Mr. Jing and His Little Husband

Chapter 8

The public security management in Qingzhou Prefecture is quite good, so there are rarely any bandits or refugees in the subordinate counties and towns. Even the local ruffians and rogues are relatively well regulated.

For example, in Fuyang Town, the market at the dock is tightly controlled by the local government. Very few ruffians and rogues venture over there. The dock’s management consists of one government official and three hired thugs.

“To the honorable official and the three good men, this is homemade sour plum soup, refreshing and thirst-quenching. It’s hot out here, and you’ve all been working hard,” Jing Yi said as he handed the sour plum soup to the official dressed in official attire and the remaining three cups to the three casually dressed thugs.

The official sent to the dock on this lucrative assignment naturally had some discernment. He accepted the sour plum soup while scanning Jing Yi up and down.

He noticed that Jing Yi spoke clearly, had an assertive yet humble attitude, and carried himself with an impressive demeanor. Although his attire was ordinary, he didn’t look like a peasant.

Setting aside his initial arrogance, the official reluctantly said, “Young man, you’re too kind. Do you want to set up a stall at the dock market? The fee for selling large items is ten wen per day, while for selling small trinkets and food, it’s five wen per day. If you’re selling food and bring your own table and chairs, it’s ten wen per day. Payable daily.”

Jing Yi listened and found it consistent with the information he had previously inquired about. He quickly took out five wen and handed it over.

“Thank you, sir. We sell food, and I offer this sour plum soup for you to taste. If you like it, feel free to visit my stall. It’s located by the fourth willow tree on the north side of the riverbank. You may continue with your tasks, and it won’t take up much of your time.” Jing Yi bowed politely and returned to his stall to start doing business.

The official watched his retreating figure and thought that this man conducted himself quite appropriately. His way of speaking was pleasing, and the official’s eyes were also honest and straightforward. It was rare to see someone unflinching in the presence of an official, indicating that he was capable of causing trouble if provoked.

Before he could finish his thoughts, the exclamations of the thugs startled him. “Boss! This tea, it’s tangy and sweet, damn good!”

“What tea? Didn’t he just say it’s sour plum soup? But boss, taste it quickly. It’s really refreshing, and after drinking it, I don’t feel as hot anymore.”

The official, hearing their conversation, cursed with a smile, “You bunch of paupers, haven’t you ever had something good to drink?”

He took a sip and instantly changed his tone, “Oh? It’s actually quite good. I was thinking that tangy and sweet stuff is something women and children drink, but this really is refreshing and thirst-quenching.”

After a moment of thought, he added a reminder, “But let me tell you, be careful not to casually eat or drink at that stall. That man doesn’t look like an easy target.”

The thugs quickly responded, “You don’t have to worry about that. When have we ever done something like that?”

Jing Yi was unaware that because of the high regard the official had for him, he had saved himself from some minor troubles.

Although these thugs didn’t indulge in excessive eating and drinking, they would sometimes help themselves to something tasty when they saw it. The people running the stalls would feel a

pang in their hearts, but they wouldn’t dare or feel embarrassed to ask for payment.@@@@

After Jing Yi returned, the business began, with him and his father dividing the tasks.

He was in charge of calling out, buying goods, and collecting money, while Jing’s father was responsible for serving tea and soup to the customers. After the customers finished drinking, they would place their bowls and bamboo tubes directly into a small wooden barrel filled with clean water. When they weren’t busy, they would rinse them off and take them out again.

Jing Yi took the money and counted it before putting it into the money box. He instructed his father to serve the soup. At first, Jing Yi’s father was quite worried and had fluctuating emotions. But when he saw that they were selling well, he quickly started his own work and served a bowl of sour plum soup and mung bean soup to the aunt.

The aunt’s purchase seemed to inject vitality into the small stall, and everyone started approaching and inquiring.

Of course, there were also people scared off by the price of the sour plum soup, but there were still people who made continuous purchases. The eight bowls brought quickly ran out and were placed in a small wooden barrel, waiting to be cleaned.

Jing Yi’s father began scooping the soup with a bamboo ladle. In any case, the capacity was not much different, and no one cared about that.

A few more waves of people arrived, and Jing Yi’s father noticed that there were only six empty bamboo ladles left, as he had given four to the constables earlier.

He quickly went to the wooden barrel to clean them. After washing, they had enough bowls and bamboo ladles, but they needed to get another bucket of clean water.

First, they went to the river to fetch water, then they went to the public well to get clean water.

Jing Yi couldn’t leave as he was busy selling fresh goods and had to answer various questions, while his father couldn’t keep up with the pace.

So he had no choice but to let his father go. It took quite some time for him to go and come back. Jing Yi had to handle the money and serve the soup himself, while also answering various questions from time to time. He was busy and couldn’t afford to take a break.

They continued to be busy until noon. The crowd from the morning market had gone home, and the ship owners, merchants, and laborers working at the dock were also heading for lunch. They barely spared a glance at the small stall selling water.

The Jing family’s stall finally had a moment of leisure. Jing Yi went and bought two portions of plain noodles and two scallion oil pancakes for their lunch.

Jing Yi’s father originally said that two steamed buns would be enough to fill his stomach and that he didn’t like eating soupy dishes.

Jing Yi knew that his father found it expensive. They spent more than twenty wen on just one meal, so he wanted to save some money and thought that as long as they ate and didn’t feel hungry, it would be fine.

Jing Yi first appeased his father, suggesting that they eat out today, and from tomorrow onwards, they could bring their own food. As for what they would do tomorrow, they could decide later.

After lunch, he asked his father to rest on the cart and lean against the small wooden barrel to take a short nap. It had indeed been a tiring hour for Jing Yi’s father, not from serving the soup, but from the repeated trips to pour and transport the water.

Taking advantage of the lull in customers, Jing Yi took a moment to count the remaining soup in the three barrels. The mung bean soup was almost depleted, with just a small amount left at the bottom. As for the sour plum soup, approximately one-third remained, while the herbal tea still had more than half left.

The decline in the mung bean soup was expected. It required a lot of effort and skill to make mung bean soup delicious, and not everyone could do it well, let alone adding sugar to it.

However, the success of the sour plum soup was unexpected. It seemed that he underestimated the spending power of the people in the town.

The same goes for the herbal tea. Initially, he thought the cheapest option would sell the best, but it was proven wrong.

He underestimated the consumption structure and business environment of the ancient times, even in a small town like Fuyang. He didn’t complete a thorough market research of the town before, and now there are deviations. It is indeed a shortcoming and a mistake.