Lu Minggui was startled to see Zhu Yufang too—just her bright red lips alone were enough to be memorable.
She hadn’t expected that the woman buying the daylilies and the woman with red lips knew each other!
But now that she was here, she wasn’t afraid. She braced herself, nodded, and placed the basket of daylilies on the stall.
Only then did she notice a large bag of white sugar next to the bamboo basket—surely from the young man earlier.
Her urgency to repay him grew. White sugar was rare and expensive—one jin cost fifty wen, even pricier than meat. And he had given her so much at once. What a good person he was.
As she was lost in thought, Dong Wanhui exclaimed, “You two know each other?”
Zhu Yufang recounted what had happened earlier, laughing heartily: “This old lady got lost, looking for a door in the wall!”
Before Lu Minggui could feel embarrassed, Zhu Yufang praised her basket: “Wow, these daylilies are nice—fresh as if just picked.”
“How much does the lady want per jin?”
Dong Wanhui quickly said, “Thirty yuan per jin.”
Hearing this, Zhu Yufang did a quick mental calculation and nodded. “Thirty yuan? Not bad. Wild vegetables are more expensive this year. Chinese toon sprouts are fifty per jin, wild shepherd’s purse at least fifteen, purslane just came out at twenty-five. I only bought ten jin, and it sold out immediately.”
Zhu Yufang, talkative and straightforward, opened up. “Old lady,” she asked Lu Minggui, “where did you get these daylilies?”
Lu Minggui replied honestly, “I grew them myself.”
Zhu Yufang didn’t doubt her—after all, it was a small basket. Maybe she had some land outside the city.
She placed the basket on the electronic scale, tapped the buttons, and said, “Three jin six liang. That’s net weight, excluding the basket.”
Lu Minggui stared at the electronic scale in amazement. Just a few beeps, and it showed the weight? No weights needed?
She thought—her basket barely seemed to have more than one jin. “Is it really three jin?”
Zhu Yufang frowned. “Old lady, we’re not cheating. The market management calibrates these monthly; see the certification sticker? And this isn’t even my personal scale—it’s the market’s standard fair scale!”
Lu Minggui quickly explained, “No, no, I just thought my daylilies weren’t this heavy…”
“See? 1,800 grams, right?”
“Grams?” Lu Minggui had no idea.
Zhu Yufang smiled, realizing the old lady likely only knew the old-fashioned steelyard scale. “1,800 grams is three jin six liang. One jin is 500 grams, 500 grams is ten liang. Can’t you understand that?”
“Old lady, you can’t be out of touch with society! Now it’s all kilograms, not your rural steelyard!”
Though scolded, Lu Minggui didn’t feel upset. Her mind quickly processed: here, one jin isn’t sixteen liang—it’s ten liang. So her basket really had over three jin of daylilies!
Dong Wanhui reassured her, “Old lady, the scale is accurate.”
“Since it’s over three jin, I’ll pay you one hundred yuan. How does that sound?”
Lu Minggui had no concept of one hundred yuan, but compared to two wen, it sounded enormous. She quickly nodded, “Ah, okay, that’s fine!”
“Then I’ll transfer the money to you…”
Dong Wanhui hesitated, glancing at Lu Minggui’s worn clothes. “Do you have a phone?”
“Hand… hand chicken? What hand chicken?” Lu Minggui looked confused—she hadn’t seen anyone with a chicken.
Dong Wanhui realized she didn’t even know what a phone was.
She hesitated: “Without a phone, I can’t pay you digitally. And I didn’t bring cash either…”
But she didn’t want to miss out on these precious daylilies.
Zhu Yufang smiled: “No problem. You transfer the money to me, I’ll give the cash to the old lady. I just received a few hundred yuan this morning anyway.”
Dong Wanhui nodded enthusiastically. “Right, right, that’s why people in business are quick thinkers. I sit at home, my brain barely moves.”
Zhu Yufang joked, “I just want a good husband and a peaceful life—no luck for me, I guess!”
Having chatted a few times, Dong Wanhui already knew Zhu Yufang’s family background—she was a full-time housewife, her husband an engineer with a high salary.
After receiving Dong Wanhui’s transfer, Zhu Yufang handed Lu Minggui a red note.
“One hundred yuan, old lady.”
“And here’s your bamboo basket too.”
She poured the golden daylilies into a transparent bag for Dong Wanhui and returned the basket to Lu Minggui, including the buns and white sugar.
Lu Minggui touched the paper-like note, smooth and printed with a portrait, with a squiggly pattern and “one hundred yuan” in the center.
She recognized two characters: “one hundred.” Could this really be one hundred yuan? This was what people used to buy things?
Thinking of all the fruits, vegetables, grains, and oils she had seen on her way, Lu Minggui’s heart stirred.
But then she thought—she had to repay the young man first!
Dong Wanhui, happily carrying the daylilies, said, “Ah, my husband will be so pleased! He said fresh daylilies should first be blanched, then tossed with salt, vinegar, and chili oil—it tastes incredibly fresh.”
“I’ll go now. Zhu Dajie, remember to save some fresh stuff for me next time.”
“And thank you again, old lady!”
She turned on her small heels and walked off.