Chapter Fifty-Four: Two Hundred Forty Thousand

By the time Zhang Ye arrived at the fruit shop, it was already past three in the afternoon. Although watermelons were still in high demand, business wasn’t as brisk as before now that other fruit stands had sprung up nearby. Even so, their stall was still doing better than the others. After all, for a while, they had been the only ones selling watermelons, creating a certain reputation and drawing many customers to them.

“How many watermelons do we have left?” Zhang Ye strode over like a boss inspecting his business.

There was still a small heap of watermelons in the shop, a few hundred left, weighing two or three thousand pounds in total. Zhao Haidong and the others weren’t too busy and even had time to play cards. The loser would have to sell watermelons for half an hour as a penalty.

“That’s all we’ve got. Once these are gone, we’re out!” Liu Wentao greeted him and replied.

“Alright, let’s sell until five o’clock. After that, we’ll pack up for the day. Whatever’s left, we’ll split among ourselves. You’ve all worked hard lately—take some home and let your families have a taste,” Zhang Ye said with a smile and a nod.

“Thank you, Brother Ye!”

“Thank you, Brother Ye!” At these words, Liu Guangxiang and the others cheered with delight. Though they’d eaten plenty of watermelon themselves these days, being able to bring some home for their families made them genuinely happy.

Since they had no other jobs, they usually idled about at home, living off their families. At seventeen, eighteen, or twenty years old, pride still mattered. Although they never spoke of it, in their hearts they felt guilty and stifled. Bringing home a few watermelons didn’t prove anything, but it eased their feelings somewhat.

They might have felt tired these past few days, but the sense of fulfillment made it worthwhile. Having work, earning money—these things were like cool water poured over them in the heat of summer, refreshing and satisfying for those who had almost been forgotten by the world.

“Brother Ye, what are your plans next? We want to work with you. With you, we feel secure. Even if… even if there’s no salary, we’re willing to follow you,” Liu Guangxiang suddenly stood up, his face flushed red.

Clearly, he’d been thinking about this for a while, and had probably discussed it with the others. Zhang Ye glanced around and saw the same look of determination on Chen Fang and the others’ faces; he understood at once.

They all knew that the fruit shop owed its current success to Zhang Ye. Every plan, every sales tactic—without his ideas, there was no way they would have made so much money. They wanted to get ahead, to stand out, and sticking with Zhang Ye was the way.

“Guangxiang—” Liu Wentao was dumbfounded, clearly surprised. His cousin hadn’t mentioned this idea to him before.

“It’s only right that you get paid for your work. But to hear you say you want to follow me directly—that’s a bit intimidating! This isn’t some underworld society; we don’t do that kind of initiation here,” Zhang Ye joked, then continued seriously, “As long as there’s work, I’ll prioritize you all. But one thing must be clear: I won’t have anyone who’s lazy or of poor character.” Though he trusted Liu Guangxiang and the others, they hadn’t known each other long, and despite knowing them in his previous life, their interactions had been limited. He had to be careful.

“Don’t worry, Brother Ye! We’re all trustworthy. We won’t cause you any trouble,” Liu Guangxiang promised, overjoyed. He understood that Zhang Ye’s words were a tacit agreement.

Chen Fang, nicknamed ‘Monkey,’ and another robust youth, Du Tao, nodded in eager agreement.

“I’ve watched these boys grow up, Ye. You can count on them,” Liu Wentao added in support. He hadn’t expected his cousin to make this proposal without discussing it first, but now that the words were out, he had to back him up and ease Zhang Ye’s concerns.

“I know. We’ve played together since we were kids—we’re all friends here. Of course I trust you. I just think, as we grow, we’ll need standards,” Zhang Ye explained, then said, “But I actually came here today for business. Let’s have a meeting.”

Lately, they’d been holding frequent meetings—almost giving the air of a proper enterprise. Their ‘meeting room’ was the shop’s back room, where Liu Wentao now lived. It wasn’t spacious, but it sufficed.

After instructing Liu Guangxiang and the others to mind the stall, they headed into the back.

“So, how much have we made in total these past days?” Zhang Ye asked eagerly as soon as they entered.

At this, Zhao Haidong couldn’t contain his excitement. He blurted out the figures before Liu Wentao could speak, recounting the details step by step.

The business over the past three days had far exceeded his expectations. They’d assumed that raising prices and limiting supply would reduce profits, but to their surprise, daily earnings were actually up by half compared to before. Even Zhao Haidong, who used to complain, was now full of admiration for Zhang Ye.

“Two hundred forty thousand?” Zhang Ye was stunned, almost in disbelief.

That was the total profit from all the watermelons sold over the past few days. Because the sum was so large, they’d deposited it in the bank at the close of each day. Zhang Ye had known they’d made good money—daily profits of ten or twenty thousand, plus another thirty or forty thousand from Wu Dongjun’s side—but he hadn’t realized it would add up to such a staggering total.

It was still 1995. Over two hundred thousand was no small sum. In terms of purchasing power, it was worth more than a million in later years.

“Yes, deducting the thirty-two thousand owed to Zhao Haidong’s uncle and the eighteen thousand in your capital, plus the ten thousand to be given to Wu Dongjun, that leaves exactly one hundred eighty thousand. And we haven’t even counted today’s takings—probably at least another twenty thousand. That makes two hundred thousand,” Liu Wentao said, amazed by the numbers he’d just calculated.

At that moment, he couldn’t help but feel a deep respect for Zhang Ye. If not for Zhang Ye’s idea about phased payments, they never would have had enough capital to buy so much stock, nor would they have made so much money. And Zhang Ye’s keen judgment was uncanny—how had he known to sell watermelons, and make such a fortune? Did he have a gift of foresight?

“We’ve struck it rich, we really have…” Zhao Haidong rubbed his hands together, his chubby face shining with excitement, lost in a daydream. Such a sum was truly overwhelming for them.