Chapter 29: The Large Cassette Order

Chen Pan’er had previously learned a bit about cassette tapes, but when she heard they had made over seventeen hundred yuan, her delicate face was filled with astonishment. The profit margin was incredible—far better than when she sold earrings and accessories.

Jiang Butong did the math: if they sold the remaining two hundred tapes at the conservative price of five yuan each, that would be over a thousand more. Adding the previous seventeen hundred, their total revenue would reach twenty-seven hundred yuan. With a cost of just one thousand, making twenty-seven hundred in just a few days—in these times, such a profit was nothing short of astonishing.

“Sister Wang, the order for two thousand yuan worth of tapes we placed last time should be arriving soon, right?” Jiang Butong asked.

“It’s almost here; we should be able to pick it up by tomorrow afternoon,” Wang Yun replied, now with complete faith in Jiang Butong’s judgment. Thinking back to when she first met him, she felt so fortunate to have chosen to trust him—otherwise, how much money would she have missed out on?

“Also, could you give my friend fifty tapes? She wants to set up a stall and try selling them,” Jiang Butong requested on behalf of Chen Pan’er, who had brought it up the night before.

“Of course. And the price…how much should I charge?” Wang Yun hesitated. After all, she and Jiang Butong had sourced these tapes together. If she charged too much, it would be unfair to Chen Pan’er, his friend; too little, and there would be no profit at all.

“Five yuan per tape. Just put it on my account,” Jiang Butong said.

Wang Yun glanced at him. Since he agreed, she didn’t protest further. She packed fifty tapes for Chen Pan’er and handed her Jiang Butong’s tape recorder as well.

“I’ll head over now and come back in a bit,” Jiang Butong said, taking the tapes while Chen Pan’er helped with the tape recorder.

“I’ll pay you back for these,” Chen Pan’er promised.

Jiang Butong looked at her and chuckled. “With what?”

She blinked in surprise. “With money, of course.”

He shook his head. “I’ve been staying at your house all this time and you never asked for rent. If I charged you now, I’d be struck by lightning.”

Chen Pan’er let out a soft laugh and huffed, “At least you have some conscience left.”

“Today, just sell as much as you can—everything you make is yours,” Jiang Butong said.

“Really?” Her eyes sparkled with greed.

“Really, but remember to wash my clothes when we get home,” he bargained.

“In your dreams!” she replied with playful indignation, striding ahead.

Jiang Butong watched her slender waist, thinking to himself, Little minx, if I don’t pin you to the bed, I’ll never get you to do my laundry.

When they reached the market, Jiang Butong helped Chen Pan’er set up her stall. He explained which songs were popular, how much to charge, and shared some sales techniques. Chen Pan’er nodded frequently; she had a keen sense for business—otherwise, she wouldn’t have chosen to set up a stall herself. Her only shortcoming was her limited knowledge about tapes.

In this era, tapes sold well but the market was like a pyramid: only a few sold in large numbers, while most had poor sales. Success depended heavily on a merchant’s ability to pick the right albums—this was why Wang Yun’s tape business had always been lukewarm. Jiang Butong, knowing which songs were hits and had high replay value, brought new opportunities for Wang Yun. He predicted that soon, the entire wholesale market would be flooded with Wong Ka Kui’s songs. For now, while the other merchants were short on stock, they could enjoy brisk sales.

Chen Pan’er inserted a tape into the recorder and started playing music. The unique rock rhythms immediately drew her in. Seeing she was doing fine, Jiang Butong headed back to Wang Yun’s shop.

A middle-aged man was there, bargaining over tape prices with Wang Yun.

“Boss lady, give me a better price. I’m taking these up north to sell, and I really like these songs,” he pleaded, his northern accent thick, his head balding, a bit overweight, and dressed in an old-fashioned suit.

But Wang Yun was in a strong position now. Thanks to Jiang Butong’s tape selections, her business was thriving; there was no need to worry about sales.

“Alright, how about I add fifty cents and pay you three fifty per tape for the lot?” the man tried again, clearly fond of the music.

Wang Yun was about to refuse when she spotted Jiang Butong returning. He always had ideas—best to let him handle this.

“Xiao Jiang, what do you think? Is three fifty per tape acceptable?” she asked by way of introduction.

The man’s name was Cheng Dafu, a business owner from the capital, in town to buy popular tapes to resell up north. Cheng Dafu eyed Jiang Butong—so young. Was the boss lady just humoring him?

Wang Yun noticed Cheng Dafu’s skepticism and explained, “Don’t underestimate him—he picked out all the tapes in my shop, and they sold out instantly.”

“Oh?” Cheng Dafu raised his brows, taking him more seriously.

“You selected these?” he asked Jiang Butong.

“Yes, I did,” Jiang Butong replied.

“How did you know these songs would be popular?” Cheng Dafu pressed.

“I have a classmate studying in Hong Kong who played them for me. I shared them with other students, gauged their replay rate and how much people sang along, then used that data to pick the tapes,” Jiang Butong answered with professional-sounding jargon, which gave Cheng Dafu pause.

So it was calculated based on audience feedback!

“The boss lady said you can make decisions. Is that true?” Cheng Dafu continued.

Jiang Butong glanced at Wang Yun, who nodded slightly. “Yes, I can. What price are you looking for?”

“One hundred tapes at three fifty each.”

“That’s not enough volume for us to make a profit at that price,” Jiang Butong replied, shaking his head.

“But I’m not sure I can sell them all,” Cheng Dafu protested.

Jiang Butong smiled. “Come with me, then.”

“Where to?”

“My friend just took fifty tapes to sell at a nearby stall. Let’s see how she’s doing.”

Practice is the only test of truth.

Cheng Dafu, skeptical but curious, followed Jiang Butong to Chen Pan’er’s stall. By now, it was almost time for the nearby factories to let out for the day. Jiang Butong pointed out her stall to Cheng Dafu, who approached on his own.

Chen Pan’er’s cheeks were flushed—partly from excitement, partly from the heat. She hadn’t expected the tapes to sell so well; she’d already sold seven or eight in just a short while, and at ten yuan apiece, no less.

The tape recorder played “Boundless Oceans, Vast Skies” as a crowd of a dozen people gathered to listen. Squeezing through, Cheng Dafu saw that her tapes were exactly the same as those in Wang Yun’s shop. He stayed for half an hour, watching as people bought tapes for ten yuan each, deeply impressed.

Now he understood why these tapes sold for twice as much as domestic ones—they featured songs unavailable in the mainland market.

Rarity makes things precious.

He slipped away quietly and found Jiang Butong.

“Well, Mr. Cheng?” Jiang Butong asked.

“They really do sell well,” Cheng Dafu had to admit.

Jiang Butong smiled. “And this is just the beginning. Communication isn’t very advanced yet, so news spreads slowly. Shenzhen is close to Hong Kong, which is why there’s such a market for these tapes—and they’re all sourced directly from the first channel.”

Cheng Dafu fell silent, thinking. He realized that up north, he’d never even heard these songs—the tapes sold there were all outdated domestic hits from years ago.

“We just put in a two-thousand-yuan tape order a few days ago—do you know why?” Jiang Butong teased.

“Why?” Cheng Dafu asked, almost automatically.

“Because the mainland is vast, with people from all over coming to Shenzhen to buy goods. That two-thousand order will be gone in three to five days, at most,” Jiang Butong explained. At this time, as China entered a period of rapid economic growth, it was a seller’s market—if you had goods, you never had to worry about them not selling.

For in the days when ration tickets were still issued, some things were always in short supply.