Chapter Seventy-three: The Loquacious Child

“Heh, little brother, I already had an injury on my leg, it’s just that I strained it again earlier and the wound reopened. It’s nothing serious,” Zhou Zhi replied with a gentle laugh.

He had been so focused on desperately stopping the carriage that he hadn’t noticed it at the time; only now did he feel a dull pain from his thigh.

The child paid no attention to Zhou Zhi’s words and anxiously shouted toward the carriage, “Mother, this young man was hurt saving us just now—his injury is quite serious!”

Inside the carriage, the lady immediately lifted the curtain again and looked over at Zhou Zhi. Seeing the faint stain of fresh blood seeping through his trousers, her expression changed visibly. At that moment, eight or nine breathless servants caught up with the carriage, their faces pale with terror as they addressed the beautiful woman, “Madam, you were frightened just now!”

The lady’s expression softened, “It’s nothing. You all should attend to this young man—if not for him, who knows what misfortune might have befallen my son and me.”

With that, she let the curtain fall once more.

The eight servants dared not be careless and hurriedly crowded around Zhou Zhi, heads bowed as they inspected his wound. The little boy was even more flustered and called out, “Which one of you has medicine powder? Quickly, tend to this young man’s wound!”

The eight servants glanced at one another, each shaking his head gently.

Surrounded on all sides by these people, Zhou Zhi felt rather awkward. For a poor farming boy, injuries were a common thing—this wound was nothing he’d worry about. Seeing them so alarmed made him somewhat uncomfortable.

Zhou Zhi laughed, “It’s fine—you should be on your way. I’m just heading into Gaochang Town myself.”

Though his thigh did ache now, Zhou Zhi gritted his teeth, took a deep stride to his small handcart, bent to grasp the handles, and prepared to leave.

The little boy, seeing Zhou Zhi about to leave just like that, felt a pang of guilt. After thinking for a short moment, he hurried after him. “Big brother, are you really all right? Does your wound hurt?”

The innocent tones and adorable face made Zhou Zhi rather fond of him; he thought to himself, This child is so much like my own little brother, Zhou Shaocheng—how amusing!

Though thinking this, he put on a stern face and replied, “Why are you so talkative, boy? I said it’s nothing, so it’s nothing. You’d best be on your way!”

Zhou Zhi’s serious tone brought a blush to the boy’s cheeks, but soon enough, he cupped his hands politely and said, “Thank you, big brother.”

With that, he turned and returned to the carriage, the servants following close behind, waiting for him to board before setting off.

Such a minor incident was nothing to Zhou Zhi; what mattered now was getting his vegetables to the market and sold.

This was not his first trip to Gaochang Town, though the previous times had all been before he traveled through time. His strongest impression of Gaochang Town was its broad streets. He continued north along the main road until he reached the bustling commercial street that ran east to west—this was the market of Gaochang Town.

Shops lined both sides: Zhang’s Tailor, Li’s Bun Shop, Wang’s Tea House, and countless others with their signs hanging in neat rows, giving the place a lively air.

Though it was still early, many vendors were already hawking their wares. There were plenty of stalls, but not many customers yet. Zhou Zhi chose a spacious spot not far from a silk and cotton shop to park his cart.

He unloaded the vegetables wrapped in quilts, then opened the bundles and took out a bunch each of chives, celery, and spinach, leaving the rest covered.

The weather was too cold; if he exposed all the vegetables, they’d freeze before long.

He’d had experience running a stall during university in his past life, though then he’d sold children’s clothes and hats. Still, he’d picked up some tricks of the trade.

Seeing passersby, Zhou Zhi called out crisply, “Come, come! Fresh vegetables here!”

Sure enough, his shout drew the attention of several people, who stopped to look. Spotting the fresh green vegetables on the cart, they gathered around, marveling.

“Look at that! How did you grow such fresh greens?” they exclaimed in amazement.

“Uncle, would you like a bundle?” Zhou Zhi called eagerly.

A middle-aged man hesitated, but shook his head, “No, I won’t buy.”

Though he didn’t buy, he also didn’t leave, just standing there watching.

That didn’t matter; the worst thing for a small vendor was no crowd. As long as people gathered, buyers would come—Zhou Zhi knew this from experience. He simply smiled amiably and turned his attention to others.

Curiosity drew more and more people until his little stall was surrounded. Everyone chatted noisily, but no one made a purchase.

Zhou Zhi kept smiling as he called, “Fresh vegetables! Chives, spinach, celery—all at low prices!”

This mention of a bargain finally prompted someone to ask, “How much are they?”

“Each bundle is about a jin. Chives are thirty copper coins, spinach and celery are fifty each,” Zhou Zhi replied readily.

He had already settled the prices on his way into town. He’d brought ten bundles of celery and spinach—if all sold, that would be a thousand coins. He had twenty bundles of chives, which would come to six hundred coins if sold out.

At this point in Ming China, about 1,200 copper coins equaled one tael of silver; so selling everything today would earn him more than a tael.

But the person who had asked the price stuck out his tongue, “My goodness! That’s expensive. I can’t afford it—I’ll just go home and chew on turnips and cabbage!”

The others were equally surprised. “In the summer, you can buy a jin of these for a single coin!”

It’s summer now? Zhou Zhi mused inwardly.

He kept his thoughts to himself, maintaining his cheerful sales pitch. Just then, a voice called out from the edge of the crowd, “Zhou Zhi, my worthy friend! At these prices, you’ll never sell your vegetables—the price is far too high!”