Chapter 2: Make Money First, Stay Alive

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Wang Peng left the place where he had lived for fifteen years, his schoolbag on his back, his heart utterly at peace.

Rebirth meant starting over.

In this life, he wanted to break free from the shackles of his family, study hard and improve himself every day, experience high school and university life, and make up for the regrets of his previous existence.

While he was at it, he would use the knowledge he had gained from his former life to make some money and live this one with style.

“I need to make money first!” Wang Peng thought.

He had to cover his food, clothing, housing, and transportation, as well as his tuition and living expenses. Once he left home, everything cost money.

Although he had never attended school in his previous life, he had earned the money for his younger brother and sister to attend high school.

So he remembered clearly that the miscellaneous fees for one semester of high school came to two hundred yuan, while living expenses amounted to roughly four hundred.

With less than two months before school began, he had to earn six hundred yuan before then if he wanted to sit in the classroom and study without worry.

But how?

He walked slowly, eventually reaching Peace Town, the seat of Ping'an County.

At the boundary between town and countryside stood the Zhao Village market. Stalls filled both sides of the road—some selling clothes, others selling iron pots...

Most of them, however, were watermelon stalls lined up one after another.

“Brother, your watermelons are too expensive. How can you ask fifteen cents a pound?”

“Fifteen cents and you still think that’s expensive? Brother, they sell for thirty cents a pound in the county town.”

“Then why don’t you take them there and sell them at a higher price? You don’t dare, do you? As far as I know, road gangs block every entrance to the city and demand money. By the time you pay them, there’ll be nothing left from selling your melons.”

“Hmph. Sooner or later, the government will execute those damned bandits and road tyrants.”

...

Watching the buyers and sellers haggle, Wang Peng suddenly had an idea.

He knew of a small road leading to the county town, one he could use to enter the city and sell watermelons.

At that time, banditry and extortion along the roads in Ping'an County were rampant. People had neither the habit of calling the police whenever trouble arose nor mobile phones with which to report crimes instantly.

Before long, the county would execute many of those road tyrants and completely curb the chaos of extorting travelers.

He decided to go into the watermelon business. After strolling around the market, he found an old man whose business was the worst.

The man was called Old Du Bump. His face was sallow, and his right hand trembled involuntarily. Every so often, he would pull a bottle of liquor from his pocket and take a sip. Anyone passing near him could smell the alcohol.

Years of heavy drinking had left him with severe alcohol dependence.

Ordinary people did not want to deal with a drunkard, so his business was dreadful. In an entire hour, he had made only two sales.

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Wang Peng walked up to his watermelon stall.

“Uncle, how many melons do you have left on the cart? I’ll take everything at ten cents a pound.”

“What?”

Old Du Bump became so excited that he pulled out his liquor bottle again.

“About four hundred pounds. You want all of them?”

“Forty yuan, and I’ll take them all. And I want more than just this cartload. Tomorrow morning, bring me another cartload, and I’ll pay you for both then. You can leave these melons with me for now. How does that sound?”

“What do you mean? You want credit?”

Old Du Bump hurriedly shook his head, afraid that Wang Peng was a swindler.

“Neither of us knows the other. That won’t do.”

“Don’t reject me so quickly. My name is Wang Peng, and my family lives in Wang Village, in the southwest. You can read, right? I’ll leave this with you as collateral.”

Wang Peng took out his admission notice.

The old man recognized it at a glance. Not long ago, his own grandson had received one as well.

His grandson had ranked two hundred and thirty-eighth in the county. This boy named Wang Peng had ranked first.

“Impressive!”

With trembling fingers, he raised his thumb.

“My name is Du Bump. My village is just north of yours. Come to my house tomorrow and haul away some watermelons.”

He was no longer worried about being cheated. How could the top student in the county’s middle-school entrance examination give up his high-school admission notice over a few dozen yuan?

No one would believe such a thing!

“Thank you, Uncle. Lend me your scale as well. I promise I’ll come to your house tomorrow to buy the watermelons wholesale.”

Only then did Wang Peng finally relax.

He had not expected things to go so smoothly. But on further thought, it made sense. In those days, high-school students were highly valued.

“All right. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Du Bump pocketed the admission notice, pulled out his liquor bottle, took a contented swallow, slapped his backside, and walked away humming a little tune.

Wang Peng pulled his handcart toward the county town. More than four hundred pounds of watermelons made it rather heavy, but fortunately, the road beneath his feet was paved with asphalt, so it was not too difficult to pull.

“It won’t be heavy on the way back.”

He wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve and continued straining forward.

After walking seven or eight miles without stopping, he looked up and saw the Longhai Railway. The railway marked the boundary between town and countryside.

Brrr...

A motor scooter passed him. Its young rider wore a leather jacket and sunglasses, and he turned his head to glance at Wang Peng.

The scooter began to slow and stopped a dozen yards away.

When the cart drew near, the young man removed his sunglasses.

“Are your watermelons ripe?”

The line sounded eerily familiar. Afraid the man might pull a knife, Wang Peng replied with a smile, “Big brother, I run a fruit stall. How could I possibly sell you unripe melons?”

“How much per pound?”

The young man switched off the scooter.

“Thirty cents. If it isn’t sweet, you don’t have to pay.”

Wang Peng hurriedly picked up a mesh sack from the cart.

“Big brother, choose them yourself.”

The young man picked up a watermelon about the size of a soccer ball, slapped it twice, listened to the sound, and placed it in the sack.

Then he chose an even larger one.

“I’ll take two for now. More would be hard to carry.”

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“All right.”

Wang Peng weighed them. Together they came to twenty pounds and one ounce.

“Let’s call it twenty pounds. Six yuan, please.”

“Fine.”

The young man took out his wallet and paid.

Wang Peng accepted the money, placed the two watermelons on the scooter’s footboard, and bowed respectfully to him.

“Thank you for looking after my business, big brother. After eating my melons, may your career rise higher and higher. No wonder you ride a motor scooter.”

The last sentence would be an insult in the future, but at that time it was praise. In those days, anyone who could ride a motor scooter was no ordinary person.

The young man laughed, put on his sunglasses, and started the scooter.

“Go back the way you came. There are several groups of road tyrants near the railway bridge. They specialize in extorting farmers who bring watermelons into the city.”

“All right. Thank you for the warning, big brother.”

Wang Peng thanked him again.

A few courteous words had earned him a kind warning. Sometimes human relationships were just that simple.

“Five-yuan and one-yuan notes from the Fourth Series of currency—what a throwback.”

Wang Peng took out the six yuan and kissed the notes twice. Then he pulled the cart off the asphalt road and turned onto a narrow path beside it.

Ahead lay Han Village. Behind the village was a railway culvert. Beyond the culvert stood a cemetery, and beyond the cemetery was the rear wall of the railway workers’ housing compound.

In his previous life, the compound had been redeveloped, and he had worked on the construction site, helping build apartment blocks for its residents. By chance, he had learned that this route led into the city.

He crossed the cemetery and pulled his cart to the entrance of the housing compound without encountering any of the road tyrants.

That was the secret behind his courage to enter the city and sell watermelons.

“No one knows about this shortcut.”

The corners of Wang Peng’s mouth lifted. He decided to try his luck in the railway housing compound.

He gave the gatekeeper two large watermelons, and the old man cheerfully opened the gate.

“Young fellow, don’t shout too loudly. If you disturb the residents and anger one of the officials, you won’t be allowed in again.”

“All right, I’ll remember. I promise I won’t cause you any trouble.”

With that, Wang Peng walked into the residential quarters.

Each household had its own small courtyard. He knocked on the door of the first residence.

A woman around thirty opened the door and regarded him warily.

Wang Peng smiled.

“Miss, I’m sorry to disturb you. Would you like a watermelon? Watermelons beautify the skin and preserve your youth forever.”

The pleasant, flattering words coming from a child’s mouth dispelled half her suspicion.

The novelty of having the fruit delivered to her door also intrigued her.

“How much are your watermelons?”

She was worried that watermelons delivered to the door would cost more than those sold at the market.