Chapter 15: So Much Money

Noon dismissal had arrived, but An Chen was nowhere to be seen; instead, from a distance, Li Jixiang spotted Ma Hongmei running toward her. Li Jixiang had anticipated Ma Hongmei’s arrival—how could someone as lively as her possibly stay put at school while the marketplace was so bustling? What she hadn’t expected was for Ma Hongmei to show up this early; surely she’d have lunch at school before coming over.

But Ma Hongmei was something else—she came bounding over, lunch pail in hand, her footsteps pattering excitedly.

Seeing Li Jixiang standing at the door of the blacksmith’s shop, Ma Hongmei waved and called out with exuberance.

Oh my goodness…

Watching Ma Hongmei charge over, shouting like a little wild thing, Li Jixiang suddenly found the phrase “pale yellow dress, tousled hair” popping into her mind from some catchy song she couldn’t place. The resemblance was uncanny, even the voice. Li Jixiang grew inwardly uneasy and felt the urge to turn and retreat indoors, but then thought better of it.

After all, she was selling rice under the pretense that it belonged to Ma Hongmei’s relatives. If Ma Hongmei and Grandma Li ended up talking, and with Ma Hongmei’s lack of guile, if Grandma Li started asking questions, it would be hard to keep up the lie.

“Li Jixiang, I saw you weren’t in class today, so I knew you must still be sick. I specially asked for leave to come see you.”

What a thoughtful excuse—though more likely, she just hadn’t eaten her fill.

“I’m fine. Come on, let’s go to the marketplace and watch the opera.”

Intent on preventing Ma Hongmei from meeting Grandma Li, Li Jixiang grabbed her hand and hurried away. As expected, Ma Hongmei stubbornly refused to leave, as if her feet were nailed to the ground. She sniffed deeply, searching for the source of the rice porridge’s aroma.

Ma Hongmei smacked her lips and stared longingly toward the inner room, muttering about the delicious scent as she tried to slip past Li Jixiang.

“Come here, I’ll treat you to something tasty at the marketplace.”

“Really?”

Forever hovering between hunger and fullness, Ma Hongmei’s eyes gleamed green at the mention of good food. With the same excitement as Tang Wanru mounting a horse, she pounced on Li Jixiang, clutching her hand tightly.

Where there’s milk, there’s mother; and Li Jixiang was not only beautiful, but always so kind to her.

Once, she thought Li Jixiang’s beauty was no different from the flowers in the school garden—lovely but distant.

Now, Li Jixiang felt to her like the glamorous stars mentioned by the neighbor auntie during movie gossip—brilliant and dazzling.

Ma Hongmei dreamed of becoming the kind of person Li Jixiang was now.

Unbeknownst to Li Jixiang, she had already gained a devoted fan.

Just then, Grandma Li emerged from the inner room and greeted Ma Hongmei warmly, asking if she’d eaten and offering her some porridge.

Ma Hongmei eyed the half pot of porridge in Grandma Li’s hands and licked her lips, but after an internal struggle, she resolutely followed Li Jixiang out of the blacksmith’s shop.

“You two be careful at the opera—don’t let yourselves get trampled or bumped.”

Grandma Li was worried, but couldn’t leave her granddaughter. Someone had to look after the rice stall, and the enticing scent of rice porridge had already drawn a crowd of customers.

Li Jixiang handed An Chen’s mother a stack of little slips, instructing her to give them to customers buying bean sprouts. Anyone who brought a slip to the blacksmith’s shop to buy rice would get one yuan off. Before An Chen’s mother could ask, Li Jixiang explained that a bag of rice cost eight yuan at the lowest price, but with a slip, it would be seven yuan. An Chen’s mother’s face lit up in delight.

Selling was all about those tricks; she was confident the locals wouldn’t resist.

Ma Hongmei’s straw-colored hair made her easy to spot in the crowd. The two girls were separated several times, but Li Jixiang always managed to find her.

The stage in the town center was empty; the performers took their midday break.

Li Jixiang bought a basket of steamed buns for Ma Hongmei. Ma Hongmei picked one up, then set it down, took out her lunch pail, dumped her coarse rice cakes onto the bench, and stuffed all the buns inside, closing the lid tightly—she said she’d take them home for her mother.

When she finished loading her lunch pail, only two buns were left in the basket. Ma Hongmei devoured them in a few bites, still hungry, and reached for her homemade rice cake.

Li Jixiang snatched it away and ordered another basket of buns from the shopkeeper. Ma Hongmei blushed in embarrassment.

“Am I eating too much? You should have a couple, too. I feel so awkward…”

“Eat as much as you want. Today, I’ll make sure you’re full. When we go back, you can carry home a bag of rice—I’ll give it to you, as long as you can carry it.”

Moved by Ma Hongmei’s filial devotion to her eccentric mother, Li Jixiang decided to do a good deed and support her desk mate, who was also her second highest popularity source.

Hearing she could get free rice, Ma Hongmei nearly choked on her bun. “I can carry it—I can carry two bags!”

Li Jixiang chuckled and then grew serious. If she was going to do charity, she’d do it thoroughly. From now on, she’d supply Ma Hongmei’s family with grain, but Ma Hongmei had to keep it secret; if anyone asked, she should say it was sent by relatives from the countryside. Her eccentric mother probably wouldn’t ask questions, so the secret would be safe.

The afternoon opera made Li Jixiang want to complain—on stage, a man and a woman sang back and forth, tossing handkerchiefs in the air. She couldn’t understand why Ma Hongmei found it so funny, sometimes laughing so hard she bent double, breathless.

The lively opera on stage didn’t stop her from moving rice from her wealth base below. Grandma Li must have started doubting her own eyesight by now; every time she sold a bag of rice, a new one appeared in its place. The rice never seemed to run out, yet the money kept piling up.

At the evening close, counting the cash, Grandma Li couldn’t figure out how many bags had been sold, but she was sure she hadn’t made a single mistake. She’d earned two hundred forty yuan in the afternoon, plus seventy yuan from An Chen’s mother, totaling three hundred ten—ten more than her son’s pension.

Never had she seen so much money; Grandma Li’s smile deepened the lines on her face. She asked Li Jixiang how much they’d earn from the consignment rice. Li Jixiang considered how to answer.

“Can we get twenty yuan?”

That was the most Grandma Li could imagine. After deducting the fifty yuan deposit for the stall, there was two hundred sixty yuan from rice sales. They’d be lucky to get ten percent as commission.

“Twenty is too little. We should get at least a hundred for our hard work. I haven’t even collected stall rent yet—Grandma, your labor counts too.”

Taking the stack of bills from Grandma Li, Li Jixiang counted out a hundred yuan and handed it back to her. Grandma Li was so moved her fingers trembled, unsure if she ought to accept. She’d heard the mayor’s monthly salary was only eighty yuan, and her day’s earnings exceeded that, leaving her with a strange sense of anxiety.

That night, as they ate fragrant rice, with Grandma Li smiling from ear to ear, Li Jixiang began to worry. If the wealth system suddenly went haywire and whisked her away, what would happen to Grandma Li? To Ma Hongmei? To the chubby An Chen?

Once you care about people, suddenly everything around you seems wonderful.

“Jixiang, isn’t it odd? I could swear the rice bags are stacked two layers high, but after someone buys one, there are still two layers. Do you think I’m getting old and my eyesight isn’t what it used to be?”

“You’re not old, Grandma. Your eyesight is as sharp as ever. Tomorrow, just focus on collecting money. I’ll sell the rice, and add some new varieties. I saw someone selling bright golden millet at the market—a lot of people were buying it, saying it’s good for new mothers.”

“That millet is indeed very nutritious. If we could get some to sell, that would be wonderful.”

Li Jixiang deftly steered the conversation away, and Grandma Li didn’t probe further.