Chapter Fourteen: The Old House and the Warehouse

Shaking his head abruptly, Qiu Junping said, "Isn't it all the same? We've toiled for months, not growing grain but relying solely on this harvest. And if a disaster strikes, it all goes up in smoke. Owing debts is absolutely out of the question." His attitude was resolute. "It's not the same," Zhang Ye replied, shaking his head. "Our method is different from what you call credit."

"Before coming here, we made sure to ask around; your watermelons are usually all sold by the end of August, right? Our payment method also settles accounts at the end of August. We're only taking the goods away in advance. For you, there's no loss," Zhang Ye highlighted the payment time, then explained the pros and cons again.

Qiu Junping frowned, silently pondering. This payment approach was novel—he'd never encountered it before—but it sounded reasonable. It appeared mutually beneficial; after all, if he sold all the watermelons to them, it would spare him a great deal of trouble.

The only issue was—could they be trusted?

At that thought, Qiu Junping glanced at Zhao Haidong. Since the friend came introduced by his own nephew, trust should not be a problem.

Resolving himself, Qiu Junping raised his head and said, "Alright, I agree. Let's draw up an agreement, and it's settled!"

"To a fruitful partnership!" Liu Wentao stood up and shook Qiu Junping's hand vigorously.

"To a fruitful partnership!" Qiu Junping gripped his hand tightly and shook it with equal force.

Both men were decisive and energetic; once the decision was made, they wasted no time. That very evening, all arrangements were finalized. They weighed the melons and settled the accounts, loading the round watermelons onto the trucks.

Nearly eighty thousand jin of watermelons required three trucks and seven or eight round trips. Just the freight alone cost Zhang Ye nearly three hundred yuan—a staggering sum in 1995, when three hundred yuan had impressive purchasing power.

According to their installment payment plan, Zhang Ye handed over seventeen hundred yuan to Zhao Haidong's uncle. The sheer buying power of the renminbi at this time was astonishing; even without paying the full amount, nearly ten thousand watermelons weighing almost eighty thousand jin left Zhang Ye in awe.

After deducting four thousand for shop rent, Zhang Ye still had fourteen thousand left.

Watching truck after truck carry away the watermelons, Liu Wentao's face flushed with excitement. The feeling of running a business filled him with exhilaration.

The commotion in the watermelon field naturally drew attention. While many other melon farmers were fretting over finding buyers through their old connections, the Qiu family had already sold nearly all their watermelons, leaving only a few young ones to grow in the field.

This was a heavy blow to the others. Some quick-thinking individuals immediately sprang into action. They approached Liu Wentao, offering a cigarette and making small talk, hoping to sell their watermelons too.

But in this matter, he was not the decision-maker. Zhang Ye and Zhao Haidong had already returned with the trucks to their store in Lihua County, leaving him in charge. So he could only smoke and deflect their questions, not daring to give a direct answer.

Finally, pressed to the limit, he had no choice but to call Zhang Ye.

Back then, mobile phones were still called "Big Brother"—prohibitively expensive. Zhang Ye couldn't afford one, so after some hassle, when he picked up the landlord's phone and heard the news, he immediately exclaimed, "Buy? Of course we'll buy! I'll bring you the money tomorrow. As long as they accept our terms, we'll take as many as they have. But they'll have to give a ten percent discount—Uncle Qiu was the first to accept our proposal, and he should see the benefit of working with us. As for the others, now that they need us, you have nothing to worry about."

Since he was already in, Zhang Ye decided to go big.

But as soon as he finished speaking, Zhang Ye remembered the cramped, already full store and the heaps of watermelons on the trucks that couldn't be unloaded.

"Wait, Wentao, do you know anywhere we can store them? There's no more room for watermelons!" Zhang Ye quickly stopped Liu Wentao from hanging up, his smile turning wry.

"Store them at my old family house. It's a bit dirty, but after my grandfather passed away, nobody's lived there for years," Zhao Haidong suggested.

Zhang Ye didn't stand on ceremony. "Alright, that'll do."

With that, they locked up the store, rushed with the driver to Zhao Haidong's old family home, and began unloading.

The house was rather old, built with wooden planks sandwiched with lime—sturdier than a simple wooden hut, but still limited. Zhang Ye wasn't picky. Once Zhao Haidong opened the door, they set right to work.

Inside, aside from some sundry items, all the furniture had been moved out, leaving the space empty, cool, and dry—just to Zhang Ye's satisfaction.

By the time half his funds were spent, Zhao Haidong's old house was nearly filled to capacity. During transport, there were minor mishaps—a few broken melons. Zhang Ye didn't blame anyone but simply split them open and ate them right there.

At once, a sweet, cool sensation spread through his body—an indescribable delight. "When it comes to watermelons, nothing beats those from Qiyuan Town," someone said. Eating watermelon in the sweltering heat is the ultimate pleasure, especially after a hard day's work—it's a perfect cure for exhaustion.

Zhang Ye simply nodded, gazing up at the sky, where the blazing sun beat down, distorting the figures on the earth. The soles of his rubber shoes nearly smoked from the heat.

By rights, such weather should have been perfect for Zhang Ye. But his expression was anything but cheerful. "Could my memory be wrong?" He had been reborn for several days now, yet the weather had not produced a single drop of rain, let alone the torrential storms he remembered.

"But now, rain or no rain hardly matters to me anymore." In just a few days, Zhang Ye had nearly swept up all the watermelons in Qiyuan Town. Except for a few who refused his offer, the rest were being delivered to Lihua County one after another.

By now, even Zhao Haidong's old house was no longer sufficient. After some thought, Zhang Ye rented a warehouse in a deserted factory for ten yuan a day, leasing it for a month—finally solving the urgent storage problem.

At this point, Zhang Ye's watermelon stockpile totaled nearly three hundred tons.

"Wentao, Dongzi, come here for a moment—I have something to say." The preparations were mostly complete; they were ready to open for business.

"Alright, what is it?" Liu Wentao was in high spirits these days, brimming with energy and grinning constantly. Everyone who saw him asked if he had received some good news, or if Mei-jie's father had finally agreed to their marriage.

As for Zhao Haidong, he had turned into a regular foodie, eating at least one watermelon a day. His clothes were perpetually stained red, and one day, Zhao's mother caught Zhang Ye and demanded to know where Haidong got so many watermelons, her tone full of concern.

After settling himself, Zhang Ye looked at the store packed full of watermelons and announced, "I've decided—our fruit shop will officially open for business tomorrow."