Chapter 19: Setting Up a Stall

Watching Bailu come out of the inner room carrying a cotton pad, Lu Fan said, “Why don’t you just stay home? I can go by myself.”

“It’s fine. Once I put this pad down, it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“Is it really that bruised?”

“Not badly. There are just a few blood marks from the pressure, but no broken skin. That area is thick, so it doesn’t hurt much.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. It’s not like I’ve never been hit on the butt before. It’s my fault for not thinking it through and letting you sit on that bamboo.”

“Really, I’m okay. Look at this pad—it’s filled with cotton. It was sewn by my mom for Baishuang when she was in school. It’s very soft.”

“Alright, then give it a try. If it still hurts when you sit down, stay home.”

“Okay.”

By the time they left, Bailu was walking normally again. She tied the pad to the back seat of the bike and, once seated, smiled at Lu Fan. “See? It doesn’t hurt at all.”

Lu Fan shook his head. Even if you say it doesn’t hurt, I can’t tell.

After mounting the bike, he carefully chose smooth paths to avoid bumps. Along the way, Bailu grew braver, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist.

Following his memory, Lu Fan found the night market location. It was just around five o’clock, so few vendors had set up yet.

He stopped the bike between two parasol trees about five or six meters apart.

“Bailu, how do you like this spot?”

She glanced around and quickly nodded, “Yeah, it’s pretty good!”

“Then this is it. Stand aside and don’t move; I’ll set everything up myself.”

On the way over, Bailu had occasionally shifted her body, which told Lu Fan her injury was still sore, though she hadn’t complained.

Bailu smiled, “I really am fine now. If you don’t believe me, watch me take a few steps.”

“You’re just numb. Here’s what—hold the rope for me. I’ll tie two lines first.”

Lu Fan found some rope and tied two lines between the trees—one about two meters high, the other around one and a half meters.

They began hanging shirts on the ropes.

At this time, blue shirts like these weren’t yet popular. Passersby glanced and moved on, none stopping to ask the price.

After a while, Bailu asked uncertainly, “Do you think we’ll sell anything?”

“Don’t worry. When more people come, it’ll sell. Right now, most are just heading home from work, in a rush, with no mood to shop. Look, that stall nearby hasn’t opened either.”

About ten meters away was a toy stall, set up earlier and already displaying a large array.

Suddenly Lu Fan asked, “What toys does Baishuang like?”

“Huh? I don’t know. Shortly after she was born, my dad fell ill. Given the situation at home, we never bought her toys. She just played with an old cloth doll of mine, though the fabric and stuffing have been replaced many times.”

Lu Fan nodded. “I’ll check it out. What about you? What toys do you like?”

“I’m this old; what toys would I want? How about we wait until we sell these shirts and make some money, then buy her something?”

“No problem, it won’t cost much.”

He walked to the toy stall, first offering a cigarette.

The toy stall owner was young, probably under thirty, with thick eyebrows and large eyes, looking honest and straightforward.

“Hey brother, first day vending?”

“Yeah, big brother. Is this spot fixed? Am I taking someone else’s place?”

“Well, it’s fixed and not fixed.”

Lu Fan was momentarily speechless. I offered you a smoke and you’re giving me riddles?

Seeing his confusion, the man hurried to explain, “The same group runs this night market every year. Once someone comes, they keep their usual spot. But there are no officially assigned spots. New vendors squeeze in as they can. If there’s no room here, they move closer to the street corner. The space is big enough.”

Lu Fan nodded, not worried about taking someone’s spot anymore.

“Is there a fee for this spot?”

“Yes. Soon, some people with red armbands will come to collect. They’re from the local street office. Each spot costs two yuan. Five-meter spots are five yuan, ten-meter spots ten yuan. Mine’s ten yuan.”

“That’s not cheap—three hundred a month.”

“It’s okay. This night market is big, with lots of evening foot traffic. You can easily earn it back, even more than some large daytime markets.”

Lu Fan asked about toy prices. From right to left, prices decreased. The most expensive was fifty yuan for remote-controlled toy cars; the cheapest were two yuan for cloth dolls and small hanging ornaments. There were also keychains for fifty cents.

He had thought of buying Baishuang a cloth doll but they were thirty yuan or more—too pricey. Besides, he had less than fifty yuan in his pocket and needed change for later.

So he chose a plastic pop gun for five yuan, resembling the real Heihei pistol precisely. Lu Dawei had one, which he often played with in elementary school. Later, probably due to regulations, Lu Dawei never brought one back again.

The toy stall owner even threw in a large string of pop bullets, enough for hours of play.

Back at their own stall, Lu Fan had already loaded the bullets into the magazine.

He said to Bailu, “I bought Baishuang a gun. Honestly, it looks real and shoots pretty accurately.”

Then he aimed and fired at the rope tied between the trees.

Bailu paused, then smiled, “Baishuang will definitely love it.”

After another half hour, their first customer arrived.

A middle-aged woman walking her dog pointed at the shirts.

“Miss, how much for these shirts?”

Before Bailu could answer, Lu Fan said, “Ninety-eight yuan each.”

“Ninety-eight? Young man, you’re robbing me. Shirts in the mall cost fifty or sixty.”

“Sis, my quality’s different. These are exported to Europe and America. Look at the cut, then the fabric—scratch-resistant, no pilling, no fading. Mall shirts are thin. Mine are thick and durable. Don’t believe me? Feel it yourself.”

Lu Fan handed her a shirt, and she took it unconsciously.

“Hm, this is thick.”

“Right? Now look at the cut—stiff and straight. Isn’t it better than those limp shirts? The fit really stands out.”

“Sis, are you buying for your child? If you buy once, get quality. Clothes are one part price, one part quality. Cheap doesn’t mean good.”

“These are high-end shirts. Whether worn alone or under a suit, they look classy.”

The woman sized up Lu Fan, holding the shirt against him. “My kid’s about your size. Let me see…”

“No need to bother. I’ll put it on for you.”

Without hesitation, he pulled his T-shirt over his head and tossed it to Bailu, then slipped the shirt on.

He undid his belt and tucked the shirt’s hem entirely into his pants.

“See? Wearing it like this looks sharp, doesn’t it?”