Chapter 30: Jiang Yuan's Crisis

Cheng Dafu was tempted; as a businessman, his sense for opportunity was keen.
"How about this? I'll offer you four yuan apiece. Just give me all those tapes," Cheng Dafu finally made up his mind to take them.
As the two walked together, Jiang Butong fell into thought.
"Brother, I'm only taking the first batch for now. If they're good sellers, I know a lot of people in the North. When I become your agent up there, the orders will only grow."
Seeing Jiang Butong silent, Cheng Dafu began to feel anxious.
Jiang Butong smiled and extended his hand.
Cheng Dafu was surprised.
Jiang Butong said, "Four yuan it is. Just to make your acquaintance, Mr. Cheng. If I ever head North, I hope you'll look after me."
Cheng Dafu's face broke into a delighted grin. "No problem, no problem. If you ever come North, whatever you need, just say the word—I'd go through fire and water for you!"
Soon after, Jiang Butong followed Cheng Dafu to Wang Yun's shop.
In the end, the remaining one hundred and fifty tapes were sold at four yuan each. Cheng Dafu paid six hundred yuan without hesitation.
Jiang Butong and Wang Yun's initial capital of one thousand yuan had yielded a total income of two thousand three hundred yuan, not counting the fifty tapes Chen Pan'er had taken.
Cheng Dafu and Wang Yun exchanged pager numbers before leaving with his tapes.
The shop was left with only Jiang Butong and Wang Yun.
Wang Yun asked, "We could have sold those tapes for more. Why give them to him for four yuan?"
Jiang Butong shook his head. "If you'd insisted on five yuan, we might not have closed the deal. It's better to earn a little less and open up the northern market."
Wang Yun seemed only half convinced. She simply felt it was a pity to make a smaller profit.
"You should think of it this way: a lower margin brings higher volume. There's no competition for tapes yet, but soon enough, others will start copying us. The sooner we secure our market, the better for future business. Sometimes, you can't just focus on the cake in front of you."
Jiang Butong explained patiently.
Listening to his analysis, Wang Yun finally understood his strategy: to profit from the information gap, making quick money before everyone else caught on. Once the flood of competitors arrived, they'd have already pocketed most of their earnings.
That's why Jiang Butong chose a fast turnover approach.
"What about the two thousand yuan worth of tapes we ordered? How do you plan to sell those?" Wang Yun asked.
Jiang Butong pondered for a moment, then replied, "Have you had many buyers in the last couple of days? Where are most of them from?"
He needed this data to gauge the future sales space for tapes.
Wang Yun opened her little notebook. "Three from Hunan and Hubei, two from the North, one from the Mountain City, and finally Cheng Dafu from the capital."
Jiang Butong took the notebook. It held records of sales and customer names, most at five yuan apiece, except for Cheng Dafu at four yuan.
The best-selling tape was "Boundless Skies," accounting for more than half the sales.
"We're mainly wholesalers: as long as the volume moves, we'll profit. By the way, when will the new batch of tapes arrive?"
Wang Yun checked the time. It was nearly evening. "I'll pick them up tonight, so they'll be in the shop by tomorrow morning."
Jiang Butong nodded. "Once those thousand tapes arrive, sell them off as quickly as possible. If someone wants a large quantity, give them a bit of a discount, and try to negotiate a lower price with your supplier."
Wang Yun nodded, anticipation rising in her heart.
Suddenly, she remembered something and asked, "That girl just now—are you planning to court her?"
Jiang Butong was caught off guard. He glanced at Wang Yun, wondering if the young widow was jealous.
"Why would you say that?"
Wang Yun rolled her eyes and teased, "If you weren't interested, why give her so many tapes and put the bill in your name?"
Jiang Butong scratched his nose. Although neither woman was particularly close to him, he sensed a budding rivalry.
"She's a classmate. Her family's not well-off—I just want to help her out."
He laughed it off, brushing aside Wang Yun's suspicion, then took his leave.
"Wait a moment!" Wang Yun called after him with a flirtatious smile.
"Is there something else?" Jiang Butong turned.
"Tonight, my treat. Would you join me for dinner?" Wang Yun asked tentatively.
Jiang Butong was about to refuse, but thought better of it—Wang Yun wouldn't invite him for no reason.
He guessed at her intention, and when he saw her sparkling eyes, he said, "All right, maybe I'll drop by your place too."
"In your dreams," Wang Yun replied with a smug little snort as she locked up, ready to finish work.
Watching her leave, Jiang Butong realized he'd guessed right: she was testing him, probing the place she held in his heart compared to Chen Pan'er.
She was quite clever, he thought with a silent chuckle, then went off to find Chen Pan'er.
It was nearly evening. Jiang Butong arrived at Chen Pan'er’s stall and saw her packing up—the tapes were clearly sold out.
Chen Pan'er saw him and her face lit up with excitement. "Guess how much I sold today?"
Jiang Butong sighed inwardly. Women always made him guess things—why couldn't they just be direct?
"Five hundred?" he speculated, though he grumbled inwardly.
Chen Pan'er shook her head, looking pleased he hadn't guessed correctly.
Jiang Butong suddenly noticed not only were the tapes gone, but even the tape recorder Wang Yun had lent her was missing.
"You sold the tape recorder too?" he asked in surprise.
"Yes. But I don’t know how much it cost, so I worry I sold it too cheap," Chen Pan'er said anxiously, looking to Jiang Butong for reassurance.
"For how much did you sell it?" he asked.
"Eighty... eighty yuan," she said, stealing a glance at him.
Jiang Butong relaxed; eighty wasn't a loss—he could just give Wang Yun sixty-five yuan for it.
"That's fine. It cost sixty-five. Don't worry," he comforted her.
"Really?" Chen Pan'er asked.
"Really. Looks like you made a good profit today," Jiang Butong said, giving her nose a playful pinch.
Chen Pan'er, now very familiar with Jiang Butong, especially after a prosperous day, allowed him this little gesture.
"I made five hundred and forty yuan today," she said, taking out the money from her waist pouch and counting it like a little miser.
Then, she pulled out a hundred yuan and handed it to Jiang Butong.
"What’s this for?" he asked.
"For the tape recorder—you'll need to pay Wang Yun, right?"
"It’s fine, I’ll handle it," Jiang Butong replied, not taking the money.
"No, you take it," Chen Pan'er insisted, stuffing the money into his pocket.
"Come on, dinner’s on me," she said cheerfully, hugging his arm.
Jiang Butong nodded, silently resolving to keep Wang Yun and Chen Pan'er apart in the future—otherwise, if both invited him to dinner at the same time, he’d be in trouble.
Just as they were about to leave,
Jiang Butong suddenly heard shouts and the clash of steel pipes from the nearby alley.
His heart leapt—Jiang Yuan managed the parking lot nearby. Could it be him?
With that thought, he hurried over to take a look.
What he saw sent shockwaves through him.
In the alley, two groups of seven or eight men were locked in a brawl. At the center, Jiang Yuan's face was smeared with blood, looking fierce and wild as he swung a steel pipe like a warrior.
Jiang Butong quickly assessed the situation: Jiang Yuan had only two sidekicks, both badly hurt.
Five or six men surrounded Jiang Yuan with weapons, hesitant to rush him but attempting to exhaust his strength.
In just moments, fresh wounds appeared on Jiang Yuan’s face and shoulder.
Jiang Butong turned to Chen Pan'er and said, "Go ahead—go to Chen’s Restaurant and call Brother Chen over!"