The morning sun bathed the town in golden light, casting long shadows over the bustling streets. Chunhe guided his bull cart along the winding dirt road, the scent of fresh vegetables mixing with the crisp air. Beside him sat Hong Xian, the village chief, stroking his beard with a satisfied grin.
Chunhe shot him a look. "Old man, I let you sample a few, not feast like a starving wolf."
Hong Xian smirked, patting his stomach. "You should be thanking me! How else would you know if your vegetables are worth selling?"
Chunhe sighed. "Worth selling? More like worth stealing. You've already eaten a quarter of the stock."
As they neared the town's heart, Chunhe spoke up. "Now, about the price. I think two silver coins per piece."
Hong Xian frowned. "Two silver coins? That's steep! You'll scare off customers."
"We need to price it right," Chunhe explained. "Too cheap, and people will hoard. Worse, merchants will start sniffing around, wondering why our vegetables are special. But if it's priced just high enough, people will still buy—just not in bulk. It keeps demand steady and avoids suspicion."
Hong Xian stroked his beard, considering. Chunhe leaned back with a knowing smirk.
"Besides," he added, "once they taste it, they'll know it's worth every coin."
By the time they reached the marketplace, the town was fully alive. Vendors called out their wares, the scent of sizzling skewers filled the air, and the chatter of merchants bartering mixed with the occasional laughter of children darting through the crowds. Underneath a grand archway, the marketplace stretched wide, lined with stalls stacked high with dried spices, silk, and fresh river fish.
Chunhe pulled his cart into an open space when an old merchant hobbled forward. "Boy, how much for the tomatoes?"
"Two silver coins each."
A ripple of laughter spread among the traders.
"Two silver per catty, you mean?"
"No."
"Two silver per piece."
The disbelief was instant. Some scoffed, others shook their heads, amused by what they assumed was foolish arrogance.
"Who'd pay that much? Do you take us for fools?"
Chunhe didn't argue. Instead, he picked up a plump, crimson tomato, sliced it open, and handed a piece to the closest skeptic.
"Judge it yourself."
The old merchant hesitated, then popped it into his mouth.
The moment the juice hit his tongue, his expression froze. The richness, the sweetness—it wasn't just a tomato. It was as if he'd been transported to a summer field, the taste washing over him like a cool breeze.
"This... this is no ordinary tomato!" he gasped. "This is nectar from heaven!"
A hush fell over the crowd. Then, one by one, people surged forward, eager to taste. Skepticism melted into amazement. Soon, hands reached for silver and copper alike, and before Chunhe had even settled into the marketplace, half his stock was gone.
Hong Xian patted his shoulder with an approving glance. "Looks like you were right."
As they moved deeper into town, the streets grew grander, paved with smooth stone and lined with shops bearing red lanterns. Aristocrats in silk robes strolled past, servants in tow, their eyes occasionally flickering toward the unusual crowd gathering in a place.
An elderly woman approached, her eyes full of worry. "Young man, do you have anything good? My grandson has been sick—he can't taste and refuses to eat..."
Chunhe picked up a cabbage, its leaves glistening faintly like jade. He tore off a small piece and handed it to her.
"Take a bite."
She hesitated, then took a cautious nibble. Almost immediately, her face softened in astonishment.
"This... this is incredible!"
She clutched his sleeve. "I'll take three cabbages, eggplants, two catties of tomatoes, bok choy, radishes, one catty of long beans, and two catties of chilies!"
That night, her grandson—who had barely eaten in days—finished an entire bowl of vegetables, his complexion improving instantly.
As she set down her chopsticks, a thought lingered. She had only bought a small amount... Where would she find this young seller again?
Meanwhile, Chunhe and Hong Xian rode off into the distance, their cart rolling steadily toward an inn.
In a quiet courtyard on the outskirts of town, a once-prosperous family sat down for their evening meal. The scent of freshly cooked vegetables filled the modest dining hall, an unfamiliar warmth in their struggling household.
A frail middle-aged man took a small bite of the stir-fried greens. He paused. His weary eyes widened slightly, as if tasting something after a long time. Across from him, his younger sister exchanged a glance with their aging mother. Even their usually silent steward lifted his head in quiet astonishment.
"This flavor..."
"Where did these vegetables come from?"
"The market," his sister replied. "A young seller with a bull cart. His vegetables cost thrice as much, yet people rushed to buy them."
Silence settled over the table.
The mother set down her chopsticks and sighed. "Perhaps... it's time we make a move."
The oil lamp flickered, casting shadows against the walls.
Somewhere in the heart of Donghai Town, an ordinary vegetable seller had caught the attention of those who mattered most.