The weather in Shangdu was playing tricks on Xia Xiaolan. Just when the temperature had started dropping earlier, which explained why wool coats were selling well, several days of clear skies appeared suddenly. Without a significant temperature drop, neither the winter jackets nor the duck-down coats could show their true value. Though their colors were bright and attractive, when customers asked about the prices – 45 yuan for winter jackets and 55 yuan for duck-down coats – they all walked away.

“These coats are too expensive!”

Coats?

Xia Xiaolan had to carefully explain to customers, but they were mostly just browsing, with not a single person making a purchase.

Fortunately, she had stocked other clothing items that sold gradually, turning over 5,300 yuan including principal and profit. Adding what remained from previous stock, she had just over 6,500 yuan total. Her trip to Yang Cheng had cost nearly 4,000 yuan in inventory, yet she hadn’t even made a 100% profit… The winter jackets and duck-down coats alone tied up over 1,000 yuan in capital. If she could sell them smoothly, she might gather around 2,500 yuan more.

The total capital wasn’t even 10,000 yuan – would it be enough to support a store?

To fill three storefronts and make a name in Shangdu, she’d need at least two to three hundred pieces of clothing.

Her inventory wasn’t cheap – whether it was wool coats priced above 50 yuan wholesale or winter jackets and duck-down coats around 25 yuan each. Two hundred pieces would probably cost seven to eight thousand yuan. Add in sweaters and pants to keep the walls from looking empty – several dozen of each would cost another 2,000 yuan!

The total approached 10,000 yuan. As an individual merchant from another province, not a state-owned enterprise, she had to pay cash for whatever stock she ordered. If the winter jackets and duck-down coats sold well and achieved expected profits, she might scrape together enough money for inventory. But the three storefronts wouldn’t come decorated – there weren’t many decoration styles to speak of at that time. Since the State Cotton Mill No. 3’s building was vacant, it would need renovation before opening.

Would simply painting the walls, leveling the floor, and installing some light bulbs be enough?

If so, she might as well keep selling on the street.

She needed to create an upscale feel while keeping costs down. She wanted Shangdu residents to feel proud shopping in her store, and to be able to sell clothes that cost 20 yuan wholesale for over 50 yuan… Xia Xiaolan wasn’t being greedy – this was just business. She wasn’t selling essential goods like grain and oil. Anyone who could afford such expensive clothes could handle these prices.

She was positioning herself in the mid-to-high-end market – would it make sense to sell clothes bought for 20 yuan at just 25 yuan?

After deducting round-trip tickets and shipping costs, that would practically be charity!

She had a rough renovation plan in mind but didn’t know the specific conditions of the store. Basic renovations would cost money, as would new clothing racks and display shelves. Getting the store and opening before the New Year would be a blessing.

More likely, she wouldn’t even secure the store before the New Year. Xia Xiaolan knew her uncle was slowly working on persuading the State Cotton Mill No. 3’s leadership.

The deputy factory director managed staff housing assignments for State Cotton Mill No. 3. Given how large the factory was, Xia Xiaolan couldn’t understand why one building remained vacant. Logically, it should have been filled with workers by now. Though State Cotton Mill No. 3 had staff dormitories, who would complain about having too much space?

Xia Xiaolan could only continue her street vending, waiting for good news from Liu Yong.

Fortunately, the Zhu family hadn’t bothered her. Her street vending was like guerrilla warfare – strike and move. Several days after her third inventory purchase, everything except the winter jackets and duck-down coats had sold out.

At night, Liu Fen kept examining those clothes, worried they wouldn’t sell.

Xia Xiaolan knew being anxious wouldn’t help. She could only wait for the temperature to drop.

After finishing the pork trotters Li Fengmei had brought from the countryside, Xia Xiaolan found herself missing the taste. While Liu Fen continued selling pork cracklings, Xia Xiaolan chopped some spare ribs and braised them. Though Liu Fen was thin, her nutrition was guaranteed. Now that the strong UV season had passed, she seemed to have become a bit fairer.

Riding a bicycle with wind hitting her face was uncomfortable, so Xia Xiaolan, concerned for her mother, bought her a warm set of scarf, gloves, and hat. While cycling, she could wrap her face leaving only her eyes exposed. She also bought vanishing cream for Liu Fen and Li Fengmei. Though the boxes were small, both women felt uncomfortable with the fragrant cream on their faces and hands.

“Clam oil is so cheap.”

Clam oil came in small shell-shaped boxes – small boxes cost just a few fen, while large boxes didn’t exceed 0.1 yuan. Even urban workers under economic pressure could afford it for their hands and faces. Li Fengmei used it in the countryside, but Liu Fen had never even seen it. When living with the Xia family, she didn’t have a single penny to spend freely. Using clam oil was probably a privilege reserved for Zhang Cui and Wang Jingui.

When Xia Xiaolan first “awakened,” besides noting Liu Fen’s dark, thin, and withered appearance, she remembered those cracked hands. After leaving Qi Jing Village and no longer doing farm work, Xia Xiaolan began taking good care of Liu Fen. She would repeatedly wash her hands with hot water and soap, trim her nails very short, apply thick layers of clam oil, and then wrap her hands in hot towels.

Heat opened the pores while clam oil locked in moisture. She had to apply clam oil after every hand washing and before bed, then wear clean cotton gloves to sleep… In less than half a month, Liu Fen’s hands had already recovered significantly.

She wouldn’t let Liu Fen touch cold water, insisting on using warm water for laundry and cooking.

Honeycomb coal costs very little, and keeping an aluminum kettle on it provides hot water all day. Of course, Xia Xiaolan usually rushed to do the work herself. Though her cooking skills weren’t great and she couldn’t make hand-pulled noodles, couldn’t she at least cook dried noodles?

She’d buy some good pork back fat, cut it into small pieces to render into lard, then store both the oil and cracklings in an enamel jar. When eating noodles, she’d pick out a small piece with chopsticks, add some soy sauce and green onions, then pour in hot soup – the aroma would fill the room. Noodles cooked this way couldn’t taste too bad. There was also an advanced version using diced half-lean half-fat pork rendered into meat sauce.

When cooking skills were lacking, good ingredients made up for it. Besides, Liu Fen could never get enough pork, so Xia Xiaolan’s cooking skills didn’t matter.

Since Xia Xiaolan couldn’t sell her winter jackets and duck-down coats, she didn’t set up her stall today, staying home to study instead. After the spare ribs were done braising, Liu Fen came home on her bicycle. Her basket carried a strong smell of pork cracklings.

“You cooked?”

Liu Fen smelled the spare ribs and casually asked while parking her bicycle in the courtyard:

“Is Grandmother Yu back?”

Grandmother Yu wasn’t close to the mother and daughter, but Liu Fen, thinking of her as a lonely old woman, usually looked after her. She would offer whatever good food they had, though Grandmother Yu never appreciated it.

Grandmother Yu swept the streets and should have been back by now. Indeed, her broom was in the corner. The room door was locked from the inside rather than outside, but when had she returned? Xia Xiaolan had only gone out to buy groceries at noon and had been studying all afternoon without hearing any movement… Given Grandmother Yu’s age, they couldn’t worry about whether she was being warm or cold toward them. Xia Xiaolan called out “Grandmother Yu” twice, but there was no response from the room.

She knocked hard, but still no response.

Liu Fen peered through the window gap, “…There’s someone!”

The room door was locked from the inside – Grandmother Yu was very cautious, locking her door even for afternoon naps. After Xia Xiaolan called several more times without a response, she kicked the door open.

Even this commotion didn’t wake her. Xia Xiaolan suspected something was wrong. Placing her hand under the nose, she felt breathing… Xia Xiaolan sighed in relief:

“Mom, let’s get her to the hospital quickly!”