Song Tan’s Chronicle - Chapter 70

Zhang Yanping never imagined that his usual charm would fail him at the farmers’ market, losing out in just three rounds against the experienced market ladies!

Here’s what happened—

He took over Qiao Qiao’s spot, helping Song Tan sell vegetables. It seemed easy enough. He swiftly packed the vegetables and announced the price:

“Sixty.”

The lady’s face tightened.

“Girl, where did you find this helper? He’s no good! Look at him, no joy at all.”

Zhang Yanping incredulously touched his face.

With his tall, white, and chubby look, he was usually adored by middle-aged ladies! How could he fail here?

When the next red-haired lady came, he tried his best to flash an endearing smile.

The red-haired lady was buying a lot this time, mentioning she had developed a new pickling recipe and was sending her creations to her children out of town, who loved it.

However, after Zhang Yanping cheerfully bagged the vetch for her, she critiqued:

“Oh dear, young man, your smile doesn’t compare to Qiao Qiao’s. Don’t force it.”

Zhang Yanping’s smile faltered.

The most devastating comment came from another lady:

“This young man must be thirty, right? Trying to imitate little Qiao Qiao, like an old cucumber painted green…”

Zhang Yanping was fuming!

He was only twenty-six!

Twenty-six!

Only eight years older than Qiao Qiao and still in his prime. How could he be called an old cucumber painted green?

But that lady had already left, and another was lining up, so he continued working begrudgingly.

Near the end of the market day, a man rushed over:

“Miss, where’s my tea?”

He looked around suspiciously.

Zhang Yanping realized this was the loyal fan who ordered just one tael!

Seeing Zhang Yanping, the man looked surprised.

Zhang Yanping: …Is it that surprising?

Seeing the man’s nervous expression, Zhang Yanping asked, “What’s going on?”

The man whispered, “I bought it secretly. The tea is too expensive. I didn’t want my wife to see.”

He took the tea, opened the sealed bag, and unwrapped the small white paper package. After a deep breath, his face lit up with a smile.

“Fragrant! Really fragrant!”

He quickly packed it back and hurried away.

A neighboring vegetable vendor leaned over, curiously looking at Song Tan:

“What are you selling? Why so secretive?”

The way he acted, it seemed like he was selling something illicit.

Song Tan handed over the five pounds of vetch the vendor ordered:

“Freshly picked this morning.”

The vendor swiftly took the bag and carefully hid it behind his stall, just as stealthy as the man with the tea.

Song Tan then answered his question:

“Just some homemade tea. It’s pricey, so people are cautious.”

The vendor’s interest piqued:

“Your family’s tea…”

But Song Tan had no time to linger, quickly packing up her baskets. “Brother Yanping, let’s go.”

…

They were heading to Huacheng, a two-and-a-half-hour drive away.

No need to enter the city, their destination was the outskirts—Xinxin Nursery.

Zhang Yanping’s connections had come through; he found what Song Tan couldn’t online—two hundred golden cherry saplings!

It was early spring, and the golden cherry saplings, heavily pruned last winter, looked bare and unappealing.

But a closer look revealed strong roots and robust life, indicating healthy mature saplings.

Song Tan pointed out a few with weaker roots. The owner, scratching his head, sheepishly smiled:

“Good eye… These original thorny varieties are tough to handle. Been growing them for years with no buyers.”

“You suddenly want them, and I couldn’t quite gather two hundred, so I pulled a few from pots. They’re a bit weaker. I was planning to graft them onto roses…”

As he spoke, he looked reluctant:

“But you’re getting a good deal.”

He quickly pulled out a particularly robust, large sapling from the pile:

“This is the mother plant, very strong. I wouldn’t sell it for fifty yuan in the past!”

Since the owner claimed it was the mother plant, it meant all the saplings were propagated from it. Mother plants were typically stronger.

This was a great deal.

Song Tan was satisfied.

The weaker saplings had slightly underdeveloped roots but were otherwise fine. The mother plant was an unexpected bonus.

Thick and sturdy, its roots could cover six or seven square meters.

Both parties were happy.

Even though they came in person, the owner wouldn’t budge on the three-thousand-yuan price.

Zhang Yanping, feeling at home, led Song Tan around the nursery.

But most plants were ornamental, specialized horticultural varieties that wouldn’t bring significant economic value in the countryside.

Song Tan inspected and finally focused on a sprouting tree in a corner:

“What’s this?”

The owner paused, thinking:

“It’s a green peppercorn tree.”

Peppercorn?

Song Tan’s interest piqued:

“Boss, I won’t haggle over the price. Just give me this tree.”

The owner was puzzled:

“But it’s for my own use. I haven’t really taken care of it…”

“No problem!” Song Tan assured him. “I see this green peppercorn is good. It’s rare in our area.”

The owner calculated silently: a throw-in wouldn’t hurt. Plus, the golden cherry saplings almost ended up wasted. He agreed.

Zhang Yanping didn’t understand why Song Tan wanted a peppercorn tree. It’s just a seasoning; how much could a family use? Why bother planting one?

But Song Tan turned:

“Brother Yanping, I remember grass carp is good for making Sichuan pepper and pickled fish hotpot, right?”

Green and red peppercorn pickled fish… Slurp!

With that, Zhang Yanping felt hungry.

Tan Tan’s goal: Everything she can and wants to eat should be homegrown for the best taste.

Money is secondary.