Sea Ginseng

The pickup sped along and, in just over ten minutes, turned into the county’s agricultural market. After parking, Chen Jue carried the foam box and followed the uncle into the market, stopping at a stall in the center sporting a sign for premium seafood.

In front of the stall were numerous tanks bubbling with oxygen, each containing impressively large seafood. There were black golden abalones as big as a palm, scallops larger than a face, and a coconut crab so large it filled an entire tank. Many of the creatures looked odd and unfamiliar, even to Chen Jue, who couldn’t identify them at a glance.

They were clearly not local to the East Sea but imported delicacies, their price tags shockingly high—well beyond the reach of ordinary households.

“Bucktooth!” the uncle called out. “Come out, there’s a big haul!” He strode into the shop like a regular. It was still just past six in the morning; the owner was probably still yawning.

At the uncle's shout, a tall, thin man with a thick gold chain around his neck emerged from the shop. As his nickname suggested, his buckteeth protruded, lips unable to close, and his eyes were red from frequent late nights.

When he saw Chen Jue enter with the large box, Bucktooth immediately perked up. “Old Yu! Long time no see. What big catch have you got today?”

The uncle wasted no words and had Chen Jue set the box on a tea table inside. He opened the foam lid and then the insulated inner box. “Caught fresh this morning. Give us a price.”

“Whoa! A golden croaker!” Bucktooth’s eyes widened, startled by the size of the fish in the box. He hurried to gently lift it and place it on the large electronic scale in the shop.

“Eight jin, two liang!” he announced. “This is excellent, real quality! I haven’t seen a golden croaker this big in years.” Bucktooth grinned, leaning in to sniff the fish and confirm it was fresh from the water, not left overnight. Satisfied, he quickly returned the fish to the insulated box for continued chilling.

“What’s the price?” the uncle asked directly.

“Golden croaker goes for market price. Eight jin—I’ll give you ten thousand per jin,” Bucktooth declared.

“You trying to cheat me, Bucktooth Sun? Last year, a seven-jin one sold for twelve thousand a jin, and this one’s over eight jin. How can it be just ten thousand? You buying or not? If not, I’ll take it to Limp.” The uncle’s voice rose.

“Come on, Old Yu! That price was for just before New Year’s. Normally, seven jin is six or seven thousand a jin.”

“Forget it, I’ll check with some big bosses,” Bucktooth said, worried the uncle would walk out and he'd lose the deal. He quickly pulled out his phone and made a few calls.

After several minutes of rapid conversation, he said someone from a big hotel in Wenshi had reserved it. With some haggling, he bumped the price up to thirteen thousand per jin.

“That’s about as high as it gets these days. If you’re not happy, I can take you to another shop,” the uncle whispered to Chen Jue.

“Sell it,” Chen Jue replied—he disliked trouble, and the uncle was already signaling him to agree.

What followed was a formal signing and bank transfer—this was a hundred-thousand-yuan transaction, not something settled with a quick mobile payment at a roadside stall.

Glancing at the sales contract, Chen Jue saw it was a standard transaction record. He signed his name and phone number with a flourish.

When Bucktooth learned the big croaker hadn’t been caught by the uncle himself, he was surprised and asked, “Old Yu, so the fish isn’t yours?”

“What does it matter? This is my nephew. Just transfer the money!” the uncle replied.

“Heh, I grew up in your village and never heard of a nephew like this,” Bucktooth laughed, aware of the little white lie but unfazed. He got Chen Jue’s bank details and transferred 106,600 yuan on the spot.

Chen Jue received the bank notification and checked the app to confirm the payment. Satisfied, he sat down with the uncle for tea, glancing around at the stall’s furnishings. Meanwhile, Bucktooth disappeared into the back, presumably to stow the fish in a larger freezer.

Having previously been too busy with the sale to look around, Chen Jue now took in the shop. Besides the tanks of live seafood up front, there were also many jars of dried goods lining the shelves.

“Uncle, is that fish maw?” Chen Jue pointed to a row of sealed glass jars filled with yellowish, dried pieces.

“Yes! It’s very nourishing. Women on our island almost always eat fish maw stews during postpartum confinement,” the uncle explained.

“Thinking of buying some?” he asked.

“I’d like to take some home,” Chen Jue replied. He’d always relied on traditional tonics like herbal broths and pills, forgetting about such coastal treasures as fish maw. The idea came to him just now while selling the fish, recalling how his family used to praise its restorative powers.

Fish maw, also known as swim bladder, is a prized dried delicacy, as famous as bird’s nest and shark fin, and often called “ginseng of the sea.” It’s mainly composed of high-grade collagen, rich in vitamins and trace elements like calcium, zinc, iron, and selenium. Its protein content is as high as 84.2%, with only 0.2% fat—making it easily absorbed by the body.

That was what Chen Jue found online as he quickly browsed on his phone, deciding that fish maw was perfect for his training and nutrition and intending to buy a few jin to take home.

At that moment, Bucktooth emerged from the back. Seeing Chen Jue interested in the fish maw, he grinned widely—what good fortune to make two sales from one customer in a single morning. He quoted a price of two thousand per jin.

“My fish maw is the real deal, the biggest pieces on the market—not the cheap stuff you see elsewhere for a few hundred a jin,” he boasted, thumping his chest. “If you can find bigger or better in the whole market, I’ll give you a jar for free!”

Even the uncle nodded approvingly, so Chen Jue decided on the spot to buy five jin, and Bucktooth threw in a few packs of stew ingredients as a bonus. They sat for a while longer, chatting and sipping tea, before Chen Jue and the uncle finally left the high-end seafood shop.