Chapter 323

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Protagonist:

Chai Mi

When she returned to Sanjiacun, the sun was already slanting west. Over at the Song Family Courtyard, the warehouse main structure was already complete. The red brick walls were laid perfectly straight; the oilcloth paper on the roof was laid seamlessly, edges pressed down with clay, and on top of that a layer of sand mixed with cement was spread — basically finished. Afterward, just a thin coat of fine plaster for smoothing would do.

Right now several young men were up on the roof busy at work. Down below the door and window frames were all installed too; though a bit old, they looked sturdy.

Chai Youqing was squatting at the warehouse entrance, sandpaper in hand, sanding the edge of an old window frame, his expression intent — he hadn't even noticed Chai Mi and the others return. A few wooden boards and tools lay beside him.

"Dad, what are you doing?" Chai Mi stopped the vehicle and asked.

Chai Youqing jumped, the sandpaper nearly slipping from his hand. He looked up, saw Chai Mi, and stood up somewhat awkwardly: "Ah… you're back. This window frame… frame's a bit uneven, wouldn't shut tight, so I… I'm tidying it up."

Chai Mi walked over to look. The window frame had indeed been planed much smoother; a small wooden shim had been added at the hinge side. She tested it — opening and closing was much smoother. She was a little surprised; she hadn't expected her father to have such fine craftsmanship. "Mm, done pretty well."

Although, it didn't really serve any purpose, but since he was doing some work, she felt bad saying anything.

Of course, Chai Mi's demands for this window were low — as long as it opened and closed it was fine. As for whether it was smooth or not, she didn't care.

Anyway, Song Qiushui would handle it when the time came.

This warehouse was basically complete now. Counting meals and miscellaneous expenses, it came to a little under two thousand — not a small sum.

But now Chai Mi was earning more, so she didn't quibble over it.

Building this warehouse was mainly for slaughtering chickens or frying chicken later on. Incidentally to park the vehicle inside. As for wrapping dumplings and such, they actually didn't use this warehouse much.

Chai Mi actually had her own plan: since Song Qiushui didn't do much work, and Chai Mi herself had been wrapping dumplings, slaughtering and frying chickens, and setting up stalls recently, she'd lost a noticeable amount of weight.

This workload — she definitely couldn't sustain it for long.

Later when slaughtering chickens, even frying chickens, if Song Qiushui still didn't do much, it would be best if the Meng Clan could help out.

Currently they basically slaughter chickens at home, clean them, fry them seven- or eight-tenths done at home first, then at the stall location run them through the oil once more. The frying work is mainly done at home.

Of course, because of the big wok issue, although the fried chicken sells okay, the texture is still average — it's just a price advantage.

In a couple days she really needs to get a professional fryer; only then will it work.

Professional work truly needs professional equipment.

Otherwise it really won't do.

Chai Mi watched a while longer, felt everything was done well; the interior floor just needed some bricks laid when the time came.

Mm, when Chai Xiu calculated, she hadn't included the bricks for inside the warehouse; tomorrow they'd have to go haul bricks.

Not many, just a thousand-odd — not especially urgent.

Just then Song Qingshan poked his head out from the roof: "Chai Mi! Main body's done! Oilcloth paper pressed down, mud plaster dried and it's set. Doors and windows installed. Inside floor — tomorrow lay some bricks, tamp them flat, and it'll be usable! This bit of work, no need for your dad to linger here. Bricks and such I'll squeeze in time to lay."

Chai Mi agreed.

Originally they'd agreed dinner at Chai Mi's own place, treating everyone to a good meal, but Song Qingshan disagreed, so they ate at his place again.

Since everything went smoothly, it didn't matter.

Chai Youqing didn't have much to do anyway; he doesn't drink much, and in crowds he's never very at ease. Seeing the work was about done, he picked up his tools and went home with Chai Mi.

Chai Mi returned home, tidied up, washed up simply, then went to help the Meng Clan cook.

Everyone ate happily, drank quite a bit; by the time people left it was nearly nine in the evening.

The next day before dawn fully broke, Chai Mi was woken by "crack-crack" chopping sounds from the courtyard. She frowned, pulled back the curtain — dim gray sky — Chai Youqing was swinging an axe; the ground was scattered with split firewood sticks, mixed with many crookedly split wood chips that had flown off.

"Dad, early morning, what are you making all this racket for?" Chai Mi threw on clothes, pushed the door open and went out, her voice carrying just-woken irritation.

Chai Youqing's motion paused; he wiped sweat, breathing a bit heavy: "Not… not you said frying chicken uses a lot of fire… I thought I'd split more… save delaying your business. This wood's a bit hard, not easy to handle…"

Chai Mi glanced at the crooked firewood sticks and wood chips scattered everywhere, didn't say much. "Fine. If you're going to work, do it in the morning when I'm not home. Do more proper work… Hurry up and wash your face; in a bit help me kill chickens."

"Aye, aye!" Chai Youqing hurriedly put down the axe.

Chai Mi moved deftly: grabbed chickens, slit throats to bleed, scalded feathers, gutted — one smooth flow. Chai Youqing assisted at the side, passing basins, pouring water; occasionally he clumsily tried to help pluck feathers, only making feathers fly everywhere.

"Dad, stand aside, don't make a mess." Chai Mi frowned, took the chicken pecked full of pits from his hand. "You go… you go feed the cattle."

Chai Youqing hurried off.

Chai Xiu came out yawning, holding the third child. Seeing Chai Youqing's bedraggled state, she pursed her lips: "Mom, look at my dad — killing a chicken like it's a matter of life and death."

Su Wan was tending the fire; she sighed and said nothing.

"Xiu'er, after eating go check the warehouse side." Chai Mi, head down, chopping chicken pieces. "Song Qingshan said he's laying floor bricks today; bricks haven't been bought yet. I've no time. You take the money over, have him find someone to buy. Then go see if they're laid flat, if the joints are wide. Say what needs saying, don't be afraid."

"Got it." Chai Xiu answered, but her eyes darted to the chicken wings and legs Chai Mi had separated. "Sister, today can you save me a fried chicken leg? Didn't get any yesterday."

"If they sell out we'll see." Chai Mi dumped the chopped chicken pieces into the large basin, started mixing marinade. "Go, feed the dogs, don't let them bark up a storm."

Chai Xiu went unwillingly.

After marinating the chicken pieces, Chai Mi began the first fry.

Song Qiushui arrived right on time, burst in. She grabbed a just-out-of-the-wok chicken leg, blew on it, bit — "Hot hot hot… fragrant! Chai Mi, fry more today, thirty… no, forty!"

"I know how many to fry." Chai Mi glanced at her. "How's the floor brick at the warehouse? Your dad thought to buy them?"

"All bought, delivered this morning. Why you worrying about this? My dad's watching; a few young guys, quick hands and feet — laying bricks is no effort." Song Qiushui didn't care, grabbed another chicken wing. "Oh right, yesterday that fried chicken frame, Black Whirlwind Zhao Xiaojuan tasted and said it's good, asked if you'd sell cheaper? She wants to take a few back for drinking snacks."

"Sell, why not sell? Two yuan a chicken frame, one fifty a braised chicken neck." Chai Mi's hands didn't stop. "Tell her, if she wants, I'll save some at afternoon pack-up; she'll definitely get a little discount then."

"Deal!" Song Qiushui said.

The inverted donkey loaded full to the brim set off; the sun had just climbed up.

Chai Youqing stood at the courtyard gate, watching them go far, rubbed his hands, turned and picked up a broom to start sweeping the ground full of wood chips and chicken feathers.

Arrived at the big market, stall just set up, yesterday's repeat customers who'd tasted swarmed over.

"Girl, two chicken legs!"

"Give me a chicken wing!"

"Any chicken frames left? Save me one!"

"Don't rush, don't rush! Line up! There's plenty! Hand over the money......" Song Qiushui collected money and made change deftly.

Chai Mi tended two pots, one boiling dumplings, one small oil pot re-frying chicken pieces, seasoning and packing them.

Before noon, the forty chicken legs and wings and dozen-odd braised chicken frames and necks she had brought hit bottom.

The dumplings became the supporting act instead.

After all, dumplings were a bit pricier; with limited purchasing power, the cheaper stuff really sold better.

"Chai Mi! Prepare more tomorrow! Not nearly enough to sell!" Song Qiushui counted the bulging money box, eyes shining, "This business really works! Beats just selling dumplings!"

Chai Mi wiped sweat, a smile on her face too: "Mm, I'll tell Wang Laoban tomorrow, add ten more chickens."

Packing up and heading home, passing the Song Family Courtyard, the newly built warehouse doors and windows were shut tight, broken bricks piled at the door. Chai Xiu stood hands on waist, telling a clan nephew Song Qingshan had brought: "... Here, the brick gaps could fit a finger! And here, uneven! Trips your feet walking on it! My sister said, the warehouse floor must be level, carts going in shouldn't jolt! Redo it!"

The young man, scolded by a little girl, couldn't quite save face, muttering: "What does a little brat know, why does a warehouse floor need to be this level... so many demands for work at your own house."

Song Qingshan hurried over to smooth things over: "Xiu'er's right! It is a bit uneven, hurry up, pry up those bricks, pad with sand and lime and relay them! Carefully!"

Lunch was still at Song Qiushui's house. Chai Mi divided the few fried chicken legs and wings she had deliberately saved among the young men working. Everyone ate with mouths full of oil, praising Chai Mi's skill nonstop.

After eating, Chai Youqing didn't slump like usual, instead sidling up to Chai Mi: "Chai Mi... afternoon... any work this afternoon? Splitting firewood? Or... or killing chickens? I figure you still have to go set up a stall this afternoon? I'll handle the housework."

Chai Mi was a little surprised, glanced at him: "No chicken killing this afternoon, Wang Laoban delivers tomorrow's chickens early morning. You... tidy up the cowshed, lay down some dry straw. And help Mom water the vegetable garden."

"Aye, good, good." Chai Youqing nodded repeatedly.

Song Qiushui sidled over, elbowing Chai Mi: "Hey, your dad turn over a new leaf today? How come he's so eager?"

Chai Mi spread her hands: "That's just him, when he's idle he can't sit still. But, like your dad, once he actually works he falls apart. The type who knows just enough to be dangerous. Don't let him work, he insists; let him work, he botches it."

Song Qiushui nodded: "Put that way, my dad's not bad. At least he doesn't fight to work......"

In the afternoon, Chai Mi deliberately detoured to check the new warehouse. Floor tiles laid level, joints grouted fine. She pushed the door open, inside empty but spacious and bright, floor solid.

"How's it? Passable, right?" Song Qingshan came over with a cigarette dangling.

"Pretty good, Uncle, thanks for everyone's hard work." Chai Mi nodded, "Tomorrow I'll have Da Zhi haul some lime back, whitewash the walls, then it's usable."

"Whitewashing's simple, done in a bit." Song Qingshan actually felt quite grateful to Chai Mi, doing a bit of work he was happy to, just never had the chance before; now seeing Chai Mi arrive, he said: "Chai Mi, no need to come every day, this bit of work is nothing."

"Qiushui lately I see she's earned a fair bit, must have a thousand yuan or so. She even gave her mom five hundred yesterday." Song Qiingshan sighed and continued: "Not to mention other things, before Qiushui... you know. Now she has something to do, can earn a bit of money. All thanks to you. Uncle's not good with words... bricks laid, things tidied up. When the time comes Uncle will arrange something for you."

Chai Mi smiled: "Fine. You say arrange, I'll accept the arrangement."

Then Chai Mi changed tack: "Right, Uncle, I was thinking. This going out to sell fried chicken, actually no technical skill needed, earnings afterward are decent too. We sell one chicken, earn roughly twenty yuan. Can sell twenty or thirty a day, sometimes more sometimes less. I figure, I'm too busy myself, killing and prepping chickens, what if you and Auntie do it? Later I feel if Auntie helps pre-fry the chicken at home, shouldn't be hard either. Then we split the profit half-half... what do you think?"

Song Qingshan froze a moment.

Making money, everyone understands, a truly profitable business, definitely no one willing to share it out.

This is the actual situation.

Just like many money-making industries later on, if it really makes money, they open their own branch companies.

If it doesn't make money, they let you franchise, become a franchisee.

Franchisees, the big head is taken by the other party. And the vast majority still lose money.

Chai Mi and Song Qiushui going out selling fried chicken, though just started, business is passable. And food isn't hard to sell, at most a matter of selling more or less.

Even if Chai Mi did it herself, at most just a bit more hard work.

But, Chai Mi definitely could earn more.

And whatever you say, Song Qingshan knows, Song Qiushui is actually just a foil.

Would his own daughter know how to work?

No.

Song Qiushui is just that Dongguo Xiansheng who faked playing the yu......

Now Chai Mi basically plans to hand this fried chicken matter to the old couple. Actually not complicated, killing chickens doesn't need learning......

The rest is just a bit time-consuming.

And Song Qingshan originally had no land at home, not much work. Meng Shi is idle too, so doing a bit of work naturally no problem.

One chicken, if sold, their family earns ten-odd yuan. Sell twenty a day, that life......

"Chai Mi, how can this do? You letting us two help is what we should. Qiushui doesn't work, just takes money, I'd be ashamed? She just helps you cut some pickled veg, seventy or eighty or a hundred a day, us old couple, already satisfied. This don't give money... we'll help work."

"Money isn't earned by one person. One person can't do it. Without Qiushui and me going out together, I wouldn't even set up a stall." Chai Mi said with a smile.