Chapter 83: Northeast Local Specialties Arrive

After speaking with his mother and grandmother, he told Big Aunt about the timber.

“Big Aunt, I bought a batch of timber in the Northeast and shipped it back by freight car—it’s already been delivered to the West Courtyard by someone I trusted. Go take a look tomorrow: seven types of wood, three hundred cubic feet.”

Big Aunt nodded and said, “I wondered why I heard thumping outside. Good. The back rooms are cleared out—I’ve already hauled away everything no one wanted. Now that the timber’s here, start tomorrow: build the beams, make the windows, craft the furniture.”

Li Xuewu told Big Aunt, “There’s been a change—I need the West Courtyard for something else. I’ll explain the details tomorrow. Right now, I’ve got to hitch the horse and go out to help Guodong’s family haul some things.”

Liu Yin, seeing Li Xuewu was leaving again right after returning, asked, “What are you hauling in the middle of the night?”

Li Xuewu stopped Big Aunt from coming out, saying he could hitch the horse himself, then replied to Liu Yin, “I don’t even know what it is yet. I’m free tomorrow? No—I’ve got other things to do. I’ll help him tonight.”

Liu Yin knew the situation in Shen Guodong’s household, so she didn’t press further.

Li Xuewu patted his daughter’s small hand, led the horse out the front gate, hitched the cart, and drove toward Wen San’er’s house.

It was pitch dark, the streets empty. Just before reaching the black market, Li Xuewu stopped the cart, placed two barrels of baijiu at the front of the bed, stacked five sacks of radishes and five sacks of potatoes on either side, piled a heap of cabbage in the center, and set a drum of soybean oil at the rear.

Three sacks of wild mushrooms, black fungus, and golden needle mushrooms were stacked behind the baijiu.

Four sacks of red dates, walnuts, hazelnuts, and pine nuts were piled on top of the cabbage.

Seeing the big blue horse shift its hooves—sign it could barely hold up—Li Xuewu stopped adding more, and led the horse slowly into the alley.

The street outside hadn’t started setting up stalls yet—it wouldn’t begin until the small hours.

Li Xuewu drove the cart into the alley and stopped in front of Wen San’er’s house.

He’d surely locked the door at night—no doubt about it; those books were worn to shreds from being flipped through.

Li Xuewu pushed the door—it was locked. He hadn’t doubted Wen San’er’s character for a moment.

It was too late to knock, so he climbed over the wall—easy for Li Xuewu.

He jumped into the courtyard, opened the front gate, parked the cart right outside Wen San’er’s door, then turned to shut the gate.

When he turned back to the door, he saw Wen San’er, Lao Biao, Shen Guodong, and Erhái all there.

Li Xuewu jumped back: “Holy shit, what are you guys doing?!”

The four burst into laughter at his reaction.

Because Li Xuewu feared the cold on his face, he wore a cotton mask and pulled down the earflaps of his hat—none of them could tell he was injured.

Lao Biao grinned and said, “Knew you’d come back these days—and that you’d come at night. Since we’ve all been rushing the pigeon market these nights, we just moved in here.”

Li Xuewu pulled back the felt cover as he said, “Then you guys are interrupting Third Uncle’s reading of Jin Ping Mei.”

“Get lost!” Now that he was familiar with Li Xuewu, Wen San’er dared to joke.

Seeing the felt cover lifted, the four gasped—good heavens, a mountain of local specialties.

Erhái exclaimed, “How much is all this worth?!”

Li Xuewu gently patted Erhái’s head and said, “Look through it slowly later. Go stand watch.”

Then he told the other three: “Clear out Third Uncle’s west room—throw the junk into the yard. Unload the cart right away.”

Erhái, familiar with the routine, left the courtyard to stand watch.

The other three responded, heading for the west room. All strong young men, they cleared the room quickly—it had only held old furniture—and moved the millet and several baskets of eggs into the central room.

Only then did they begin unloading the cart.

Baijiu, radishes, potatoes, cabbage, soybean oil, wild mushrooms, black fungus, golden needle mushrooms, red dates, walnuts, hazelnuts, pine nuts.

The west room was packed to bursting. Even Wen San’er was stunned—how could anyone sleep now?

Li Xuewu, eager to return, gave a concise instruction: “This is only part of it—there’s more. When this batch sells out, I’ll bring another. Same as before: get your customer list ready. We need to get out of this business fast. If the heat rises, once this stock is sold, we’ll have the means to relocate and set up legitimate operations.”

Wen San’er and Lao Biao wanted to ask more details, but Li Xuewu waved them off: “It’s too late tonight. I’m going home to sleep. Keep selling the way you always have. I’ll come find you tomorrow.”

Saying that, Li Xuewu drove off with the cart, and called Erhái back with him.

Wen San’er and the others took the inventory they’d made during storage and began listing tonight’s items and setting prices.

After a while of bustle, it was nearly time to open the stalls. They took a little of each item, wrapped it in paper, and prepared to place it on the stands.

Wen San’er had become somewhat well-known in the area now—many hungry people asked if he had meat.

With so much new stock, they planned to make a big profit.

Among these, potatoes, cabbage, and radishes wouldn’t make money—why had Li Xuewu shipped them all the way from afar?

Because everyone needed them, they were cheap, yet strictly rationed. These weren’t for profit—they were for exchanging coupons, trading for other goods, serving as basic circulating resources.

As for baijiu, soybean oil, wild mushrooms, black fungus, golden needle mushrooms, red dates, walnuts, hazelnuts, and pine nuts—these were the profit items.

The First Evolution

Especially dried goods and dried fruits—once they reached the Supply and Marketing Cooperative, they were immediately seized for internal use; outsiders couldn’t buy them at all.

The pigeon market was about to face a surge of goods. Li Xuewu controlled the pace, refusing to release everything at once.

Little by little. As long as they held out until the New Year, got the West Courtyard organized, and secured storage, delaying the sale of some items by a few months didn’t matter.

Tonight was bound to be busy.

Wen San’er carried a canvas sack, wandering the market, leading one person into the alley, then another.

Erhái guarded the stall, also slipping away during Wen San’er’s breaks to lead people inside.

In the alley, Lao Biao stood guard with a cleaver. When someone wanted something, Wen San’er or Erhái would say what it was, then carry the goods the customer handed over into the courtyard, return with the requested items—all while the customer remained under control.

Because carrying goods was exhausting, only physically strong men like Shen Guodong and Lao Biao took turns—and by the small hours, both were as worn out as donkeys.

The sacks in the west room grew empty, the bags sagged, and more than one barrel of baijiu had been sold.

Goods were scarce, transport was strained, and exchanges across the country were blocked—so everything now seemed expensive and hard to find.

Tonight, the black market crowd had feasted—these dried goods and dried fruits were only available from the Northeast. Wen San’er was ruthless: he raised prices by three jiao per item. Even so, he had to shut down because dawn was coming.