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4 a.m.
The horizon was tinged with a faint fish-belly white, the sky just beginning to lighten. The streets were empty, with almost no pedestrians in sight. A tricycle slowly made its way through the quiet streets.
A short-haired young man, cool and handsome, wearing a plain white T-shirt, jeans, and white sneakers, pedaled the tricycle with effort. Sitting in the back was a middle-aged woman, carefully guarding three cardboard boxes of free-range eggs. They were Zhao Feng and his mother.
"Feng, slow down a bit. Don't break the eggs," the woman said.
"I'm already going slow. The slower you pedal a tricycle, the harder it gets," Zhao Feng replied, frustrated. He realized that tricycles were easier to ride fast—going slow was exhausting. Not only did it make him sweat and tire him out, but it also felt like he couldn't use his strength properly, which was the most frustrating part.
"Your dad wanted to come, but you insisted on coming with me to sell eggs. Now you know it's not easy," Zhou Qingmei said.
"I just have one question. Why are we using cardboard boxes instead of foam boxes? Aren't you worried the eggs will break?" Zhao Feng asked.
"Oh, I didn't think of that! My little Feng is so clever. We'll use foam boxes tomorrow," Zhou Qingmei exclaimed.
Fifteen minutes later.
The tricycle arrived at the morning market. They found an empty spot and set up their stall. Zhou Qingmei started selling the eggs, but she was too shy to call out to customers. Zhao Feng watched from the side, knowing that to sell quickly, they needed to shout their prices and attract attention.
Zhao Feng tore off a piece of cardboard, took out a marker, and wrote in bold letters, placing it above the eggs:
Free-range farm eggs: 3.5 yuan per jin, 10 yuan for 3 jin.
"Authentic free-range farm eggs! 3.5 yuan per jin, 10 yuan for 3 jin! Come and get them!"
"Freshly laid free-range eggs, still warm! Come take a look!"
"Healthy and nutritious free-range eggs, only 3.5 yuan per jin! Don't miss out!"
"Free-range eggs, wholesale price! You won't lose out, you won't get scammed!"
Zhao Feng stood on the tricycle, shouting at the top of his lungs like a human megaphone—no batteries required. The effect was immediate. Passersby in the morning market turned their heads, and soon a crowd gathered around the stall.
Zhou Qingmei was sweating profusely, busy weighing eggs and collecting money. Fortunately, Zhao Feng helped with the cash, so everything went smoothly. The first wave of customers quickly emptied one cardboard box of eggs.
Zhao Feng set up another box and reminded his mother, "Mom, the price for the free-range eggs is too low. No wonder they're selling so fast."
Zhou Qingmei awkwardly replied, "It's about right. If we charge more, they won't sell, and we'll have to take them back."
Zhao Feng said, "Take a break. I'll start shouting again, or you won't be able to keep up."
Zhou Qingmei counted the money, excited. "We've already made over 200 yuan. Coming to the morning market was the right decision. Your school fees won't be a problem now."
Zhao Feng whispered, "Put the money away. I'm going to start shouting again. Are you ready for another round?"
Zhou Qingmei wiped her sweat and nodded. "Go ahead. Your voice is loud, but don't strain your throat."
Zhao Feng stood on the tricycle and continued shouting, his voice echoing through the market. His throat was starting to feel sore, and he decided that by the afternoon, he'd buy a loudspeaker with a recording function so he wouldn't have to yell anymore.
Another crowd gathered, scrambling to buy the free-range eggs. Zhou Qingmei was busy weighing, while Zhao Feng handled the money. Soon, another box was emptied, leaving only the last one. Customers kept coming, and the two of them were drenched in sweat, working frantically.
"Three jin of eggs. Give me 90 yuan back," a dark-faced man said with a sly smile, holding a bag of eggs and handing over a 100-yuan bill.
Zhao Feng took the bill. Having been scammed with counterfeit money in his past life, he knew to check carefully. He held the bill up to the sunlight to verify its authenticity.
"Hurry up and give me my change. I'm in a rush to get to work. Don't dawdle!" the dark-faced man barked, his expression darkening.
Zhao Feng remained calm. He handed the bill back and said coldly, "No rush. Give me a different one."
The dark-faced man glared, pointing at Zhao Feng's face. "Kid, what are you trying to say?"
Zhao Feng waved the bill and shouted, "You gave me fake money! Did you think I'm too young to notice?"
The entire market fell silent, as if time had stopped.
Zhao Feng's shout echoed through the area. Customers stopped in their tracks, and passersby gathered to watch the commotion.
The dark-faced man blustered, "Who are you accusing? This is your money! Give me my change!"
Zhao Feng shouted, "Is there a manager around? Someone's using counterfeit money! Catch him!"
The dark-faced man's veins bulged on his forehead. He slammed the bag of eggs to the ground, spilling the last box of eggs everywhere. Clenching his fist, he charged at Zhao Feng, growling, "I'll kill you!"
Zhou Qingmei was terrified. As a typical housewife, she had never seen such a street brawl. She backed away, crying out, "Son, run!"
But Zhao Feng, who had worked as a security guard in his past life and was no stranger to fights, wasn't afraid of this thug. He grabbed an iron chain from the tricycle and swung it wildly, striking the dark-faced man's head.
"Ahhh!" The man screamed, clutching his head. Before he could reach Zhao Feng, the chain hit his forehead, drawing blood. He fell to the ground, writhing in pain.
Zhao Feng looped the chain around the man's neck, stepped on his back, and pulled hard. "Trash, pay for the eggs you broke, or I'll kill you."
The dark-faced man's face turned red, his eyes bulging as he struggled to breathe. "Let go, sir! I'll pay, I'll pay!"
Zhao Feng said coldly, "500 yuan. Not a cent less."
The man, desperate, gasped, "Fine, 500 it is!"
Zhao Feng released the chain. The man, battered and bruised, pulled out five 100-yuan bills and handed them over reluctantly.
As the dark-faced man retreated into the crowd, he shouted, "I'll remember you! You'll pay for this!"
Zhao Feng replied indifferently, "If you dare come back tomorrow, I'll hang you from the market arch as the day's main attraction."
The man's face twitched, and he fled into the crowd, disappearing quickly.
Zhao Feng tore the counterfeit bill into pieces and tossed them into the air. He calmly returned to the tricycle and handed the 500 yuan to his mother. "Mom, let's pack up and go home. We'll come back tomorrow."
Zhou Qingmei, still shaken, quickly put the money away and checked Zhao Feng for injuries. "Are you hurt? I was so scared. Let's not come back to the morning market tomorrow. We'll go to the farmers' market instead."
Zhao Feng shook the iron chain and said calmly, "No, we're staying here. This spot is ours now. If anyone dares to cause trouble, I'll beat them to death."
A fruit vendor nearby, an older woman, approached with a grin. "Kid, you're tough. That guy, Black Dog, is a local troublemaker. He's always causing problems at the market. I never thought someone would finally teach him a lesson."
Zhao Feng smiled. "So he's called Black Dog? No wonder he's so annoying. From now on, my mom will be selling eggs here. Auntie, let's look out for each other."