Wang Shitou proudly joined the group of children, carrying his own Bamboo Tube Cannon.
There were many children in the village, and not everyone had managed to buy a Bamboo Tube Cannon. As soon as Wang Shitou arrived, several kids noticed the toy in his hand and reacted differently.
“Shitou, you have a Bamboo Tube Cannon too! What did you trade for it?”
Wang Shitou chuckled. “My mother made tofu, and I traded it with Sister Ning.”
“Your mother is so nice. I’ve been asking my dad for a long time, but he still won’t buy me one…”
“Yesterday, Hutou begged his parents for a Bamboo Tube Cannon at home, but they wouldn’t buy it for him. He even got a beating, so he didn’t come out today…”
“No way, I’m going to make my parents buy me one today.”
After making their “vows,” the little friends quickly changed the subject and started discussing where to go play.
They were all just a few years old, at that age where they were a nuisance to everyone and even dogs, running all over the village. On the way, they spotted a few ducks swimming and immediately started shouting and chasing after them with their Bamboo Tube Cannons.
The ducks scattered in all directions.
The Bamboo Tube Cannons Ji Ning sold didn’t come with the small berries inside. The children had to find their own ammunition. The more diligent ones went up the mountain to pick small berries, while the lazier ones who still wanted to play simply picked up small stones from the ground and stuffed them inside.
The children who had just bought theirs were still excited about their new toys and were reluctant to lend them to others. Earlier, when only Feng-ge’er had one, everyone else had to wait their turn and could only line up obediently. But now it was different—five or six children had toys, and each child had their own temperament and personality.
Wang Shitou was willing to share, but he didn’t like others stuffing stones into his Bamboo Tube Cannon, afraid it might break the toy. After all, it was something his mother had worked hard to make tofu for. If it broke, he’d be heartbroken.
Some of the others were unwilling to share because they hadn’t had enough playtime themselves, while others had their own preferences, only willing to lend to close friends. Everyone wanted to play, and with so many children, there were still some who didn’t get a turn.
Owning their own Bamboo Tube Cannon became an urgent matter.
…
Ji Ning was approached by a few more children, around the same age as Feng-ge’er, some with tears still on their faces.
Feng-ge’er whispered to Ji Ning, “Two of them have families who don’t want to buy them Bamboo Tube Cannons.”
He pointed to one child who was crying particularly hard. “That’s Hutou. He even got beaten when he went home. His dad hits really hard, and Hutou always cries the loudest.”
There were also a few who had pestered their families for a long time and finally managed to get permission. They came with money or items to buy Bamboo Tube Cannons.
Ji Ning inspected everything. In the morning, she had politely declined dried vegetables, and this time, no one brought any. Four children came with money to buy Bamboo Tube Cannons, while more came with items to trade. In the end, she tallied it up: she had sold fourteen Bamboo Tube Cannons in total, earning twelve Wen, two pieces of tofu, five eggs, one duck egg, and a nest of small bird eggs.
The two tearful children hadn’t brought anything—their families wouldn’t allow it.
Hutou cried so hard he started hiccupping. “Sis… Sister Ning, can you give me a Bamboo Tube Cannon? I promise, I’ll bring something to trade tomorrow. I’ll go up the mountain to pick mushrooms…”
He looked truly pitiful.
But Ji Ning hardened her heart and shook her head. “Then I’ll make you a new Bamboo Tube Cannon when you bring something tomorrow.”
Lan-jie, who had been playing nearby, was drawn by the crying. Seeing her sister refuse, she leaned close to Mrs. Wang and asked softly, “Mother, he’s crying so pitifully. Why won’t Elder Sister trade with him?”
Mrs. Wang hugged her and patted her head. “Your elder sister has a mind of her own. She probably learned from your father—no credit for acquaintances. Since we all live in the same village, it would be hard to collect debts later.”
With a peddler in the family, Mrs. Wang had naturally picked up some business sense from listening to Ji Song’s stories. One rule was never to extend credit to friends or relatives.
In his first year as a peddler, Ji Song had been too soft-hearted, thinking that lending a few coins to fellow villagers wouldn’t matter. But by the end of the month, when he tallied the accounts, he found too many people owed him money, and he had almost failed to recover his capital.
The family had worried over this, discussing it several times. Eventually, Ji Song had to swallow his pride and go door-to-door to collect the debts, which took considerable effort.
Mrs. Wang figured her daughter must have remembered those lessons and now held firmly to the principle.
After selling fourteen Bamboo Tube Cannons and gently sending off the two tearful children, Ji Ning first checked the settled mud slurry. The water and sediment had separated, so she poured off the top layer of water and asked Mrs. Wang if there was any spare burlap cloth.
In the past, the family would never have given her burlap for such a purpose—their own clothes were made of burlap, patched and repatched. Using it to filter muddy water, even if it could be washed clean, would have seemed wasteful. But today’s lively scene had given them hope.
Bamboo, readily available on the mountain, had taken only a little time to craft into toys, yet it had earned twenty-eight Wen.
Twenty-eight Wen a day meant eight hundred Wen a month, and nearly seven or eight strings of cash a year! Moreover, this was ten-year-old Ning-jie earning it herself, without using any family resources.
Before Mrs. Wang could move, Grandpa Ji spoke up, “Find her a piece.”
This meant he did not oppose Ji Ning earning money through toys.
Mrs. Wang found a piece of coarse burlap for Ji Ning, who packed the wet mud into it, tied the bag tightly, and hung it up.
Muddy water dripped from the bottom of the bag into a basin. Mrs. Wang watched curiously, not understanding. “What are you doing?”
Ji Ning replied, “Making clay.”
Unlike modern times, where you could buy anything online with a click—ready-made clay in all colors and varieties—this was the Northern Song Dynasty. There was no express delivery; she had to figure things out herself.
While she couldn’t produce cleaner, more professional clay, a basic version was possible. She had searched the mountain for suitable soil and filtered two batches to obtain this small bag of clay.
Mrs. Wang was still puzzled. “What’s clay for? Aren’t you selling those Bamboo Tube Cannons?”
Ji Ning shook her head. “The Bamboo Tube Cannon is too simple. Anyone who buys one can figure out how to make it just by looking. It’s not a sustainable business.”
It was just two bamboo sections fitted together. Even children could figure it out after playing with it for a while, let alone adults.
The Bamboo Tube Cannon could only be sold once in their village. When Ji Song returned, they might sell it further afield using his peddler connections, but it would still be a one-time, easily imitated venture.
She simply used the Bamboo Tube Cannon to let the children in the village know that she had novel toys for sale. From there, all she needed to do was keep innovating and building a stable customer base.
After selling a few rounds, she could invent some other toys, expand her customer base to other areas, and ideally even sell in town.
Author’s Note:
Thank you, dear readers, for your collections.