cart, and they loaded the dozen or so baskets one by one, swaying their way back to the bluestone compound in the glow of the setting sun.
By the time they returned to the compound, Father He called out to them to come eat.
“You must all be exhausted. There’s food on the table that the boss sent over for us.”
Father He had set up a dining table in the middle of the courtyard, with six chairs arranged around it.
On the table were twelve saucy meat buns wrapped in oil paper, twelve vegetarian buns, six red bean buns, and six tea eggs.
In the center was a large bowl of meat soup that Father He had made. Knowing they’d been doing heavy labor all afternoon, he’d been generous with the meat slices—he wanted them to have a full meal.
Ever since their family had started working with Xie Yushu, their days had gotten much better, and they could afford to buy meat now.
Aside from the soup, everything else on the table had been brought by Xie Yushu when she’d come by in the afternoon. She’d dropped them off and gone home.
The four adults carried the kelp into the courtyard, washed their hands, and sat down at the table.
The two children had already been sitting properly, waiting for them.
After an afternoon of hard work, one bite of the thin-skinned, generously filled saucy meat buns swept away all their fatigue. They were all stunned by the incredible flavor in their hands.
They’d never eaten such delicious buns before. Each of them held their big bun and ate with oil dripping down their chins and fragrance filling their mouths. Xie Yushu had calculated the numbers perfectly—each person got the same amount of buns, and after dividing them up, everyone ate from their own plate.
Not just the meat buns—the vegetarian ones were delicious too. They really couldn’t figure out how the person who made these buns did it.
And the perfectly infused five-spice eggs were something else entirely.
Xiu Wei ate slowly. He was small—after drinking a bowl of soup that Brother He Chao had ladled for him and eating one big, delicious saucy meat bun, his belly was round and full, and he could barely eat another bite. But the flavor of this egg was just too good. He kept nibbling at the tea-brown, crackled egg, savoring every bite as if he didn’t want to finish it too quickly.
He held up the egg with its marbled pattern to show Xiu He: “Brother, it’s delicious.”
Xiu He looked at his younger brother: “Good boy, you eat more. I’ll give you mine too.”
Xiu Wei shook his head and told his brother to eat it himself.
After everyone had finished eating and cleaned up, they each headed home.
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