Chapter Ten: Pressing the Advantage

More than ten minutes had passed since the movie began, and about a fifth of Lu Kun’s snails remained.

By now, latecomers to the movie were few and far between, and no matter how loudly he hawked, the snails weren’t selling.

Lu Kun realized he was down to two options: either find a new spot to sell the rest of his snails, or wait here until the film ended and hope for a last rush of customers at the exit.

After a brief consideration, he decided to head to the square.

It was a hot evening, and the square, bathed in light, had drawn out plenty of people seeking relief from the heat. Besides, most of the moviegoers who wanted snails had already bought from him; once the movie let out, there probably wouldn’t be many more buyers. Rather than wait here idly for over two hours, he might as well try his luck at the square. If sales were really bad there, he could always come back to the cinema.

With practiced stealth, Lu Kun slipped the wad of small bills from his trouser pockets into the bottom of his basket, covering them with twigs.

Luckily, the aluminum pot holding the snails had cooled down, or he’d have worried about the money getting scorched.

At the square, Lu Kun saw plenty of elders with their grandchildren, cooling off under the streetlights. The adults gathered in groups, some playing cards, others chatting in clusters.

The children, disinclined to stick by their elders, preferred gathering with friends for all sorts of games: tossing stones, hopscotch, shuttlecock, spinning tops…

Of course, there were also those simply running about or shouting for no reason.

At this moment, the kindly elders and lively children all looked to Lu Kun like adorable little bills waiting to be earned.

Old man: “Damn it! Lost again, never win a single hand!”

Children: “Waaah, waaah…” their cries heart-wrenching.

Lu Kun: “…”

Never mind, best to reframe things.

These old men were fierce competitors, not kind at all, and the children, far from merely lively, were downright rowdy.

“Five-spice snails! Two jiao a serving, only two jiao per serving, come try the freshest five-spice snails!”

At his call, a mob of children swarmed over, their numbers growing, forming rings around him.

“Uncle, are your snails tasty?” a plump boy of twelve or thirteen piped up first.

Lu Kun felt a pang at that.

“Good grief. I've lived a whole new life and still can’t reclaim the title of ‘big brother’?”

Looking at the chubby boy, Lu Kun’s eyes brimmed with silent resentment.

“Uncle? The nerve! When I was your age, I was sneaking off to have fun with the widow Zhao in our village!”

He cursed inwardly, jaw clenched, but forced a smile. “Of course they’re delicious. See how juicy they are? Got any pocket money, young man? Want to try a serving?”

At that age, chubby kids were especially drawn to oily treats.

“Uncle, I’ll give you five jiao—can I have three servings?” The boy squinted longingly at the pot.

Well, well. Who’d have thought this kid was a “tycoon” among children, able to produce five jiao just like that.

A fat lamb, ripe for fleecing!

“All right. You have a promising look about you—destined to be a great hero someday!”

Lu Kun feigned hesitation, then agreed, even going so far as to flatter the boy.

He thought to himself: If it weren’t for your cash, I wouldn’t give you the time of day, hmmph.

Efficiently, he packed up three servings for the boy, calling after him, “Come again if you like them!”

“Waaah…”

A child’s wail broke out. Lu Kun turned to see a much smaller chubby boy crying so hard his neck was red. “Granny… granny… brother… hic… brother stole my money…”

Ah, so the five jiao had been snatched from his younger brother.

Watching the little one sitting on the concrete, wailing, Lu Kun felt a peculiar embarrassment. Had he just unwittingly handled stolen goods?

…

Few children actually had money, and those who did only had a jiao or two.

Lu Kun suggested that those with only one jiao combine their coins to buy a serving together, and those with nothing should go ask their grandparents.

…

“Snail seller, four servings over here!”

Card players were always bold! Four servings in one go.

Must’ve just had a big win, a clean sweep. To placate his three disgruntled companions, he treated each to a serving.

“Coming right up!”

Lu Kun’s voice leapt an octave. His hands danced as he packed four servings and delivered them to the card table.

He took the money and made change.

It was the first time that evening he’d received a big bill.

He shook the note; the crisp sound of real money rang out.

Real cash!

Lu Kun felt a surge of relief, then carefully counted out the change.

The old man who’d paid was calm as a mountain, taking the thick wad of small bills without so much as a glance.

Smack!

He slapped the money onto the little table, the sound sharp and clear.

At that moment, Lu Kun thought the old man had the presence of a high-roller, a king of the gambling tables, exuding an aura of dominance.

“Snail seller, two servings at this table.”

“That voice is a bit weak,” was Lu Kun’s first thought.

“Yes, right away, just a moment.”

Even Lu Kun could hear the indifference in his own voice.

Had he become arrogant?

Shaking off his idle thoughts, he finished serving the impatient children and then deftly packed two servings for the new customer.

“Forty cents, two servings of five-spice snails.” Lu Kun handed over the goods and took the money.

The old man’s wrinkled face creased even further as he fished out forty cents for Lu Kun, his hand trembling.

Next to him, the old man who’d just “splurged” eighty cents for four servings twitched his beard and grinned so broadly his smile nearly reached his eyebrows, laughing heartily—like an old man reliving his youthful bravado.

“Give me two more!”

The deeply wrinkled old man, his jaw tight, almost growled the words.

Lu Kun could almost see sparks flying from the man’s eyes!

“All right, coming right up, just watch!”

Lu Kun’s calculations had paid off, and joy bubbled in his voice.

The old man’s expression gradually relaxed.

Lu Kun's hands flew as he packed two more servings, scooping up a generous ladleful of sauce from the bottom of the pot for the old man.

“Sir, I’ve added an extra spoonful of sauce to your two servings. If it’s not enough, just call me; I’ll add more.”

He took another forty cents from the old man and spoke politely.

A moment ago, the old man had looked ready to kill; now, his face was flushed with pleasure, his eyebrows dancing, clearly pleased by Lu Kun’s flattery.

Lu Kun thought: As long as you’re happy, I’ve sold two more servings.

He had managed to squeeze an extra forty cents from the old man, but kept his expression perfectly neutral.

No doubt the old man would be cursing him all the way home!

After a night of cards, feeding mosquitoes, and endless draws, even his stake had been whittled away by that snail-selling boy…