Chapter 20: Further Collaboration

Jiang Butong never expected everyone to make a purchase; he simply treated it as playing music for free. The tape player was borrowed from Wang Yun. According to his expected ratio of sales—one in twenty—Jiang Butong was satisfied with the results.

As he anticipated, most of the people, clad in their work uniforms, listened for a short while, asked a few questions, then left. They, too, wished to buy tapes but simply could not afford a tape player. In this era, a tape player was quite expensive; it would be a few years before cassette players became popular and prices began to fall.

As dusk approached, Chen Pan'er had sold most of her jewelry, with only a handful left. She counted her inventory and realized that the sales were slower than her first outing; clearly, the local demand was limited. Unintentionally, she glanced over at Jiang Butong and saw that he, too, had sold plenty—of the fifty tapes, just a few remained.

After packing up, Chen Pan'er walked over to Jiang Butong's stall.

“How many have you sold?” she asked.

“More than forty,” Jiang Butong replied, looking at the handful of tapes left.

Chen Pan'er was stunned. Even conservatively, forty tapes meant four hundred yuan in revenue. She remembered that Jiang Butong had invested only two hundred yuan in these tapes. In the span of a single afternoon, he’d earned two hundred yuan.

She had just tallied her own profits: with a thirty yuan investment, she’d made just over sixty yuan, for a profit of only thirty.

Jiang Butong smiled. “Your profits are low because your average sale price is low. If you raise it, your returns will be much more impressive.”

For the first time, Chen Pan'er began to doubt herself. She’d thought her sales were decent, but compared to Jiang Butong, the gap was too wide.

“Are these tapes really that easy to sell?” she asked.

Jiang Butong shook his head. The reason for his success was that he knew the music charts for the next few years—he knew which songs would become hits and which would fade into obscurity. Anyone else, not knowing which songs would be popular, would order tapes differently. After all, there are a thousand Hamlets in a thousand hearts. A shopkeeper might stock up on an album he liked, only to find customers uninterested, and the inventory would become dead weight.

“Are you thinking of selling tapes too?” Jiang Butong looked at Chen Pan'er.

She nodded. She really did want to sell tapes—there was just so much profit.

After they’d finished packing up, Jiang Yuan arrived with his brothers.

“How’s business, Tong?” Jiang Yuan asked.

Jiang Butong waved his handful of cash and handed Jiang Yuan a hundred yuan.

“What’s this for?” Jiang Yuan hesitated.

“This isn’t for you—it’s for your brothers. Even if you won’t take it, you can’t expect your brothers to have come for nothing.”

Jiang Yuan hesitated, then accepted the money. After all, he wasn’t alone now—he had his crew to consider.

“Bring more people tomorrow,” Jiang Butong said.

Jiang Yuan nodded. He knew that after what happened to Langzi today, Hou San would have heard the news by now. A showdown was inevitable tomorrow.

“Brother Yuan, take Chen Pan'er with you. I have some matters to handle,” Jiang Butong said, handing the bag of tapes and the tape player to Chen Pan'er.

“You’re not coming with us? What if Hou San finds you…” Jiang Yuan sounded worried.

“Don’t worry—he’s not interested in me right now.”

Jiang Butong gave a few more instructions to Chen Pan'er and then headed toward the wholesale market. Now that tapes were selling well, he’d decided to keep at it and talk further with Wang Yun.

At Wang Yun’s shop, she was just about to close up. Perhaps thanks to Jiang Butong’s music earlier, several customers had come in asking about new tapes.

“Sister Wang, closing up already?” Jiang Butong patted her on the shoulder.

Wang Yun turned, saw Jiang Butong, and smiled. “Of course—it’s not like I’ve got much business.”

“Come on, let me treat you to dinner,” Jiang Butong said, helping her pull down the shutter.

“Oh? Judging by your good spirits, did you sell all those tapes?” Wang Yun teased.

“Pretty much—just a few left.” He locked the shop and handed her the keys.

Now it was Wang Yun’s turn to be surprised. She’d expected the tapes to sell well, but not to sell out so quickly. Two hundred yuan invested, and if all were sold, there was a two- to three-hundred-yuan profit—more than she made in an entire day at her shop.

“Is there a good restaurant nearby?” Jiang Butong realized he was actually hungry.

“I know a roast goose place—let’s try it.” Wang Yun went to fetch her bicycle.

“Take me with you,” Jiang Butong said, taking the bicycle from her.

“Free labor, I see,” he joked.

Wang Yun gave him a playful slap. “Shouldn’t a gentleman serve a lady?”

“Of course, of course.” Jiang Butong rode off with Wang Yun seated behind him, and she navigated.

After a ten-minute ride, they arrived at the roast goose restaurant. Knowing Jiang Butong had made money, Wang Yun didn’t hold back—she ordered half a roast goose, two cold dishes, two servings of rice rolls, and a bottle of beer.

They clinked glasses.

“So, what’s the occasion for this dinner?” Wang Yun asked, her cheeks growing rosy with the wine.

“I’ll need your help to order another batch of tapes,” Jiang Butong replied.

“No problem—that’s easy.” She agreed without hesitation. Even if he hadn’t come to her, she would have restocked.

“How did you know these songs would sell so well?” Wang Yun was curious.

He couldn’t exactly tell her he’d been reborn.

Jiang Butong smiled mysteriously. “A friend of mine is at university in Hong Kong—he wrote to me about it.”

So that’s how he knew, Wang Yun thought. No wonder he could pick out the popular songs from so many choices.

In fact, Wang Yun had considered cutting Jiang Butong out and selling tapes on her own. But on second thought, she realized she couldn’t tell which albums would sell and which wouldn’t—she’d end up with unsold stock.

“Thinking of ordering tapes yourself?” Jiang Butong seemed to read her mind.

“Not at all,” Wang Yun said, taking another sip to hide her thoughts.

Jiang Butong understood. After all, who wouldn’t want a lucrative opportunity?

“When it comes to Hong Kong, I guarantee you don’t know as much as I do,” he said. If not for discretion, he might have told her exactly when Hong Kong would return to the fold.

Wang Yun fell silent, her alluring eyes fixed on him.

“Every day, countless albums are released there. If you don’t know the market, can you really tell which albums will sell? If you order blindly and can’t move the stock, you’ll just be tying up your capital.”

Jiang Butong began to lay out the pros and cons.

“So you want my help just for the albums?” Wang Yun was shrewd; she saw the sense in his words.

“Last time, I was willing to risk two hundred yuan to show my sincerity. I think we should deepen our partnership,” Jiang Butong said.

“How do you want to collaborate?” Wang Yun was curious about his intentions.

“I’ll pick the songs, you handle the procurement. We split the costs, and share the profits equally. And I won’t restrict you from selling them to others.”

Wang Yun pondered, weighing the pros and cons. Jiang Butong didn’t press her, pouring himself another glass.

After a moment, Wang Yun said, “Your idea’s good, but I want sixty percent of the profits—you get forty. I have to cover rent, after all.”

“But without me, you’d still be paying rent, unless you quit this business,” Jiang Butong countered.

“And without me, you have no supply chain,” Wang Yun retorted.

Jiang Butong just laughed. Did she really think he was a child?

“I don’t believe you’re the only channel from Pengcheng to Hong Kong. If we can’t make a deal, I’ll find someone else. I’m sure there are plenty who’d be happy to partner with me.”

Seeing his resolute gaze, Wang Yun hesitated. She’d thought he was just a youngster, but his composure and experience far exceeded his age.

“All right, we’ll split the profits fifty-fifty,” Wang Yun finally agreed.

With the deal struck, it was a win-win for both.

“To our partnership?” Jiang Butong raised his glass.

“Who would have thought, for someone so young, you’re quite the negotiator,” Wang Yun said, clinking her glass with his.

“Haven’t you ever heard the saying?”