◎ Stocking Up ◎

Auntie Chen noticed that Gu Qiao was different again from the last time she’d visited. This time her clothes weren’t as refined as before, but they were quite spirited and lively. She had always thought that an eighteen-year-old girl couldn’t look bad no matter how she dressed — just as she had never approved of her own daughter’s permed bird’s-nest hair, yet when she looked closely, she had to admit it suited her well enough too.

Chen Qing accepted the mohair sweater from Gu Qiao and cheerfully agreed to go along with her. She had just recently bought a tube of green lipstick that would go perfectly with the sweater.

Chen Qing asked Gu Qiao: “How are we getting there?”

Gu Qiao pointed to the rear seat of her bicycle: “Hop on!”

Chen Qing climbed onto the back of Gu Qiao’s bicycle and took stock of it: “You’ve really gone all out decorating this thing, haven’t you.”

“Thieves are afraid of drawing attention — they wouldn’t dare steal something this conspicuous.”

“Even without all this decoration, no thief would want your bike. This thing must be twenty years old. Where on earth did you dig it up?”

Though it was somewhat long in the tooth, Gu Qiao’s bicycle was still reasonably steady to ride.

At the market entrance, Gu Qiao took out a carefully kept stack of money and had Chen Qing count it once more.

Chen Qing held the money Gu Qiao had handed her and couldn’t help saying: “You earned this much just from selling jeans? With this kind of money, why don’t you get yourself a better bicycle. Never mind you riding it — I’m a little embarrassed just sitting on it.”

Gu Qiao herself felt no embarrassment whatsoever. She skipped over the second question entirely and simply said: “There’s also my wages and the money my father left me.”

“You’re putting all your money into jeans — aren’t you afraid of the risk? Maybe keep some back.” Chen Qing was holding the thick stack of bills and felt a little nervous herself. “Not going to lie, I’ve never held this much money in my hands before. Even if not all of it came from the small business, you’re still quite capable.” She hadn’t expected Gu Qiao to adapt to this city so quickly — and to have already made money on top of it.

“This is already a fairly low-risk venture. When you go in there, stick to the script I gave you when you’re negotiating the price — don’t hesitate.”

Chen Qing was no stranger to bargaining at markets. She followed the lines Gu Qiao had coached her on, went to the stall owner, negotiated until the end, and sure enough, got the price Gu Qiao had specified. Chen Qing dragged the large bag of jeans for dozens of meters before reuniting with Gu Qiao, who had been waiting in place with her bicycle.

The large bundle of jeans was ultimately strapped to the rear seat of Gu Qiao’s battered bicycle.

“Take a pair home to wear.” Without asking Chen Qing her size, Gu Qiao reached straight into the bag, pulled out a pair of jeans that would fit her, and pressed them into her hands. “What other clothes have you been wanting to get lately? Tell me.”

Chen Qing glanced at Gu Qiao’s historically elderly bicycle: “Forget it — I’ve already taken the sweater and the jeans from you. I can’t take anything else. If you truly have money to spare, use it to replace that bicycle of yours. You’d be doing both of us a favor.”

Gu Qiao laughed when she heard this: “You’re giving me far too much credit for generosity. I haven’t earned the right to be that generous yet. I’m thinking about what else to stock up on — I don’t have a clear direction yet, so I wanted to hear your thoughts.”

Chen Qing said: “Personally, I’ve been wanting to buy a leather jacket, but they’re too expensive — I can only look and wish. That’s probably something you’d have trouble sourcing too. There are only a handful of counters in the city that sell leather jackets, and unlike other clothes that sit in front of you while you deliberate, these ones have people queuing up to grab them.”

“People are queuing for leather jackets?”

“You don’t believe me? Come with me this afternoon and see for yourself.”

The two arranged to meet at Xidan that afternoon. Gu Qiao had originally planned to sell goods in the afternoon, but after what Chen Qing said, she changed her plans.

Chen Qing was right — people were already lining up at the leather jacket counters. Even the cheapest jacket cost nearly more than one of her monthly wages. Scarcity drives value; only Xidan and one other department store had counters selling leather jackets.

Seeing Gu Qiao staring fixedly at the leather jackets, Chen Qing said: “Once you’ve sold those jeans and made the money, you could easily buy yourself one to wear.”

She then couldn’t resist adding: “I wish I were like you.” Chen Qing envied Gu Qiao, who was already working — unlike herself, who still had to wait until after graduation next year before she could earn wages and buy something like this.

“You can earn money now too. If classmates or acquaintances see your jeans and want to buy some, send them to me — or you can take stock from me directly and handle it yourself. For every pair sold, I’ll give you three yuan commission.” Gu Qiao smiled as she said it. “It’s not that your effort is only worth that much — it’s mainly that my capital is limited right now.”

Chen Qing figured that since there was no cost involved, some earnings were better than none.

Gu Qiao followed Chen Qing around to every one of the city’s few leather jacket counters. Each had a queue in front of it — mostly young people, though middle-aged and older customers were there too. And many like Chen Qing, who wanted to buy but found the price too steep — potential customers in waiting.

Gu Qiao thought back to when she’d ridden the Ferris wheel, and the man in the same gondola who had asked Luo Peiyin where he’d bought his leather jacket. The counters didn’t carry the same style that Luo Peiyin wore. Gu Qiao studied the styles on display — only a few varieties, and because supply was limited, customers weren’t particularly choosy.

Too many people were selling jeans, and they were picky about their buyers too. Her current stock wasn’t hard to move, but it was difficult to scale — she could only sell them one pair at a time. Leather jackets, on the other hand, appealed to all ages; as long as they were reasonably priced, there would be no shortage of buyers. And leather jackets were more expensive, which meant a larger profit margin.

Turning this over in her mind, Gu Qiao’s interest was piqued. She wanted to find out where the goods were sourced, but didn’t want to ask too bluntly. She simply said: “Is this genuine leather? Where are they made?”

“Xinji.”

“Where is Xinji?”

“Shijiazhuang, Hebei.”

Ever since visiting the leather jacket counters, Gu Qiao had kept the matter firmly in mind. Though Luo Peiyin had given her his address, she had never gone there. Only when he came home did she make an extra portion of food and pack it in a lunchbox for him to take. During the day she went to nearby schools at noon to sell jeans, sweaters, and a few other small items; in the evenings she had a fixed spot on that street selling clothes. She often saw Luo Peiyin cycling past, and when she did, she would wave at him on her own initiative. Then she would return home at the agreed time, finding whatever gap she could to page his number and let him know she was back.

By the time late November was drawing to a close, Gu Qiao had moved all the jeans she’d originally bought from that stall owner. After deducting the thirty yuan commission she’d given Chen Qing, she had earned a total of one thousand yuan. When she sold the last pair of jeans, she didn’t go to restock elsewhere — instead, her mind turned to leather jackets. Gu Qiao had made no advance plans for going to Xinji; the very day she finished selling the last pair, she counted her money, and on a sudden impulse, went straight to the train station and bought a ticket for Sunday morning.

The ticket was for Sunday morning. That morning she told her cousin-aunt that she was going to the Chen family home to study with Chen Qing, and might be a little late coming back.

This time, Gu Qiao was traveling alone to another city — very different from the long-distance train journey she’d taken to come to Beijing. That time she’d had no money and nothing to lose; this time was different. The money she had worked so hard to earn could not suffer even the slightest loss. She hadn’t been able to get a seat, so she stood in the vestibule between carriages the whole way there, jostled from all sides. This section was the smoking area; smoke hung constantly in the air, and she coughed continually — she somewhat regretted not having brought a face mask. But this regret didn’t linger in her mind for more than a few minutes before it was driven out. She had room for only two things: making sure her money didn’t get stolen, and figuring out what to stock up on.

But it wasn’t until Gu Qiao got off the train, with the sun nearly setting, that she realized she had come to the wrong place. There were all manner of hides here — merchants from every region came to source leather goods — but what was sold was all unprocessed raw material. She inquired about the prices of various hides, learning the going rates for cowhide, sheepskin, and pigskin, but she could not find a single business selling finished leather jackets. By the time she’d circled the entire leather goods market, all she had bought were some leather gloves. The money she’d brought along had barely been spent.

Only when she had finally given up hope did she think to look at the electronic watch on her wrist.

She made a dash for the last train back to Beijing, and just as she had on the way there, she was pushed and jostled in the vestibule between carriages while the smoke once again set her coughing. It was only now that she remembered — she hadn’t eaten anything since early morning. The aroma of box lunches drifted from the carriage.

Gu Qiao decided to be good to herself. She spent fifty fen on a box lunch, stood on one foot in the vestibule, and quickly shoveled the food into her mouth. As expected — food really does taste better when you’re hungry.

—