C22 Seven Days in Jail

After Yongzi was brought to the police station by Zhang Qing, he fully recounted the day's events. Wang Caifeng was subsequently detained for seven days for causing trouble and was ordered to compensate for the injured woman's medical bills.

Yongzi purchased a pound of pork, along with some fruit and candy, and took them to the hospital as a peace offering. It was only after this gesture that the hospital consented to discharge the patient. In the end, Yongzi had to part with nearly two months' worth of wages to settle the matter.

Upon returning home, Yongzi was shocked to find Tang Fugui attempting to hang a rope from the ceiling beam. He quickly intervened.

"Dad, what are you doing?" Yongzi asked, alarmed.

Tang Fugui, seething with anger upon seeing Yongzi, grabbed a broom and swung it at his son's back. Yongzi reacted swiftly, catching the broom in mid-air.

"Dad, you can hit me if you must, but at least tell me why!" Yongzi pleaded.

"Why? It's because of you and your mother's antics that our wheat got soaked in the rain!" Tang Fugui fumed, becoming so worked up that he collapsed to the ground, breathless.

Without hesitation, Yongzi hoisted his father onto his back and rushed to the town's hospital. The visit, including various medications, cost him nearly thirty yuan. Staring at the bill, Yongzi slumped to the floor in despair.

There's a saying that good news seldom goes beyond the gate, while bad news spreads far and wide. The troubles of Yongzi's household quickly became the talk of the town, providing ample gossip for the villagers.

Tang Jin, upon hearing the news, could only shake his head and chuckle. "They got what they deserved. There's truth to the saying that a person reaps what they sow," he mused.

At dawn the next day, Tang Jin set off with his bamboo basket into the mountains. By seven or eight o'clock, he had gathered a full basket of fresh mushrooms. In the market, mushrooms fetched about two cents per jin, and with a basket weighing in at roughly fifty to sixty jin, Tang Jin could expect to earn over twenty yuan.

After a hasty meal at home, he shouldered his basket and made his way to town, eager to sell his harvest.

In the town, there was a Towel Factory where the workers enjoyed good benefits, which meant their wallets were comfortably full.

By the time he reached the Towel Factory, it was already noon. The workers were on their lunch break, and as they stepped out to relax, they heard Tang Jin's call.

"Mushrooms, fresh mushrooms!"

The Towel Factory workers, intrigued by Tang Jin's cry, gathered around him.

"Mushrooms, this is the good stuff! Did you cultivate these in a greenhouse or pick them yourself?"

Tang Jin offered a smile.

"I assure you, I picked them myself, just this morning. Take a look at how fresh they are!"

Everyone around him nodded in agreement.

"They do look fresh. What's the price per kilogram?"

"Twenty cents!"

Despite not being strapped for cash, the workers felt that twenty cents was somewhat steep.

"Twenty cents is too expensive. I'll take five kilograms if you sell them for ten cents each," a middle-aged woman proposed.

Tang Jin scratched his head, looking perplexed.

"You can't haggle like that. You're practically slashing it to death. We have no past grudges, so why be so harsh?"

The crowd erupted in laughter.

"Hahaha, Ms. Mao, the gentleman here isn't wrong. You're cutting the price in half; that's a bit too much!"

Ms. Mao just huffed in response to the laughter.

"Sure, the mushrooms are fresh, but they're not worth much in the mountains. Back in my hometown, you can grab handfuls of them after the rain!"

Hearing Ms. Mao's words, the crowd began to lose interest.

"I see," they murmured.

Tang Jin, frustrated by the turn of events, clenched his teeth in irritation.

Ms. Mao stood with her arms crossed, exuding an air of superiority.

"If you sell them for ten cents, I might buy some. But if you won't, you'll have no buyers!"

Tang Jin's stubbornness matched hers.

"Sorry, but no matter how common these might be in the mountains, I've worked hard to gather them. I'd rather not sell at all than sell them for next to nothing!"

After declaring his stance, Tang Jin began to pack up, ready to leave.

Just then, a man dressed in a suit, pushing a bicycle, approached. In those days, owning a bicycle was a sign of wealth or status, as ordinary families didn't have one. Seeing the man, the crowd parted ways.

The man stopped right in front of Tang Jin.

"Hey there, little brother, are those mushrooms?"

Tang Jin looked up at the man.

He had encountered many influential people before, and despite the man's friendly appearance, there was an unmistakable air of authority about him. Clearly, he held a high-ranking position.

Tang Jin nodded.

"Yes, I picked them fresh from the mountain this morning!"

The middle-aged man nodded approvingly.

"They do look very fresh! What's your price?"

"Twenty cents per pound, and the price is firm."

Ms. Mao overheard Tang Jin and scoffed.

"Humph, you naive country boy, do you realize who he is? He's the manager of our Towel Factory. You should be grateful that the manager is even considering your mushrooms, and yet you expect payment!"

Qin Xiu cleared his throat gently, "Ahem, comrade, that's not the way to speak. In the factory, I'm the manager, but out here, I'm just another customer. Do you understand?"

Ms. Mao nodded, "Understood, Manager!"

Qin Xiu then turned his attention to Tang Jin.

"Young man, your mushrooms do look fresh, and the price isn't too steep—it's even cheaper than the market by five cents. That seems fair! Tell you what, I'll take the whole lot. Could you deliver them to the factory for me?"

Tang Jin was thrilled, but realizing the man was the manager of the Towel Factory, he saw an opportunity.

"Manager, I'll deliver the mushrooms for you, but I won't take any money for them!"

Qin Xiu was somewhat taken aback by Tang Jin's statement.

"No money? That won't do. We have a tradition of not exploiting the community, not even for a needle or thread. If you won't take the money, I can't accept the mushrooms!"

Tang Jin smiled, "I won't take the money, true, but I'd like to trade them for towels of equivalent value. How does that sound?"

Qin Xiu burst into laughter.

"Ha! You're quite the businessman, aren't you? We don't usually sell our towels locally, but since you're interested, I'll give them to you at cost—thirty-five cents each. How about that?"

Tang Jin nodded.

"Thank you so much!"

With that, he hoisted the mushrooms onto his back and delivered them to the factory's back cafeteria.