CHAPTER 49: 048: REPERCUSSIONS

The person looked at the wild vegetable bun being handed over like this and was pleased. He took a bite, savoring the large filling and the outer cornmeal coating. He couldn’t figure out how it was made, but after a whole day on the train, having a hot bite like this felt just like being home.

"I must say, it’s delicious," he nodded with satisfaction after finishing.

Hearing him say this, others who had also been on the train all night pulled out money to buy some. After all, one big wild vegetable bun was enough to satisfy an ordinary person, and even a sturdy old fellow would be full after two. In these times, every family struggled, and it was impossible to have never gone hungry.

Those who could travel by train like this weren’t too badly off, but living frugally, they wouldn’t usually spend a few coins on bread or fried dough twists. Seeing the cornmeal wild vegetable buns that were filling yet cheap, they were tempted.

That’s how buying works - as long as someone buys, there will be others who follow.

Seeing the opportunity, Ye Ling called out loudly, "Wild vegetable buns! Cheap and filling with just one! The train is about to leave; miss this village and there will be no next shop!"

"This kid," people on the train laughed.

Still, Ye Ling’s loud shout drew people over. Originally, there was nothing hot to eat on the train, and now seeing this hot and cheap option, people crowded closer. Those who bought the wild vegetable buns were eating, and the aroma wafted over with the steam, increasing everyone’s appetite.

Ye Ling had at least forty wild vegetable buns in her basket, steamed in a big rural pot. By the time the train started, there were only two left. Waving at the departing train, Ye Ling cheerfully ran over to her grandmother.

Old Mrs. Ye had wanted to help all along, but seeing her granddaughter manage the business so well, she just smiled and remained seated on the rock.

"Grandma, look, we have money now." Ye Ling handed the basket to her grandmother, filled with bills and coins of varying denominations crammed at the bottom.

"Good child, Lingzi can earn money now, that’s wonderful." Grandma Ye was happy too, especially glad to see a new stream of income for the family, "Great, this way, I can afford your tuition. When you graduate, your dad will see that we can do it on our own."

"Yes." Having lived twice, Ye Ling felt a surge of pride, "Grandma, we sold exactly forty buns, leaving two for our dinner. You keep the four bucks. Tonight, when we get home, let’s make more dough and steam a big batch. Selling like this, we can make at least five or six bucks a day, at least a hundred bucks a month."

As Ye Ling calculated, she suddenly exclaimed, "Ah, isn’t this like striking it rich."

Old Mrs. Ye, seeing her granddaughter’s demeanor, chuckled, "You child, always so excitable. If it were really this easy, wouldn’t everyone do it? And it’s only the first day; people in the village don’t know yet. When they find out, how can we keep this to ourselves? We’re not expecting to get rich—just enough to see you through school."

Hearing her grandmother, Ye Ling calmed down, sat with the basket, "Grandma, you’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. But our buns are better; they taste better than others’.

"True." Old Mrs. Ye didn’t want to dampen her spirit and glanced at the sky, "It’s noon, let’s get to the field."

"Alright," Ye Ling replied crisply, supporting her grandmother with one hand and holding the basket with the other as they stood up.

The two returned home from the fields, and news of them selling at the station had spread around the village. Wang Changjiang even came to Ye’s house to inquire.

"Auntie, I heard you and Lingzi were selling food at the station?" Wang Changjiang sighed as though it was hard to speak, "Auntie, that’s a capitalist thought. We’re honest folks and can’t think like that. Besides, if you think back a few years, when people passing through our village needed food, would we refuse them? Now taking wild vegetable buns to sell—it’s heartless. You’ve always been reputable in the village, and losing that over this isn’t worth it."

Wang Changjiang’s words were a mix of persuasion and firmness, though he still addressed her as "Auntie," his tone carried some sternness.

Old Mrs. Ye had lived many years and was now being told that earning through her labor was heartless. Her expression turned dark. "Changjiang, you can’t say that. I’ve watched you grow up. Back when the whole country wasn’t liberated, wasn’t your father making a living selling flatbreads? Why is it shameful to earn money through one’s labor? Now you’re the team leader in our production team—if we think like that, you’d be out of a job too."

Ye Ling felt anger rise too, "Uncle Wang, our family is just the two of us—one old, one young. My grandma is too old to work the fields, and what we get from the team isn’t much. We have two mouths to feed; we can’t just sit at home and starve. I’ve never heard of such logic."

This was bullying the weak. Thinking about Wang Changjiang making her grandmother work in the fields made Ye Ling upset, and now bringing up selling things was too much. "Whatever disgrace it brings, it’s on us, not you, Uncle Wang. You don’t need to worry about our family."

Ye Ling couldn’t help but add a jab, thinking it was jealousy. He didn’t want to earn money but also didn’t want others to. She left him some face by not saying it outright.