Chapter 9: What Can We Sell?

After leaving the pharmacy, feeling the weight of money in their pockets, the siblings finally breathed a sigh of relief. As the saying goes, with money you can travel a thousand miles, without it, you can hardly take a step. Now, at least, they wouldn’t starve.

Looking at the quaint, ancient streets, Wenyao tightened her grip on Datou’s hand and glanced at Wenjun. “Brother, why don’t we walk around the street for a bit?”

Wenjun took in the bustling crowd and nodded, bending down to pick up Datou. “I’ll carry Datou. Look at whatever you want.” He knew his sister wasn’t the sort to wander aimlessly; she must have something else in mind.

As they walked, Wenyao stopped here and there to look or ask questions, her sweet words prompting the street vendors to chat with her. They wandered for nearly an hour. Datou, perched on Wenjun’s back, was getting restless. Several times he tried to grab Wenyao’s hand as she wandered off, but failed, and could only anxiously look in one direction, fidgeting on Wenjun’s back.

Wenjun, nearly losing his balance from Datou’s squirming, finally set him down. “Datou, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Datou frowned, glanced at Wenyao, then looked toward the direction Wen Xiuyi had pointed out before leaving, stretching out his hand.

Wenjun’s mouth twitched. Was this little fellow blaming Wenyao for dawdling too long and delaying their search for their father?

With a helpless smile, Wenjun pinched Datou’s nose and called Wenyao back. “Is that enough for now?”

“Mm-hmm.” Wenyao nodded, then looked at the little one. Seeing him pouting unhappily, she took the chance to ruffle his head, laughing, “What’s wrong with our Datou? You could hang an oil jug on that pout.”

Datou paused, as if trying to figure out what an oil jug was, then pointed again toward the docks.

“Datou doesn’t want you to wander anymore, he wants to find Father,” Wenjun explained.

Wenyao burst out laughing and pinched Datou’s chubby cheek. “So you’re blaming me, you little rascal. Come on, let’s find Father.”

The three of them made inquiries along the way and finally arrived at the docks. Only then did they realize the place was as bustling as the busiest city streets. Many merchant ships were docked along the river, with traders coming and going, groups of laborers chatting as they waited for work, and plenty of stalls as well.

Wenyao, sharp-eyed, spotted several fish sellers and led Datou over. While she held his hand, Datou’s eyes darted around the docks, searching for someone. But as a child, he was no match for Wenyao’s grip and soon found himself in front of the fish vendor.

“Uncle, how much are your fish?”

The middle-aged vendor looked at the siblings without a trace of disdain, smiling warmly. “Twelve coins per pound. Rest assured, my fish are fresh, just caught from the river this morning.”

In the two large wooden basins, the fish were indeed lively and fresh.

Wenyao was about to ask for two when Datou tugged at her hand, his brow furrowed in concern.

She crouched down and said softly, “We’ve made some money today. Father’s been working hard; shouldn’t we get something nice for him?”

As expected, at her words, Datou’s frown eased and he pointed at the largest fish in the basin.

This one.

Wenyao and Wenjun exchanged a glance; their father’s unexpected addition to the family warmth was indeed comforting.

“Uncle, we’ll take this one. How much?” The fish was at least four or five pounds—enough for a family of four.

“This one’s a little over five pounds. I’ll count it as five,” the vendor said, scooping out the fish to weigh for them. It was actually a bit over five and a half.

Wenyao quickly paid, and the man threaded a grass rope through the fish for easy carrying.

Wenyao held Datou’s hand, Wenjun carried the fish, and Datou occasionally poked the fish with his finger as they circled the docks, but they didn’t spot Wen Xiuyi.

“How are we supposed to find him?” Wenyao murmured, glancing down at Datou. The child hadn’t complained, but after so long, in the cold, sweat had appeared on his brow.

Wenjun, worried that his younger siblings were getting tired, suggested they stay put while he searched.

Once Wenjun left, Wenyao found a place to sit with Datou and took out two steamed buns from her cloth bag, giving one to Datou.

He looked at the steaming bun, puzzled, and turned to Wenyao.

She took a bite and said, “I wrapped them up before we left, so they’re still warm. Eat up.”

Only after Datou bit into the bun did Wenyao relax. The truth was, she’d just taken the buns from her secret stash, still hot, but luckily he couldn’t talk yet. If he could, she’d have a hard time explaining.

As she ate, Wenyao observed her surroundings. Unlike the orderly market, the docks were chaotic, with vendors setting up wherever they pleased, though business seemed to be good.

After waiting for nearly half an hour, Wenjun returned with Wen Xiuyi.

Compared to when he’d left that morning, Wen Xiuyi was much more disheveled. He dusted himself off before cradling Datou in his arms and sitting down where the others were.

Wenyao took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands, then handed him a hot bun.

“So? Does your idea look promising?” Wen Xiuyi asked between bites, occasionally tearing off a piece for his youngest son.

Wenyao pointed toward the area filled with vendors. “I think so. You can find all kinds of food for sale here. Most common are steamed buns—there are four stalls. Two sell noodles, three have wontons and dumplings, and there are several tea stalls where merchants take a break and buy fried pastries or snacks, even some stir-fried dishes.”

Wen Xiuyi nodded. “So what do you think we could sell?”

Wenyao beckoned Wenjun over so the four of them sat in a small circle. She said, “Before coming here, my brother and I went around the city and chatted with some vendors. In the city, most customers are either locals or people from nearby villages. Unless you offer something really special, business is just average.

“But here at the docks, the food doesn’t have to be fancy—what matters is filling people up. Who comes here the most? Laborers and merchants. But we can’t aim for the merchants right away. If they have money, they’ll eat in the city, not here at the docks. Isn’t that right?”

Father and sons nodded in agreement, even little Datou bobbed his head along.