"Bro, there are so many people here."
"Thatâs normal. Humans are social creatures, after all. For many, this is probably one of the few ways they can relax."
Xiao Xuemei covered her mouth and chuckled. "Ziwenâs right. Every day, the moment we open our eyes, we have to scramble for food. This is the only time we can relax, even for a little while."
Qin Ziwen noticed Deng Guang hadnât come down. "Sister-in-law, whereâs Brother Deng?"
Xiao Xuemei said, "He was sleepy, so heâs taking a nap. Wenwen will go up and get him later."
"Knives! Knives! Stainless steel kitchen knives!"
"Cutting boards! Cutting boards! Big, solid wood cutting boards!"
The shouts from not too far away were particularly eye-catching. The two stalls were close to each otherâone selling kitchen knives, the other selling cutting boards.
This unusual scene attracted quite a few onlookers.
Someone laughed. "Whatâs the use of your cutting boards? At least a kitchen knife can be used to chop something. With this huge forest outside, arenât you just selling sand in a desert?"
The seller was an old scholar in a Zhongshan suit and round-framed glasses. He didnât get angry when questioned. Instead, he just chuckled confidently. "This isnât selling sand in a desert," he said. "Itâs selling purified water in the ocean."
"Whatâs the difference?"
"Can you drink seawater straight from the ocean? Itâs the same principle. There are plenty of trees outside, sure, but without tools, a tree will always just be a tree. It canât become a tool. Itâs not like youâre Lu Zhishen and can just uproot a willow tree.
Look at my large, round cutting board. Itâs a foot and an inch across and an inch and a half thick. Just attach a handle to the back and youâve got a shield. You all use kitchen knives to chop on wood, so you should know how much of a beating these things can take."
"A foot and an inch? Your cutting board isnât that big."
The old scholarâs expression didnât change. "Iâm referring to the Tang Dynasty Ruler."
Another person said, "What about the handle? Thereâs no handle on it. If youâre going to scam people, at least put some effort into it. This is just a plain cutting board, isnât it? What damn good is it without a handle?"
The old scholar gave a faint smile. "Didnât someone get a woodworking shed yesterday? With the tools in a woodworking shed, how hard could it be to add a handle to a cutting board?"
"Then why donât I just go to that person and buy a finished shield?"
The old scholar seemed to be stumped. He stammered, his face flushing red, then launched into a rebuttal.
Things like: âMy familyâs cutting boards develop Spiritual Energy after long useâ; âThis was passed down from my great-grandfatherâ; and âWith cutting boards, itâs all about the age.â
This caused the crowd of amused onlookers to burst into laughter.
"So, how much for the cutting board?"
The old scholar in the Zhongshan suit said nonchalantly, "Just give me a little something to eat. I have a small appetite; a little bit is enough to fill me up."
"Forget it. It canât be easy for an old man like you to be out here scamming people. Here are some grasshoppers I caught yesterday. Want them?" The man took out a bag.
"Let me see." The old scholar took the bag, glanced inside, and immediately chuckled. "Alright, sure. Itâs been years since Iâve eaten these things."
After taking the bag, he stood up and dusted off his pants. "I heard that woodworking shed is in Building Seven. If you want to add a handle, you can go look for him. Heâs fully equipped with tools; he can probably make any other wooden tools you need. Consider that a free piece of intel from me."
After the old scholar walked off, he took a long, roundabout path, eventually returning to Building Seven.
In the stairwell, the old scholar took off his glasses, breathed on them, and wiped away the fog.
He walked up to the 7th floor.
He knocked on a door, and after it opened, the old scholar, having put his glasses back on, said with a broad smile, "Itâs done. You got the publicity you wanted."
Huang Tao, who had been eavesdropping from upstairs, hesitated. "I still think this advertising routine is a bit crude. Someone probably saw through it."
The old scholar wasnât concerned. He grinned and said, "So what if they saw through it? Right now, youâre the only one with these tools. Scarcity creates value, right, Boss Huang? Anyway, Iâve done my part."
"Wait here. Iâll go get your meat," Huang Tao said, turning and walking into the kitchen.
Soon, he came out carrying a bag and handed it to the old scholar.
The old scholar accepted it, clasped his hands in a traditional gesture of respect, and offered a celebratory phrase: "Well then, I wish Boss Huang great fortune and a booming business!"
Watching the old scholarâs retreating back, Huang Taoâs brow furrowed. The old man had approached him last night on his own initiative, saying he could help drive traffic to his business and even introduced him to a neighbor who used to be a Carpenter.
He had asked for three catties of crocodile meat as payment, and after careful consideration, Huang Tao had agreed.
It wasnât really for the publicity, but mainly for the neighbor who had been a Carpenter.
After all, without a Carpenter, the woodworking shed was useless, and all the meat he had spent to get it would have gone down the drain.
...
The vendor weaving a grass rope noticed Qin Ziwen stop at his stall. He put down his work and started his sales pitch: "Hey, handsome, wanna buy a rabbit? Freshly killed today."
"Only dead ones? Do you have any live ones?"
"Live ones?" The vendor shook his head, finding the question amusing. "These rabbits are as slippery as eels. Theyâll zip away if youâre not careful. Itâs much easier to kill them than to catch them alive. I want salt. Do you have any salt? One liang of salt, and this rabbit is yours."
Qin Ziwen said nothing and walked away.
âSalt?â
âUntil a stable source of salt is found, every bit of it in the Gated Community is precious.â
"Hey, hey, hey, you can haggle! Vegetables are fine too! Five catties of vegetables and fruit! Four catties! Four catties is fine too!"
Qin Ziwen was already far away. He wasnât short on a bit of rabbit meat. A live rabbit would have some value to him, but a dead one was only worth a few ounces of meat.
âAt most, Iâd gain its fur.â
âBut our apartments came with us, and there are still plenty of clothes in the closets.â
After wandering for a while, he stopped.
On the stall in front of him were individually cut-out adhesive bandages and medicated patches.
Several people were crowded around the stall, all of them seemingly interested in the bandages.
"Are these bandages expired?"
"These are fresh stock, bought from a pharmacy just a month ago. Hereâs the box; the production date is on it."
"How are you selling them?"
The vendor was a woman in her twenties, wearing a black top and jeans. The question seemed to stump her; she wasnât sure what price to ask.
âNaturally, in her heart, she wanted to sell them for as much as possible. No one would complain about having too much food.â
âBut she knew that was impossible.â
âBesides, if the price was higher than what people were willing to pay, it would just drive away customers, and sheâd already been hungry for a day.â
The woman thought for a moment and said, "I want high-calorie food that can fill my stomach. You guys make an offer. As long as the price is right, itâs a deal."
In front of the stall, a man with narrow, upturned eyes and short, fine hair spoke up: "One packet of instant noodles."
The womanâs face lit up with joy. That price was far beyond what she had expected.
But the manâs next words made her expression freeze: "...in exchange for your entire box of bandages."
The woman shook her head, biting her lip. "No way. I have fifteen bandages here. I need at least... five packs."
The woman held up five fingers.
Qin Ziwen spoke up. "Five packs of instant noodles will last you two days at most. How about three catties of crocodile meat for all your bandages? Deal or no deal?"
The woman was stunned for a moment, then quickly agreed.
Qin Ziwen instructed her, "Wait here for me. Iâm going back to get the meat."
âHe wasnât short on meat right now, so trading three catties for a strategic resource like bandagesâsomething that dwindled with every useâwas worth it.â
âIn this primeval forest environment, an insignificant little cut could become infected and end up killing someone.â
"Hey, didnât you see I asked first?" The man with the upturned eyes turned his head, annoyed. He pointed at the woman in black and said, "Do you have any decency? No respect at all. I clearly made the first offer. You have to respond to me first."
The woman in black was silent for a moment, then nodded and said, "Iâm sorry, your price is too low. Iâm not selling."
The manâs blood pressure shot up when he heard that, but he didnât know who to be angry at.
âThat guyâs offer was indeed much better than his. It was so good, even he was a little tempted.â
Qin Ziwen smiled at him and said, "You have a lot of instant noodles, right? One catty of crocodile meat for five of your packs. Deal?"
The man with the upturned eyes was stunned at first, then became angry. âWho do you think youâre looking down on!â
"At least two catties!"
"Two catties of meat..." Qin Ziwen drew out his words. As the man with the upturned eyes watched expectantly, he continued, "...will cost you at least eight packs of instant noodles."
The man hesitated for a long time, then gritted his teeth. "Seven packs!"
"Deal."
Seeing the other man agree so readily, the man with the upturned eyes couldnât tell if he had gotten a good deal or a bad one.
âBut he really wanted to eat meat! Heâd been eating instant noodles every day for the past seven days, and they just werenât filling.â
On the way home to get the meat, Qin Ziwu quietly voiced his doubts: "Bro, isnât trading two catties of meat for seven packs of instant noodles a bad deal? Instant noodles are just carbs, no protein or vitamins. They arenât filling."
Qin Ziwen shook his head. "You canât calculate it like that. The instant noodles have salt, and the seasoning packets taste pretty good. In this environment, that counts as a delicacy."
"A delicacy?" Ziwu disagreed. "Iâm sick of eating that stuff."
Qin Ziwen laughed. "Talk to me again after youâve been eating this bland food for two months. Besides, this fresh crocodile meat wonât last long. If we donât trade it soon, it might go bad."
...
...