There are two kinds of stalls and shops here. One kind is the stall without a door, but unlike those little stands selling vegetables or snacks, these stalls have fixed spots; they aren’t like the mats spread out on the ground that can be moved around at will.
Chen Sanfang sells Steamed Bean Curd in the City, and knowing that their family will need a fixed stall in the future, she takes the time to ask around about the matters of pig meat stalls.
There are two Meat Markets in the City: the City Meat Market and the North City Meat Market.
The City Meat Market is frequented by well-off families, and the meat sold there is mostly mutton, while the North City Meat Market is the opposite, catering to common folk and mainly selling cheaper pork.
If you want to rent a stall in the Meat Market, the price isn’t high—you can rent one for three hundred and eighty coins a month.
But the Meat Market has its own rules. If you want to sell meat there, it’s not enough to just rent a stall and go in peacefully; you must first pay your respects to the Stall Head.
Once you have his approval, you can do business with peace of mind. If something happens, the Stall Head will cover small matters and speak for you in big ones.
But if the Stall Head doesn’t like you, even after you’ve paid the rent, you’ll only bring trouble upon yourself, with all sorts of people coming to make things difficult.
Everywhere has its own “bosses.” The City is even more complicated than the countryside, with all kinds of people.
Kang He wasn’t worried about the introduction, since Hu Dasan had worked in the Meat Market before. Though he’s retired now, he still has some connections.
If they wanted to enter the Meat Market, Hu Dasan said he’d take them to meet the Stall Head. After all, a master doesn’t take disciples for nothing.
But Kang He, under the pretense of buying meat, strolled around the Meat Market and didn’t really want to do business there.
He’d mentioned before, when buying meat, that some Stall Owners weren’t fond of cleanliness. Their stalls were filthy, attracting swarms of flies buzzing around and landing on raw meat, which was truly unsightly.
When it was cold and rainy, there were fewer bugs, but the ground was covered in water, and without tiles, with many people coming and going to buy meat, the mud could get two feet thick.
Some Stall Owners were careless, dumping filth from Pig Intestine onto the ground, mixing it with the mud—really making it impossible to get close.
There were seven or eight stalls in two rows in the Meat Market. With so much raw meat, all sorts of smells mixed together, and the stench was overwhelming!
Staying in such a place for long—how could that be comfortable?
But this was both the downside and the advantage of the Meat Market.
Because it was a Meat Market with many butchers, if someone wanted to buy meat, they’d come straight here.
If you wanted to buy Pig Brain today and arrived late, or didn’t make a reservation, if one stall sold out, you could check another nearby.
Competing for business was inevitable, but there were also more opportunities.
Of course, aside from the pork stalls in the Meat Market, there were other options, such as shops outside.
Currently, the County Office hasn’t set any rules that only allow meat to be sold in the Meat Market, so renting a shop outside is also a viable business.
Shops outside are spacious, protect from wind and rain, and you can tidy them up as you wish—if you want it clean, it can be clean.
The advantages of a shop are obvious and well-known.
But the downsides are also clear.
Looking around the County, the rent for a shop is rarely less than five hundred coins a month, even for the worst ones.
Also, many people think that selling pork doesn’t deserve such a large, spacious shop. Unless you already own several shops, renting a stall in the Meat Market is the most cost-effective option.
Furthermore, shops outside don’t attract the Meat Market’s customers, making it harder to do business.
Kang He and Fan Jing made a round and went to meet Chen Shi.
Chen Sanfang asked the two, “So, how was it? Are there any good stalls left in the Meat Market?”
Kang He didn’t say whether it was good or bad.
He and Chen Sanfang finished selling the rest of the Steamed Bean Curd, and Fan Jing drove the cart home together.
Once home, in the evening, the whole family was soaking their feet in the main hall. Kang He then talked about what he’d seen at the stalls today and shared his own thoughts.
“As for the stalls in the Meat Market, like I said, the rent isn’t high, but I still prefer to rent a shop instead.”
“I’ve thought it through. Besides selling meat, Mother also sells Steamed Bean Curd and Pickled Duck. Once the pork business gets going, we can sell everything in one place and won’t need as many people to help out.
“But if we rent a stall in the Meat Market, with that stink everywhere, selling Pickled Duck might be fine, but putting Steamed Bean Curd right next to it would make people uncomfortable—who would want to buy it?”
“In my opinion, we might as well spend a bit more on rent for a shop. That way, whether it’s sunny or rainy, we can do business without worry. Once the door is locked, we can also store things inside.
“Outside, we can set up a stall just for selling pork. Inside, with some shelves, we can also sell some groceries.”
Fan Father didn’t know much, but Chen Sanfang often ran errands in the County and had long admired those who ran shops.
Their little stall could be moved under a tree for shade in the summer, but in winter, they had to endure the cold winds in the street—nothing like the warmth inside a shop.
Every few days, when the weather changed suddenly, there wasn’t even time to pack up the stall.
Even if you packed up quickly, there was nowhere to hide from the weather.
After hearing Kang He, Chen Sanfang became even more interested in renting a shop. But since she’d never run such a high-investment business before, she felt uneasy and told Kang He, “I’m just afraid business won’t go well, and whatever little profit we make will all go to the rent.”
Kang He said, “To do business comfortably and conveniently, you have to spend a bit more.”
“Besides, we’re not wasting the space of a shop. The rent will be worth it.”
Fan Jing stayed quiet, but Kang He had already discussed it with him. Although Fan Jing didn’t care where they sold meat, he naturally hoped for whatever was best for the family.
Chen Sanfang worked hard selling Steamed Bean Curd in the City, walking the streets and calling out to sell. It was tough.
Especially in these cold winter months, with the New Year approaching, Steamed Bean Curd prices went up, and she had to go to the City no matter the weather, standing for most of the day. On rainy or snowy days, no matter how thickly she dressed, it was still freezing.
At this time, Fan Father said, “If renting a shop really wasn’t good, then nobody outside would do shop business. These days, with all the snow and cold, you still have to go to the City to sell Steamed Bean Curd. If you catch a cough, having a shop would keep you from suffering like this.
Let’s keep looking. If we find a shop with reasonable rent in a good location, let’s do as Kang He says.”
Chen Sanfang felt warm at Fan Father’s words and had nothing more to say.
The whole family trusted Kang He, and most of the time, they did things his way. But when running a business, it was always more proper for everyone to sit down and discuss it together, so everyone’s opinion was considered.
So, with the New Year approaching, Kang He and Fan Jing went to the City every day, hoping to find a shop they liked.
After asking around, the monthly rent for shops ranged from eight hundred coins to three strings of cash, and the ones they looked at weren’t even that big.
The cheapest, at eight hundred coins, was just a single open room, nothing extra, and the location was remote with little foot traffic.
For two strings of cash, the location was better, and the shop had a small room for living; the more expensive ones, at over three strings, even had a small kitchen, so you could cook and live there.
Kang He still wanted to spend as little as possible, prioritizing location first, and comfort second.
They didn’t have much money on hand. Renting a shop was one thing, but some landlords demanded half a year’s rent up front, and some even asked for three years.
If the rent was too high, they couldn’t afford it, and they still needed money to buy pigs and keep some cash for turnover.
After several days, they still hadn’t found anything suitable.
On the day of the Little New Year, the family made a meal of fresh pork dumplings. While Kang He was making the filling, he pounded some dried Shrimp Roe into powder and mixed it in. The resulting dumplings were praised by everyone for their freshness and firm meat. Kang He took some to give to Hu Dasan.
When he arrived, it was lively over there—Hu Dalang had brought his wife and children home.
Hu Dalang, ever warm-hearted, called Kang He over to warm himself by the fire and even brought out some tangerines for him.
“I heard from Father that Sanlang and Dajing are planning to do a pork business. Has it been going smoothly?”
Kang He told him they were currently looking for a shop.
Hu Dalang was a bit surprised. “Not renting a stall in the Meat Market?”
Kang He replied, “That was the original plan, but our family also sells Steamed Bean Curd, so after thinking it over, we decided to get a shop.”
Since Fan Jing had become Hu Dasan’s apprentice, Chen Shi would sometimes take Steamed Bean Curd to the City and bring some to Hu Dalang as well.
His wife always said the Fan family was thoughtful, and the Pickled Duck and Songhua Egg were delicious, though she didn’t know how they made them.
“Have you found a good one yet?”
Kang He said, “Not yet. Finding the right shop is a matter of fate. When you’re looking, you might not find one. When you’re not looking, you might stumble across something good.”
“Isn’t that the way it is? When I started my own little business, I just happened to get someone to hold a spot for me.”
Then Hu Dalang said, “What kind of shop are you looking for? I rent my shop from Luo Yuanwai, a big landlord with lots of properties. Maybe he can help you find a suitable one.”
Kang He thought this was a good lead and shared his thoughts with Hu Dalang.
Hu Dalang said he’d remember and that he’d be visiting Luo Yuanwai for New Year’s, so he’d ask then.
Kang He was grateful, thinking that even if nothing came of it, it was kind of Hu Dalang to offer.
Later that night, when Kang He got home, he found his feet itchy and painful. After taking off his shoes and socks, his toes were red—it turned out he’d gotten chilblains.
Fan Jing saw this and poked his toes, making Kang He yelp.
“How can you be so heartless? If my foot goes bad and I become lame, who’s going to go out with you?”
Fan Jing said, “I’ve never heard of anyone becoming lame from chilblains.”
“If I’m the first, I’ll be famous.”
Fan Jing glanced at him but said nothing, leaving the room.
Kang He grumbled a bit and fetched some boiling water to soak his feet.
After soaking, his feet turned red, but the itching lessened. He took the water outside and saw snowflakes falling again.
Kang He didn’t see Fan Jing in the kitchen, so he checked the pigsty, but still didn’t find him.
He was puzzled about where Fan Jing had gone. Just then, Chen Shi came out with a broom and said she’d seen him go out earlier, head down, and didn’t say where he was going.
Kang He was about to complain that the guy couldn’t be watched for a moment before disappearing.
He was about to go look when he saw a straight figure coming down the road toward home. Who else could it be but Fan Jing, braving the cold wind and snow without even hunching his shoulders?
“Where did you go?”
Kang He went over and patted the snow off Fan Jing’s shoulders and head.
Fan Jing shook off the snow and went inside without a word.
Kang He chased after him, ready to scold, but then saw Fan Jing pull a small medicine bottle from his coat: “Here.”
“What’s this?”
Kang He asked, opening the cap and smelling it—it was clearly Freezing Sore Ointment.
“Where did you get it?”
Fan Jing took off his coat and changed into something dry and comfortable, saying, “Where else but Zhu Doctor’s?”
Kang He leaned in and said, “You fool, I have some in my medicine box. You went all that way just to get another jar?”
Fan Jing frowned. “If you had it, why didn’t you use it?”
“I was just about to put some on after soaking my feet. Who knew you’d rush out to get more?”
Kang He grabbed Fan Jing’s cold hand. “Your hands are freezing. You always like to wander around, and your shoes are always wet. I was worried you’d get chilblains, so I got some ointment just in case. Didn’t expect I’d be the first to need it.”
Fan Jing looked at Kang He, feeling all sorts of things inside.
Kang He pulled him to sit down, applied the new ointment to his chilblains, and said, “If you’re going to Zhu Doctor’s, why not get some Oil Ointment too? That’s the one we’re really out of.”
Fan Jing shot him a look. “If your skin’s so thick, go get it yourself.”
“I don’t need it, but can you handle it?”
“Hey! Hey!”
Before he finished, Kang He yelped, clutching his toes where Fan Jing had kicked him. That really hurt!
“Are you really trying to make me lame?”
Fan Jing said, “You’d be better off mute.”
Kang He burst out laughing.
That night, the snow fell even harder, and you could faintly hear the bamboo outside snapping under the weight.
The family swept the snow off the roof before nightfall, so they weren’t worried about it collapsing.
Kang He sat in the main hall with the two girls, cutting window decorations. When he saw Fan Jing had gone back to his room, he couldn’t sit still, so he cut two more and told the girls to go to bed early since it was cold.
He went to the room and found Fan Jing still awake, sitting by the oil lamp with his head bowed, seemingly doing needlework.
Kang He was very surprised and went over to see Fan Jing had found some scraps of fur from somewhere, cutting them with a knife and sewing insoles.
The stitches were fine and even—if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he’d have thought it was a woman’s handiwork.
“You know how to sew!?”
Fan Jing didn’t let Kang He’s surprise interrupt him and continued working, saying unhurriedly, “I’m a young master.”
Kang He blinked. “Of course I know that.”
“Girls and young masters usually know these things.”
After finishing, he finally set down his needle and thread and said, “My mother taught me when she was alive. She was very skilled, no worse than Aunt Liang.”
Kang He said, “You always had Zhen help mend your clothes before. I never saw you do it yourself, so I thought you didn’t know how. Didn’t expect you to be so good at it.”
Fan Jing said nothing.
Kang He looked at the thick insoles, already cut to size—clearly matching his own big feet.
He was delighted inside, but pretended not to know and asked, “Aren’t these for me?”
Fan Jing didn’t answer, just kept sewing.
Kang He pestered him, calling him “big brother” over and over, refusing to stop until Fan Jing admitted it.
Finally, Fan Jing, annoyed by his fussing, said, “They’re for Fan Xin.”
At that, Kang He immediately fell silent.