Another female coworker added, “I know, the small market has really changed. They’re selling all kinds of new, trendy stuff now. People say it’s all brought in from Hong Kong, but who knows if that’s true.”
“My cousin went last week and bought a bunch of makeup. Gotta say, the lipstick colors were gorgeous.”
“And they even had these fake eyelashes—you stick them right on your eyelids, and boom, your lashes look longer and your eyes look bigger.”
The group chatted about the small market for quite a while.
Suddenly, the woman who’d bought the doll earlier said, “Hey, Director Su, didn’t you say last time that all those dolls on the market were brought in by that youngest son you just reconnected with?”
“Do you think all this new stuff at the market is also from him?”
When it came to Jiang Luo, Su Lan felt complicated.
On one hand, she was proud—her son was doing business now. Even if it wasn’t anything flashy, at least people wouldn’t see him as some useless kid.
But on the other hand, she could never get ahold of him, and he never came home. That part made her sad.
She didn’t show it, though. She just smiled. “I have no idea. Luo’s out running around every day, never home. I can’t even find him.”
The female coworker said, “Ask him when he comes home. Who knows, maybe it really is him.”
Another coworker sighed, “That’s awesome—making money with your own business.”
“Unlike my good-for-nothing son. Couldn’t get into college, refuses to go to tech school. Told him to try doing some small business—he says he doesn’t know how. He’s driving me crazy.”
A male coworker joined in, “State-owned enterprises are about to go through reforms anyway. The old ‘iron rice bowl’ days are ending. Going out on your own is just a matter of time.”
“Doing business is good.”
“It’s not like the old days anymore—no more looking down on merchants. If you can make money, you’ve got skills.”
Someone immediately flattered Su Lan: “Director Su, you really are something. Your eldest son works in municipal business—stable government job. Your second one, even though he wasn’t your biological kid and got switched at birth, still made it into Fudan. And your youngest wasn’t home for eighteen years, yet he’s sharp and out making money on his own.”
“All three sons—capable in their own ways.”
Su Lan knew it was flattery, but she still couldn’t help smiling.
…
Fudan University, men’s dormitory building.
The moment Zhao Mingshi walked into the dorm, he saw his roommates crowded around something.
“What are you guys doing?”
Curious, he leaned in.
Turned out one of the guys was sitting in a chair holding a brand-new handheld game console—small enough to fit in one hand—while the others watched.
Zhao watched for a bit too. Soon the guy lost, and the game over music played.
“Aiiih—”
Everyone groaned.
Someone asked, “Hey, Fang Haichen, where’d you get this game console? The department store? Or did your uncle bring it from Hong Kong again?”
Fang Haichen said, “Nope. I bought it at the small market last week.”
“For real?”
Someone was shocked. “The small market sells these now?”
Fang said, “For real. Why would I lie? The small market has tons of stuff now. Way more than the department store.”
Zhao cut in, “How much was this thing?”
“Thirty.”
One of the guys cursed. “Damn, that’s expensive.”
Zhao didn’t think so—he got 500 yuan a month for living expenses. He was always a free spender on campus.
He said to Fang, “Next time you go, buy one for me too?”
“I’ll give you two yuan for the trip.”
Instantly someone else said, “Me! Me! I’m going tomorrow—I’ll get it for you! Give me the two yuan!”
…
At the small market, business used to be so-so on weekdays, a bit better on weekends.
But these past couple of days, from morning to night, the place was packed. Crowds everywhere.
At the busiest times, every stall had people jammed in front of it. The aisles were shoulder-to-shoulder, just a sea of heads.
And the stalls that used to sell fabric, thermoses, soap, and daily necessities had all switched—now they sold the latest shipments of new goods. Prices were high, and everything still sold out fast. The only problem was never having enough stock.
“No more! We’re out!”
Stall owners shouted this constantly.
They were making a killing—way more than they ever earned selling their old goods. So much more that they were practically vibrating with excitement.
They sold nonstop at their stalls and wouldn’t even haggle. Take it or leave it—it would sell either way.
As soon as word spread that the supply truck and the two young bosses were arriving, they’d immediately have their family man the stall while they ran full speed toward the back entrance.
The moment the truck pulled up—before the back door was even opened—stall owners were already crowding behind it.
When the door opened, everyone squeezed forward.
“Boss, I want—”
“Me too!”
“I was here first, don’t shove me!”
Wang Chuang had a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth, Jiang Luo had a lollipop in his, and the two of them calmly unloaded the big crates one by one.
“Make way, make way.”
“No pushing. There’s plenty. Don’t panic.”
With so many people, they couldn’t pack bags for them like before when they sold the dolls.
Now, the big bags were set at the back of the truck. People grabbed a bag, filled it with whatever they wanted, then brought it to settle up.
Jiang Luo and Wang Chuang set up two folding stools. Jiang Luo put the ledger on his lap with a pen and calculator tucked inside.
People who finished picking goods came up to them. Wang counted items; Jiang Luo recorded and calculated. Everything was paid on the spot.
“One at a time. Form a line.”
This wasn’t like selling dolls anymore. They had tons of goods, lots of variety, and every item was priced differently. With each sale running into the thousands, Jiang Luo counted stacks of hundred-yuan notes nonstop, checking every bill for authenticity, hands and eyes working without pause.
“Next.”
He was skillful and quick.
Wang Chuang was busy like a seasoned pro too.
They kept going until every last item sold out.
Someone even asked if the folding chairs under them or Jiang Luo’s calculator were for sale. Jiang Luo bit down on the lollipop stick and laughed, “Why don’t you just take me apart and sell me while you’re at it.”
The guy joked, “If I took you apart, I’d sell the rest, but I’d keep your brain for myself.”
Jiang Luo snorted. “Give it a few days, we’ll have chairs in stock too. Calculators as well.”
Now that they were familiar faces, Jiang Luo added, “And in a few days, we’ll have a batch of stationery. It’ll sell like crazy.”
The guy grinned. “Anything you bring in sells like crazy.”
After packing up the crates and closing the truck’s rear door, they got back inside. They emptied the cash from their fanny packs to count.
All hundred- and fifty-yuan bills. And way more than they made selling dolls. Wang Chuang counted with a grin so wide it nearly reached his ears, muttering, “Damn—damn—this is what business should be! Damn! This feels amazing!”
He even started singing, “So much money~ so much money~~ damn, there’s so much money~~~”
He sang so loudly that Jiang Luo miscounted and shoved his head. “Shut up! You made me mess up.”
But Wang Chuang, high on adrenaline, kept singing, “We’re rich~~ we’re rich~~ damn, we’re really rich~~~”
Jiang Luo thwacked him with a stack of cash. “Show-off.”
Wang countered, “You’re not showing off?”
Jiang Luo smirked. “I don’t need to show off. I’m naturally the best.”
Finished counting, they tossed the money into the cookie tin Bai Ting gave them, and as they drove off, the two of them sang obnoxiously, “Money everywhere~~ money everywhere~~ our packs are full of money~~”
Jiang Luo even started singing the ending theme from New Legend of the White Snake—which wouldn’t exist until ’92—“Ahhhh~~ ahhhh~~ The beauty of West Lake~~ in the March spring~~”
They were absolutely glowing with the thrill of making money.
But they had no idea that earlier, while they were unloading behind the market, Zhao Shuo’s car had been parked not far away.
When Zhao Shuo got home that day, he told Zhao Guangyuan and Su Lan about Jiang Luo supplying the small market.
Su Lan lit up the moment she realized the hot-selling products really were from Jiang Luo.
Zhao Guangyuan was pleased too. “Good. Doing honest business is way better than clubbing, drinking, and fighting.”
Su Lan was relieved. “Shows his foundation was always good. Not like what we saw before.”
Then she sighed again. “But he still ignores us. He didn’t even take the truck we found for him.”
That was her biggest worry now.
Zhao Guangyuan comforted her. “We didn’t bring him home when we should have—that was on us. It’s normal for him to resent us.”
“Give it time. We’re his parents. Sooner or later, he’ll open his heart.”
The three of them talked about Jiang Luo for a bit.
Naturally, the conversation drifted from him… to Zhao Mingshi.