Chapter 14, Xiao Han

Seven or eight minutes later, the tractor pulled into Shimen Station.

Zhang Zhiyong shouted loudly, "Four jiao per person for Shangwan Village, two jiao for New Village..."

Someone asked, "How much for a ride to Hengban Bridge?"

Zhang Zhiyong replied, "Uncle Zou, I'll charge you three jiao."

Uncle Zou, relying on his seniority to haggle, retorted, "Last time I rode with your father, it was only two jiao. Now that it's you, the price has gone up to three jiao? Are you robbing me?"

Zhang Zhiyong was quite easygoing. "Alright, Uncle, two jiao it is. You're elderly; I won't argue with you."

Having successfully negotiated a one-jiao discount, Uncle Zou pulled two small banknotes from his pocket and paid the fare.

Li Heng unloaded the rice and asked Zhang Zhiyong, "Why are you driving today? Where's your dad?"

While collecting money, Zhang Zhiyong grinned and said, "My two uncles and my brother-in-law came over, so the old man is busy playing cards with them. He sent me out to earn some pocket money."

Li Heng asked, "Do you get to keep all the money you make today?"

Zhang Zhiyong smacked his lips, looking incredibly smug. "Of course! Definitely! If I don't get the money, why the hell would I be out here? I’d rather be at home playing."

Tian Rune handed over a one-yuan note to pay for the ride.

Zhang Zhiyong jumped back as if startled and cried out, "Auntie, are you kidding me? Are you trying to embarrass me to death? Li Heng and I are brothers who share the same pair of pants. Believe me, if I dared to take your money, he’d beat me to death the moment he found out."

Tian Rune tried to push the money on him several times, but Zhang Zhiyong refused to budge, and eventually, she had to let it go.

Once the passengers had all left, Li Heng seized a moment when his mother wasn't looking and lowered his voice to say to Zhang Zhiyong, "I need to go to the post office to mail something. Lend me ten yuan."

Afraid that Comrade Tian Rune would see, Zhang Zhiyong turned his back with a tacit understanding. Without even counting, he quickly handed over a stack of bills and gestured lewdly toward the street on the left.

"There’s a newly opened noodle shop next door. Let me tell you, the owner is a widow. She’s got huge breasts and such a perky butt—she’s really something else. Come find me after you sell your rice, and we'll go eat together."

Li Heng asked instinctively, "Is it called Sister Chun’s Noodle Shop?"

Zhang Zhiyong blurted out, "Damn you! How did you know? Have you been there already? How come you didn't take me along for such a good thing?"

Li Heng lied smoothly, "No, I just remembered hearing your dad bragging about it."

Zhang Zhiyong nearly jumped. "Damn! That old bastard is trying to steal my thunder?"

Li Heng couldn't help but laugh out loud. He hadn't expected the dim-witted guy to hit the nail on the head. Based on his memories from his previous life, this Sister Chun was indeed his father's secret mistress.

The largest storefront in town was the Supply and Marketing Cooperative, and the loudest speakers were always the ones selling rat poison. As it neared eight o'clock, the crowd at the market grew, and the atmosphere gradually became lively.

At this time, the agricultural market was still unregulated, filled mostly with vendors selling clothes, shoes, and socks.

There was a designated area for selling rice next to the Agricultural Machinery Station. Whenever there was a market day, buyers and sellers would invariably gather there.

This wasn't the first time Tian Rune had sold rice, so she was very familiar with the place. After scanning the crowd, she quickly found an empty spot.

She used her right foot to sweep the large debris aside, expertly laid out a plastic sheet, and then called for her son to stack the four bags of rice neatly in a row. She folded the openings of the bags into circles so that passersby could see the quality of their rice at a glance.

At this moment, there were very few customers, but looking around, there were already at least twenty rice vendors, with more people arriving one after another carrying rice.

Because of the heavy rain, the mother and son had arrived a bit late and hadn't secured the best spot. Tian Rune took a secret look around, and the worry on her face deepened.

Li Heng asked in a low voice, "Mom, is the quality of the other families' rice that much better?"

Fearing she might be overheard, Tian Rune leaned in closer. "Several of them have rice that looks brighter than ours."

When the origin is the same, the quality of rice is generally determined by the variety, the precision of milling, and its freshness. For instance, there are differences in taste and stickiness between indica and japonica rice. Indica rice is thinner and stays separate and plump when cooked, while japonica rice is stickier, making it suitable for porridge and glutinous rice dishes. Milling precision is another critical factor; highly milled rice has better whiteness, integrity, and fewer impurities. As for freshness, it means exactly what it says: new rice is generally white, glossy, and fragrant, while old rice turns dull, loses its stickiness, and fades in aroma.

Li Heng believed his family's rice was among the best on the market—it was glutinous, fragrant, and had a lingering sweetness. But hearing his mother's concern, he lost his confidence. He slipped away to scout the competition and realized it was true: three or four stalls had rice that was overall superior to theirs.

If the quality wasn't enough, the sheer volume they had was overwhelming. It felt like they were being squeezed out of the market.

Tian Rune made a decision. "Let's try selling it at nineteen jiao for now. If it hasn't sold by noon, we'll lower the price."

Li Heng asked, "Mom, how much did you sell it for in the past?"

Tian Rune shook her head. "The price is hard to say; it's always changing. When demand is high, it can sell for twenty jiao a catty; I've even seen it go for sixteen."

Hearing this, Li Heng fell silent.

To be honest, this price was far lower than he had expected. He was shocked that 100 catties of rice could only sell for a little over ten yuan. It was no wonder that in his later life, few people in rural areas were willing to farm. With this kind of market, unless one achieved large-scale production, relying on small-scale farming wouldn't just fail to bring prosperity—it would barely keep a family fed.

He rubbed his temples, cursing himself internally. He had been so arrogant lately, looking down on manuscript fees of a few dozen yuan, only caring about the "big money." It seemed he needed to change his mindset. Even the smallest mosquito has meat; how hard and exhausting must it be for Comrade Tian Rune to earn a few yuan? Even his second sister had been forced into desperate measures for twenty yuan.

He slapped his forehead. Damn it, what right did he have to be picky? He needed to grab hold of both the big and the small opportunities.

With a plan in mind, Li Heng pondered which novel to write next while accompanying his mother.

Just as expected, a significant number of people crowded around the larger stalls, while only those who couldn't afford the high-priced rice wandered around, comparing and haggling.

Two hours passed, and they hadn't made a single sale. Seeing his mother working so hard to attract customers with little effect, Li Heng grew anxious, and his heart felt heavy.

"Mom, I'm going to step away for a second to use the restroom."

His legs were numb from squatting, so the trip to the restroom was real, but taking the chance to head to the post office to mail his manuscript was also real.

Tian Rune was so focused on selling the rice that she agreed with a distracted nod.

Just as Li Heng stood up, stamped his feet, and prepared to leave, two women appeared in front of their stall.

To be precise, it was a mother and daughter who looked somewhat alike.

The older woman was in her forties, wearing a long, snowflake-patterned wool coat. Her hair was styled in large waves, and she wore light makeup, radiating a trendy aura that felt out of place in this era. Her name was Wei Shiman.

The young girl had a delicate, enchanting oval face with clear features. Her hair was softly pinned up, her bare skin as fair and translucent as fine porcelain, with thin brows and almond-shaped eyes that looked elegant and refined. She wore a blue-gray plaid trench coat with a light red scarf and a pair of red flat shoes.

Simple as it was, she wore it with an incomparable grace.

She was tall, at least 165 centimeters, with a slim, graceful waist. She was holding her mother's arm with her left hand, her right hand tucked into her coat pocket. Standing against the light, she looked at Li Heng in surprise.

"Li Heng, what are you doing here?"

"Xiao Han."

They spoke almost in unison.