Chapter 22: Are You Running a Wholesale Business?

“Sir, what do you think of this house? A Western-style villa, nine-tenths new, two stories, with a courtyard, and from the back room you can see Beishan Mountain; the roof has a platform where you can grow flowers and herbs, soak up the sun—location is quiet, perfectly meets your standards, water and electricity are already installed, furniture fully furnished. Such a fine house costs only three hundred cash a month—we’ll handle all utilities for you. If you pay fifty extra cash monthly, I can arrange a maid to clean and cook—she’s worked for wealthy households before…”

As the estate agent’s rambling words drifted into his ears, Feng Xue carefully examined this “luxury residence.”

Though the agent clearly didn’t treat it as a luxury property, for Feng Xue, who came from a modern world where every inch of land was priceless, this two- to three-hundred-square-meter villa with its courtyard was undeniably a mansion.

Yet such a cheap price made Feng Xue uneasy; though satisfied, he still asked:

“Such a fine house—why did the original owner leave?”

“Ah, you wouldn’t know—the former owner was quite a figure, but his wastrel son gambled away his fortune, got swindled in Shenshuigang, and racked up massive gambling debts. His father, a sensible man, realized someone had targeted their business and feared his son would repeat the folly, so he sold all local assets and returned to his hometown. This newly built house was dumped at a bargain price.”

“Shenshuigang is too close to us—outsiders doing business head straight there. The wealthy in this county have ancestral homes; the poor can’t afford rent. So this house’s stuck with our agency. If you’re interested, I’ll hand you both the deed and land title for thirty guan—you take it outright! If you find utilities troublesome, we can handle them too—first three years free, as a gift; after that, settle annually!”

Feng Xue was tempted—after all, this sum meant nothing to him—but he’d only just crossed over three days ago, hadn’t even mapped the county’s streets. Settling so hastily might invite trouble. After thinking it over, he said:

“Buying isn’t urgent—I’ll rent for a few months first. Do you have the contract?”

“I do, I do!” Though he hadn’t sold the house, any income was welcome. The agent hurriedly pulled a tightly rolled contract from his small cloth bag, unrolled it, and added, “This house has a three-month minimum lease, five months’ deposit, one month’s rent upfront. Not that I distrust you—these furnishings aren’t cheap. The front and back courtyards’ plants have gone wild; if you dislike them, you can pull them out and plant something else. Of course, I’ll accompany you to inspect everything first—so we can spot issues early. Also, though this is Chengnan, it’s somewhat remote. You’d best keep a dog or hire two guards. Though Pingan County’s folk are honest, there’s always a few thieves and scoundrels.”

This house has a three-month minimum lease, with five months’ rent paid upfront and one month as deposit. It’s not that I don’t trust you—it’s just that the furniture and fittings here are all expensive, while the flowers and plants in the front and back courtyards have gone wild; if you dislike them, you can pull them up and plant something else. Of course, I’ll accompany you to inspect everything first, so we can spot any issues early. Also, although this is still in Chengnan, it’s somewhat remote—you’d better keep a dog or hire two guards. Even though Pingan County has a simple, honest populace, there’s always a chance some scoundrel will steal chickens or sneak around.

The agent, eager for profit, readily agreed. Just as he was leaving, Feng Xue suddenly called him back:

“By the way, I heard you have a witch named Jiu Gu?”

The agent didn’t seem surprised. He nodded: “Jiu Gu lives beside the rice shop in Chengxi. Coincidentally, I’m heading there to buy household goods—I’ll go with you. But if you need anything like this again, you must ask the shopkeeper at the rice store. That’s the rule.”

Feng Xue nodded in agreement. Without further words, they set off toward Chengxi.

Ninth Aunt lives beside the rice shop in the west city; luckily, I’m heading there to buy household items for you, so I’ll go with you. But if you need anything like this in the future, you must go to the shopkeeper at the rice store to ask—he’s the one who knows the rules.

Under the agent’s guidance, Feng Xue detoured past the main road and soon spotted a small courtyard. More like a shrine than a house, even outside he could smell incense and candles.

Peering inside, rows of eternal lamps and candles flickered—but no deity statues. Instead, countless nameless spirit tablets and bizarre wooden carvings were arranged neatly on the altar. Though daylight flooded the place, the lighting created a uniquely Chinese horror-like chill.

Though he’d already acquired his cultivation method, Feng Xue hadn’t abandoned this last option. Yet as he searched for the “Jiu Gu,” a voice suddenly rang out:

Looking inside through the doorway, rows of eternal lamps and candles flickered steadily, yet no deity statues were visible; instead, numerous unnamed spirit tablets and bizarrely shaped wooden carvings were arranged neatly on the altar. Though it was broad daylight and brightly lit, the place radiated a uniquely Chinese horror-like chill.

“!” Feng Xue jolted. He turned—and saw a woman approaching, carrying a massive wine jar. She looked early thirties—not young, not old. Not beautiful, but strikingly pleasant to look at. Naturally, as he observed her, he also checked her lifespan.

Hmm. 22,791. A long life.

“What are you staring at? Can’t you understand ‘come in’? Don’t you know you’re blocking the yin path?”

As she spoke, she stepped forward, shoving Feng Xue inside. Without another word, she walked to the altar piled with strange objects, poured the jar’s contents into the lamp vessels.

Only then did Feng Xue realize—the jar didn’t hold wine, but lamp oil.

As the woman spoke, she stepped forward deliberately, shoving Feng Xue inside the door, then fell silent, carrying the wine jar straight to the altar piled with strange objects, and poured its contents into the lamp bowls.

The woman frowned at Feng Xue. He realized his behavior was odd and quickly said:

“Miss… uh, Miss, I’m here to find Jiu Gu…”

The woman burst into laughter, plopped down grandly in front of the central table: “Young man, you speak so sweetly. I’m Jiu Gu. Say what you need—I’ll give you a twenty percent discount!”

“?” Feng Xue blinked. Though not beautiful, this woman hardly matched his image of a witch. But since she’d claimed it, he sat down: “I’m a self-taught xuan cultivator, no master, just basic skills. I wanted to ask…”

Feng Xue was still speaking slowly, observing her expression—but Jiu Gu waved her hand dismissively: “You want to learn magic? Fine. But you’re too old, male, and carry another school’s techniques. Forget about your core art. Other minor spells—I’ll sell them to you. I promised twenty percent off. One spell: eight hundred cash. Guaranteed authentic, but no guarantee you’ll learn it. Buy it?”

“Buy!” Feng Xue didn’t hesitate. Jiu Gu, equally blunt, reached under the table and pulled out a dozen colorful, garish manuals—like a beggar from a kung fu movie—and slapped them on the table: “Pick one. Guaranteed authentic!”

“...” Feng Xue’s lip twitched as he stared at the pile. He couldn’t resist glancing under the table with a shoulder-level view…

Feng Xue was still observing the woman’s expression with a slow pace of speech, but Ninth Aunt simply waved her hand decisively:

One glance nearly gave him cardiac arrest—under the table, a black-faced demon, like the first filial son from Naruto, was sprawled out.

Regarding the imbalance between grain prices and rent: this isn’t a bug. I adjusted the economy based on the late Qing and Republican eras, excluding wartime inflation to establish stable pricing.

As for why a simple sugar-baked bun costs one cash, yet a two-story Western-style villa with courtyard and utilities rents for only three hundred cash monthly:

The issue isn’t cheap housing—it’s expensive grain.

Think of it this way: modern grain is cheap due to mechanized farming, high-yield crops, and cheap fertilizer. But historically, grain was always a major expense.

For example, during the best harvests of the Republic era, rice cost at least one dou (twenty to thirty jin) per silver dollar; in peak years, seven silver dollars per dou was common. Today, even premium rice brands cost under one hundred yuan for thirty jin.

Meanwhile, rent: a Beijing sihe courtyard rented for twenty silver dollars monthly; the most expensive Shanghai apartment—twenty square meters with utilities—cost no more than six silver dollars monthly.

Lu Xun and his brother bought a fully renovated Beijing sihe courtyard for three thousand silver dollars.

So don’t blindly follow marketing posts that equate grain prices to income conversion—it’s deeply flawed.

This small county is like a satellite city near the Magic City—a transportation hub, relatively wealthy, with foreign trading houses and Western-style villas built by rich merchants. But prices won’t be high, or people would just live in the Magic City. Grain prices, however, rise precisely in prosperous, non-agricultural areas.

For example, during the best harvest years of the Republic era, the lowest rice price was still one silver dollar per dou (about twenty to thirty catties); during peak times, seven silver dollars per dou was common. Today, even premium-brand rice with excellent taste rarely costs more than one hundred yuan for thirty catties.

Meanwhile, rent for a Beijing sihe courtyard was about 20 silver dollars per month, while the most expensive 20-square-meter Shanghai residence with water and electricity did not exceed 6 silver dollars per month.

And Mr. Lu Xun and his brother paid just three thousand silver dollars for their elaborately renovated Sihe Academy in Beijing.

So do not always rely on marketing accounts that equate grain prices to calculate income—it is highly inappropriate.

This small county in the book is akin to a satellite county near the Magic City, somewhat of a transportation hub, hence quite wealthy, with some foreign firms, foreign-style buildings, and wealthy merchants who built their own Western-style homes—but prices would not be too high, otherwise it would be better to live in the Magic City. Grain prices, however, ran the opposite way: the more prosperous and non-grain-producing regions, the higher the prices.

If you must find a conversion logic, treat one copper coin as equivalent to ten yuan, and that would be about right.

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(End of Chapter)