Chapter 10: A Blessing in Simplicity

Dog Egg had no idea that all Wei Dong had in his bag was a towel quilt and a military raincoat.

At the end of June, in the heart of summer, it was already possible to sleep anywhere under the open sky. Spreading the rubber-lined raincoat on the ground, using the waterproof-lined backpack rolled with clothes as a pillow, and wrapping oneself in the towel quilt made for an especially sweet and restful sleep.

Especially in the morning, waking at six-thirty to the unchanging sound of the radio, just as it had been for decades. It felt to Wei Dong as if he had had a marvelous dream; he looked at his hands and laughed out loud.

But after squatting for two days, watching the television at the Wanshang Trading Company, he only saw the great tycoon, Sky Vast, chatting with all sorts of people. Returning to the corner of the construction site’s second floor each night, Wei Dong had waited for two days, yet the figure he hoped for never appeared.

He was a bit puzzled—could it be that this detail was different in this life than in the last?

Time could not be wasted; he decided to head home at dawn.

After arriving in the county town, he didn’t take a ride but instead walked the mountain roads back, deliberately collecting smoked bacon along the way for twenty or thirty miles.

At first, he was able to collect some, but as he neared the village, he sensed trouble.

Some farmers in the distance told him that a girl from Lijia Slope had already come by these past two days and collected the bacon.

He had only managed to gather thirty catties on his way back.

Then, acquaintances teased him openly: “Your little wife just collected some, and now you’re here again?”

The worst was upon entering the village—every household joked about the towels and undershirts he’d given them: “Your wife keeps a tight watch! There are six of us in the family, but she only gave us one towel and one undershirt. Even the Chen family next door with just two people got the same.”

“Really, Dongwa, you’d better hurry up and propose to the Li family, Old Li has already checked out your family’s homestead.”

“I heard from Dog Egg that Old Let had a major operation and recovered?”

“Old Li is planning to open up two more acres—more sons-in-law means more labor.”

“No worries, I’ll help Dongwa with the double harvest at the Li family’s busy season!”

Seeing Dog Egg jump out to offer his help with the farm work, Wei Dong wanted nothing more than to kick him away.

He pulled someone aside to ask, and sure enough, that wretch had come back and handed all the money, clothes, and towels over to Er Feng, claiming righteously that it was only proper to give everything to Dongwa’s wife.

Er Feng, emboldened, went on collecting bacon and even took charge of distributing gifts and thank-yous!

Wei Dong scoffed, “I’m not doing any double harvesting. From now on, I’ll do a little business. Old Li’s schemes are none of my concern!”

The Er Feng family had four daughters!

If not for the start of family planning in the late seventies, they’d have kept having children until a son was born. So, the Li family was determined to find a strong, able farmhand for a son-in-law. With two crippled laborers in the family, of course they wanted to quickly change their fortunes.

Wei Dong remembered all of this.

But when he got home, the baskets of smoked bacon truly tempted him.

In the most literal sense of the word.

The bacon from these mountains sold well because it was smoked with a special local green-oak charcoal, which gave it a uniquely delicate, fragrant aroma. Even if each village had its own smoking methods, the scent of the green-oak charcoal was always distinct.

Wei Dong sought out Er Feng for a talk. “The bacon is good. I’ll give you one and a half yuan a catty; you can turn around and sell it to our neighbors for one yuan. The profit in between is yours. As for marriage, let’s not mention it again. It was never formally discussed—just a childhood joke among the elders.”

Er Feng was startled at first, seeing Wei Dong count out over two hundred yuan for more than a hundred catties of bacon!

But as soon as he denied the marriage, her eyes widened, “Why? What did I do wrong? Everyone knows I’m supposed to marry into your family, and now you say it’s off?”

Though a country girl, she wasn’t delicate, but tears welled up in her eyes—it was simply too humiliating!

Wei Dong said bluntly, “I was just lucky—selling bacon outside without getting caught. It’s risky, and at any time I could be arrested and sent to jail. If my paralyzed father hadn’t recovered, would your family still want this marriage?”

Er Feng gritted her teeth. “Marry a chicken, follow the chicken. Even if your family is a pit, I’d suffer with you.”

Wei Dong, ever the iron-willed man, remained unmoved. “Your father would never let you jump into that pit. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have enough labor for the busy season. I won’t treat you unfairly. If you keep collecting bacon, I’ll keep buying. If I get caught, I’ll never implicate you. Dog Egg gets paid; you’re my supplier. Earning a few hundred or thousand as dowry makes you sought after anywhere.”

He slapped the money on the Li family’s table and left.

Er Feng’s mother had just brought in hot water, only to see the young man stride out in great haste, unable to stop him.

So, after that, Wei Dong gave Dog Egg a good thrashing, hid six hundred yuan in the main room, then immediately packed up the bacon and headed for the provincial capital.

On the way, Wei Dong considered selling directly to the Wanshang Trading Company, which would allow him to establish ties with the great tycoon and begin a business relationship.

But on second thought, that might cut off his own business entirely. If they realized such a profitable trade was happening right under their noses, their manpower could easily control all the bacon purchases in the surrounding counties and villages.

He’d watched Wanshang Trading Company for a long time and hadn’t seen them selling this kind of product.

Smoked bacon was rare in the countryside but could fetch several times its price in the city, was in demand, and could be sold anywhere.

If he hadn’t heard about this case in the tax bureau compound, Wei Dong would never have discovered such a unique way to get rich.

It was even more profitable than selling chickens, ducks, fish, or goats.

This time, it all went smoothly.

Carrying backpacks, the two young men took the “luxury” Yangtze steamer, avoiding pickpockets and police inspections.

Wei Dong also discovered that taking the express steamer, which stopped at only two or three ports, was quicker, subjected to fewer checks, and cost the same for a ticket.

When they arrived, it was just after seven in the morning. He didn’t even enter the city; instead, following the directions given by a canteen buyer, he immediately ferried across the river to the densely packed factory district on the other side.

Sure enough, he broke up the bacon into twenty- or thirty-catty lots and sold them separately to various factory and mine canteens.

The factories here were much larger than those in the street factory where he’d first sold his goods.

Textile, dyeing, cigarette, printing, silk, and machinery factories all lined up together.

These were all massive state-owned factories, each with family quarters, hospitals, schools, and kindergartens—certainly employing thousands of people.

The factory areas also had their own shops, barbers, and bathhouses.

In those days, factory gates had no security; anyone could walk right in.

With Dog Egg, it was even easier—he could hide among bushes with the bacon, and Wei Dong only needed to carry a small portion for each transaction.

Even if a security officer stopped him, he could show a diagnosis slip and say he was selling a little to afford medical treatment, and that someone from the factory had suggested he bring it over.

The quantity was small, so it was clearly not going to be made into a big deal.

After making the rounds at several factories and selling everything, Wei Dong found himself holding over a thousand yuan in cash and dozens of grain coupons. He even took the chance to browse the factory shops.

These were generally called convenience stores or labor service companies—the former selling daily necessities, the latter mainly the factory’s own products, at incredibly low prices!

For example, the patterned fabrics from the dyeing factory, the sheets and bedding from the textile factory—all sold openly at a bargain.

Especially at the silk factory, where they had silk comforter fillings. Unlike ordinary cotton fillings, pure silk fillings were already considered a luxury item.

In the tax bureau compound, few could afford them, but their warmth in winter rivaled that of down comforters!

Light as a feather yet as warm as a furnace.

But forty yuan for a silk comforter filling was already equivalent to a city doctor’s monthly salary. Decades later, that same salary would still only buy one comforter—what a luxury purchase!

And this was just the factory price.

Wei Dong blinked hard, feeling as if he had stumbled into Ali Baba’s treasure cave.

As for the patterned fabric costing only a few dozen cents per meter, or sheets and covers for just a few yuan, they were even cheaper, piled high in labor service companies with no one interested.

In this planned economy era, these factories had no sales channels. Except for what was bought and sold by higher authorities, the more they produced, the more inventory piled up, with no idea how to sell it.

Even in the eighties, despite the daily calls for reform and opening up, factories could only send salesmen out blindly searching for buyers.

It was all a matter of luck if their efforts happened to meet actual market demand.

Without the internet, there was no way to search for information at the drop of a hat.

Even in a big city, with so many workers coming and going, few thought of reselling for a profit.

In an era when the state took care of everything, most people were too lazy to think that way.

So, Wei Dong copied the tycoon’s approach, buying just a little bit of everything.

Of course, at the cigarette factory, he bought a carton for his father, with no intention of doing business—cigarettes had their own taxes and were not to be meddled with.

At this point, he still didn’t realize how much his understanding surpassed that of everyone around him.

The silk filling went into Dog Egg’s backpack, while Wei Dong himself carried several meters of patterned cloth and some sheets and covers.

Returning to the wholesale market to compare prices, he found that just by crossing the river, the patterned fabrics were a few cents more expensive, and the silk comforters nearly fifty yuan.

Even with Wei Dong’s business sense, he realized the profit margin on luxury goods wasn’t all that great.

Selling bacon was still better.

So, with his not-so-sharp mind, he didn’t take these factory goods to the Wanshang Trading Company as a token for an introduction.

And by doing so, he narrowly missed the disaster that was to come.