Chapter 600: You Want to Rob Me?

In the dead of night, He Yuzhu gave himself a simple disguise: he stuck on a thick beard, put on a straw hat, and donned a pair of glasses, only then setting off to sneak toward the black market at Deshengmen.

The so-called Deshengmen black market was actually located on the riverside land outside the city wall, right by the moat.

The city wall had long since been torn down, leaving only broken bricks and tiles scattered across the ground, a few dilapidated work sheds, and weeds growing half a person high.

Every night, people from all walks of life gathered here to conduct shady business.

He Yuzhu parked his vehicle far away, fearing someone might recognize his identity.

He pulled the brim of his hat down low, covering most of his face.

There were people guarding the entrance to the black market; as soon as he approached, two men jumped out from the shadows.

"Buying or selling?" a big, burly man blocked his path.

"Selling," He Yuzhu said, lowering his voice.

"Pay one yuan."

He Yuzhu fished a crumpled banknote out of his pocket and handed it over.

The gatekeeper took it, glanced at him under the dim light of a streetlamp, and seeing he only had a bag on his back, didn't ask any more questions and waved him through.

He Yuzhu ducked into a broken shed and took a bag of wheat out from his space.

Carrying the grain, he found a spot next to a pile of city wall bricks, squatted down, untied the bag, and revealed the golden wheat inside.

Before long, a young man crept over and asked in a low voice, "Mister, how... how much is this?"

"Fifty cents a jin," He Yuzhu said, feigning a hoarse voice.

"What?" The young man's eyes nearly popped out; he stared at He Yuzhu for a good while before asking again, "Really selling for fifty cents? There isn't... there isn't sand mixed in at the bottom, is there?"

"When I pour the wheat into your bag, won't you be able to see at a glance if there's sand?" He Yuzhu said in a flat, calm tone.

Without another word, the young man whipped a large flour sack from behind his waist and said urgently, "Hurry and fill it for me! My home is far away."

He Yuzhu raised a hand: "Pay first."

The young man glanced left and right, then quickly pulled out twenty-five yuan and shoved it into his hand.

"Hold the bag open." He Yuzhu lifted his sack and poured it with a rustling sound into the other's bag; the wheat shimmered with a warm yellow luster under the moonlight as it cascaded down.

The young man stared intently, and only when he saw that every grain of wheat was plump did a smile bloom on his face.

He knew clearly in his heart—wheat of this quality went for at least one yuan and eighty cents a jin on the black market; he had hit the jackpot today!

Once the bag was full, he hurriedly tied it shut with hemp rope and ran off with it on his back, not daring to look back for fear that He Yuzhu might change his mind.

Watching his retreating figure, He Yuzhu couldn't help but curl the corners of his mouth.

With a thought, the empty bag in his hand was full again.

In less than half an hour, he had sold nearly a thousand jin.

Just as he was squatting there, a middle-aged man strolled over with a steady gait, reached out to grab a handful of wheat, chewed it, nodded, and asked, "Friend, your wheat is good. How much are you selling it for?"

"Fifty cents." He Yuzhu held up five fingers.

"Friend, how much do you have?" The middle-aged man's eyes lit up.

He Yuzhu smiled: "However much you want, I have that much."

The middle-aged man said with a hint of provocation: "Then sell me one hundred thousand jin."

"To buy that much, you need to show identification," He Yuzhu said.

The middle-aged man stared at him as if he were an idiot: "Are you sick?"

"Do you have medicine?" He Yuzhu replied offhandedly.

The middle-aged man choked for a moment, but for the sake of the grain, he held his temper: "You can't sell me that much, then selling me two thousand jin is fine, right?"

"Still the same thing: I don't sell to resellers. If it's for your own consumption, even if you're a Logistics Director at some factory, show me your ID and I'll sell to you," He Yuzhu said unhurriedly.

"Unreasonable!" The middle-aged man shook his head and turned to leave.

He Yuzhu didn't care and continued squatting there to sell his goods.

Not long after, a group of people came swarming over. The leader was a bearded man with a fierce face who approached and pretended to be friendly: "Friend, I hear you have plenty of grain? We want to buy a hundred jin each, is that okay?"

He Yuzhu glanced over—there were about a dozen of them, all burly and strong, clearly not the type to be trifled with. He didn't change his expression and nodded: "Fine, follow me to where the grain is hidden to pick it up."

He didn't refuse them; he wanted to beat them at their own game.

He Yuzhu led the group through several twists and turns to an abandoned work shed in Guanxiang Hutong. He had already scouted this place; with a thought, three thousand jin of wheat appeared out of thin air in the shed, stacked neatly in piles.

Seeing the mountain of grain bags, the bearded man swallowed hard: "Friend... can we inspect the goods?"

He Yuzhu took out a grain probe used in granaries and handed it over. The bearded man took it and probed bag after bag; the wheat pulled out was plump and full, and he nodded repeatedly.

Putting down the probe, he asked with a hint of threat: "Friend, we are grain resellers. Will you still sell to us?"

"I saw that you were grain resellers a long time ago. But you're quite honest." He Yuzhu paused, "I can sell to you for fifty cents, but when you resell it, you cannot charge more than eighty cents a jin. If you agree to this condition, I can supply you continuously."

The bearded man was stunned: "Friend, what are you trying to gain?"

"I don't want to see poor people starve to death," He Yuzhu said lightly.

The bearded man was silent for a few seconds, then nodded heavily: "Friend, you're righteous! As long as you supply the goods, I'll sell at that price every day."

He Yuzhu pointed to the pile of grain: "Take these three thousand jin first. If I find out you've gone back on your word, don't expect to get a single grain from me ever again."

"Rest assured, we are also people who value our reputation," the bearded man promised, patting his chest.

He and the dozen or so others pooled together fifteen hundred yuan, handed it to He Yuzhu, and added: "Friend, there are over a hundred of us doing this in the various black markets of Beijing. Can we all get our goods from you?"

"As long as you sell at the price I set and listen to me, I will supply you!" He Yuzhu answered decisively.

"Then do you have more goods tonight? We'll go back and pool some money; before dawn, can you give us another batch?" the bearded man asked.

He Yuzhu looked at the sky and nodded: "Fine. At Bingjiaokou, there are two old bungalows at the entrance of Pichai Hutong that are unoccupied; there's a Soul-Calling Banner hanging at the entrance. Go there around three-thirty."

After sending that group off, He Yuzhu returned to the black market to continue selling.

The news spread as if it had wings. Even the small-time buyers who originally only wanted a few jin crowded over to buy by the bag.

Before long, He Yuzhu was surrounded by three layers of people inside and out.

"There are too many eyes and ears here; follow me outside to conduct the trade," He Yuzhu said, lowering his voice.

"Alright!" the group responded in low voices.

He walked in the lead, followed by twenty or thirty people, looking like a grand caravan.

They arrived at those dilapidated single-story houses at Bingjiaokou.

Those following him were startled and said, "Why is there a Soul-Calling Banner hanging at the entrance? Is there a dead person inside?"

He Yuzhu pushed open the door and said, "If I didn't hang this thing up, the wheat would have been stolen long ago. There are over three thousand catties of wheat inside; how much does each of you want?"

"I want one hundred catties!"

"I want fifty catties!"

The crowd swarmed inside.

He Yuzhu sold it only one bag at a time; those who couldn't scrape together enough money could only watch longingly and disperse in disappointment.

After selling this batch of wheat, He Yuzhu had just reached the entrance of the alley when a dozen burly men suddenly lunged out from the darkness, blocking his path in unison.

He Yuzhu stopped in his tracks, his expression unchanged, and as he raised his eyes to scan the circle, he spoke indifferently:

"You all want to rob me."