Chapter 114: Liu Xing's Suggestion

“Liu Xing, I’m leaving now. From now on, Zhao Gou, Zhao Liang, and the others will be in your care,” Xie Shizitou said with a smile by the roadside as Liu Xing approached.

Behind him, five or six others, including Zhao Gou and Zhao Liang, also smiled kindly at Liu Xing.

“All right!” Liu Xing nodded as he drew near.

“But when you have time, you need to quickly go to the black market and help Zhou Can, teaching him how to make the new iron plow and explaining its principles,” Xie Shizitou couldn’t help but remind him.

“Heh... where is he?” Liu Xing looked around with a smile.

That guy was really quite foolish.

“He’s afraid you’ll scold him, so he left early with Aunt Li,” Xie Shizitou teased.

“Is that so?” Liu Xing shook his head.

Actually, he had time right now, but since that person had left, teaching him was impossible.

“All right, I’m off,” Xie Shizitou said, patting Liu Xing’s shoulder before heading off with the owner of the grain and oil store, Zhong Jun, riding a bicycle into the night.

Liu Xing watched them leave, then turned and headed back.

Zhao Gou and Zhao Liang caught up.

Zhao Gou grinned shyly, “Big brother, are you free tonight? If so, how about we go for a few drinks?”

“To celebrate your new position,” Zhao Liang agreed with a nod.

“Go do whatever you need to. Can’t you see I’m busy?” Liu Xing replied.

“Besides, I’m younger than you, why call me big brother? It feels awkward,” Zhao Gou said.

Liu Xing retorted sharply, causing Zhao Gou and Zhao Liang to shrink back, not daring to argue, and his expression softened. After a sigh, he continued, “You two go back first. Organize all the receipts for the stall fees collected before. If there aren’t any receipts, just list how many permanent shops and temporary stalls there are in the market. That will do.”

Since he had agreed to manage the market for Xie Shizitou, he naturally intended to take his role seriously.

“All right! All right!” Zhao Liang nodded eagerly.

Zhao Gou had no objections either; after a chuckle, he went back with Zhao Liang.

Liu Xing turned and went into the backyard, originally intending to use the restroom, but seeing Nie Quan and Nie Sun still sawing fir wood, he was puzzled and approached them.

“It’s already dark. Aren’t you going home?” he asked.

“I have to return to the construction site soon. If I don’t finish the carpentry here, I won’t be able to explain it to you,” Nie Quan said, looking up with embarrassment and revealing the reason.

“My family will be plowing fields and planting rice seedlings in a couple of days, so I won’t have time to help here anymore,” Nie Sun added.

“I see,” Liu Xing nodded in understanding.

Previously, his father had also taken the black ox home for the same reason: plowing and planting.

For farmers in the early 1980s, transplanting rice seedlings was a top priority. After land was allocated to households, all grains grown and all labor results belonged to the individual.

It was no longer like the era of communal meals where everyone got the same regardless of effort.

Now everyone was working hard to achieve a modestly prosperous life.

What Liu Xing couldn’t understand was why Nie Quan wanted to return to the construction site to work without having received his wages yet.

Thinking of this, he looked at Nie Quan: “Have you found a new site? And a new job?”

“In this era, it’s not easy to find a new job. It was a coworker who introduced me to this site. They said the boss pays wages punctually at the end of each month, so I’m giving it a try. I can’t just sit at home and do nothing,” Nie Quan answered frankly.

“That makes sense,” Liu Xing nodded.

Seeing Nie Quan sit down to rest, Liu Xing moved a chair and sat beside him.

“How much do you get paid per day on the site?” he asked.

“One yuan twenty cents, and no meals included,” Nie Quan, now familiar with Liu Xing, didn’t hide anything.

There was no need to hide anyway; many people in Old House Village knew his daily wage since he wasn’t the only one working on the site.

Nie Sun smiled and, after handing a cigarette to Nie Quan, leaned against the wall smoking.

He smiled because, at least, Nie Quan had a craft to support his family. As for himself, though he was the village group leader, he had to tie his belt tight every day and search for work.

If he couldn’t find work for ten or fifteen days, his family would be in dire straits.

Some might say, “You’re a farmer; how can you starve?”

But that was a huge misunderstanding.

Farmers had to pay grain taxes, and in the early 1980s, the amount was still substantial.

During lean years between harvests, paying these taxes left little for the family’s own consumption.

Last year’s drought had caused such a situation, and now his family’s grain was nearly gone.

Otherwise, why would he shamelessly come to Zhao Dongkui’s house looking for work just to get by?

Liu Xing was aware of these underlying hardships.

After all, as someone born in this era, he knew the farmers’ struggles intimately.

Seeing Nie Quan’s salted pork left untouched on a nearby chair, Liu Xing shook his head: “A day’s wage of one yuan twenty, and you want it paid monthly? If I were you, I’d never go back to the site. With your carpentry skills, you could easily make ten yuan a day at the market.”

“The market bosses don’t want carpenters as long-term workers. If they hire them at all, it’s only for a few days,” Nie Quan said bitterly.

“Your thinking is flawed! Why work for others?” Liu Xing asked, puzzled.

“If I don’t work for others, how do I earn money?” Nie Quan looked at Liu Xing.

Nie Sun also looked at Liu Xing, eyes full of hope.

If they could make a living at the market relying on their own skills, no one would want to work construction, which was truly backbreaking. He had once gone with Nie Quan to work there but fled after less than a day.

“Of course, you should make money from the market!” Liu Xing said with a smile. “Look, you have carpentry skills. On market days, make some stools or eight-immortal tables and sell them. I don’t believe they won’t sell.”

“That’s impossible,” Nie Sun immediately dismissed the idea without hesitation.

“Exactly,” Nie Quan nodded in agreement. “Private sale of wooden goods is not allowed at the market. If you get caught, you’re done for life.”

“That’s an outdated notion,” Liu Xing said, both amused and exasperated, then earnestly explained the policies of reform and opening up to Nie Quan and Nie Sun.

Seeing their confusion, he patiently elaborated on some key terms and concepts.

He spoke for over an hour, answering their questions as well.

But in the end, he realized that due to their limited education, they still couldn’t fully grasp his meaning.

Liu Xing had no choice but to speak directly: “Here’s the deal—I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m going to take over the management of the Old House Village market. That means I have the final say on what’s bought and sold. If you two still have doubts, then there’s nothing I can do.”

He hadn’t wanted to reveal this before officially taking over the market, but seeing Nie Quan and Nie Sun struggling so much, he decided to disclose it early.

Though there were downsides, the benefits were many.

For instance, it would boost his shoe store’s reputation.

The state-run supply and marketing cooperative would no longer give him trouble.

And once word spread that he was managing the market, more villagers would want to set up stalls and do business there. As long as the first pioneers faced no trouble, the market would flourish, no longer stagnating because of the cooperative.

More business meant more stall fees collected.

For market managers like Zhao Gou and Zhao Liang, supporting their families would become quite easy.

“Are you... are you serious?” Nie Quan’s eyes widened, his breath quickening.

Nie Sun was also amazed but knew Liu Xing wasn’t lying, since he knew Xie Zhong, who had come to Zhao Dongkui’s house for a banquet and was the market’s founder with powerful backing.

“Of course it’s true. If you don’t believe me, try making a few small stools to sell at the next market day. If anyone tries to stop you, just give them my name,” Liu Xing smiled.

“I’m going right now!” Nie Quan jumped up excitedly and ran out of the backyard.

Nie Sun happily followed.

As long as trading at the market could be liberalized, it would be easy for them to make money.

“Hey! Don’t run so fast! You’re leaving the salted pork behind?” Liu Xing called after them with a faint smile.

Nie Quan, already on the street, heard this and quickly returned to the backyard.

After taking the salted pork, he smiled sheepishly and thanked Liu Xing before running off again.

There was no helping it—what Liu Xing had just told him was too important.

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