Chapter Nineteen: Barbed Wire

"This cloth, was it made by the people of your village?"

As he felt the fabric, Lin San's eyes lit up at its delicate and smooth texture. Even though he wasn't particularly knowledgeable about textiles, he could clearly see that these fabrics were of excellent quality.

"Didn't we kill a bear a few days ago? I used the reward silver from the authorities to buy some spinning wheels. My wife happens to be skilled in weaving, so she led the villagers in spinning together," Qin Zhen explained. "Originally, we planned to find a time to take the cloth to the county office and sell it for some silver, just to make a living. But since you're here today, Uncle Lin, it's the perfect chance for you to take a look."

He probed, "What do you think of this material, Uncle Lin? Does it catch your eye?"

"Very good, very good!" Lin San was more than satisfied, pleasantly surprised to find such a treasure in this little fishing village. Finished cloth was naturally more valuable than hides. He wasn't an expert in the business, but he knew people who were—whether there was money to be made would be easy to find out.

"How much of this material do you have?" He estimated that Qin Zhen probably only had a dozen bolts or so on hand. If the price was reasonable, he could take it all.

"One hundred bolts," Qin Zhen replied, giving an answer Lin San hadn't anticipated.

"That much?" Lin San was taken aback.

"The villagers have nothing else to do, so they're at the spinning wheels every day! It's impossible to stop them, and before we knew it, we'd accumulated this much," Qin Zhen subtly steered the topic back. "Uncle Lin, we're all country folk here, inexperienced, and we don't know what this stuff is worth. Why don't you name a price, and if it's fair, we'll sell it all to you!"

"Fifteen copper coins per bolt, how about that?" Lin San offered a moderate price.

Perhaps sensing his offer was on the low side, he added, "To tell you the truth, I don't know the market either. How about this—I'll buy a batch first and take it to the city to sell. If it sells well, I'll come back for more. What do you think?"

"Fifteen? That's a bit low, isn't it?" Before Qin Zhen could reply, Chen Shu cut in. Qin Zhen might not understand, but Chen Shu did.

"When I was in the army, even a set of casual clothes cost at least twenty coins. One bolt of cloth can make three or four garments, at least! You see for yourself, our cloth is second to none in the market," Chen Shu said, pursing his lips. "Fifteen coins is too little!"

Lin San looked a bit embarrassed; he knew his offer was on the low side.

"But you can't say that," Lin San reasoned. "Transport costs money, having clothes made costs money—everything costs money. In the end, how much really ends up in my pocket? I've got so many brothers waiting for me to feed them!"

"Add a little more," Chen Shu said sternly. "If the cloth sells well, plenty of others will be coming to our village to buy. If you're stingy, it will be hard for us to work with you!"

Lin San realized the truth in his words. After some hesitation, he finally relented.

"Alright, for the sake of Brother Chen, I'll take a loss and add three more coins. Eighteen per bolt!"

That was his absolute limit—any more and he couldn't agree.

"How could we let Uncle Lin suffer a loss?" Qin Zhen replied. "We said fifteen coins, so fifteen it is! It's not easy for you to come all the way here through these mountains. The extra three coins can be for you and your men to have some tea on us."

Making a profit wasn't the most important thing; as long as they didn't lose money, it was fine. What Qin Zhen really wanted was to build a connection with Lin San and make the little fishing village's name known.

"How can that be?" The old village chief pulled Qin Zhen aside, chiding him with deep regret, "That's three coins per bolt! For a hundred bolts, that's three hundred coins! If your brother knew you were so wasteful, he'd come back from the grave just to scold you!"

Lin San came over as well. "Little Brother Qin, your words are enough. You treat me as one of your own, and I'll do the same. Eighteen coins it is—a deal's a deal." With that, he produced his money pouch. "Here's the payment. Count it yourself."

"Uncle Lin, fifteen coins. If the sales go well, we can raise the price," Qin Zhen said, returning part of the money. "You shouldn't have to bear all the risk. If it doesn't sell, who would you complain to?"

That was indeed one of Lin San's concerns. Seeing Qin Zhen so considerate, Lin San felt a surge of warmth and grew even more fond of him.

"Deal!" Lin San was a straightforward man. "We'll do as you say. I'll gladly call you my friend!"

Qin Zhen beamed and quickly waved to Li Han.

"Han, gather a few people to help move the goods!"

News that buyers had come for their cloth sent the whole village into a flurry of excitement. The women who'd been spinning and weaving were especially delighted, proud to see their hard work recognized. Some of the elder women bustled about, offering tea and bringing out their treasured dried fish to treat Lin San and his companions.

"People in the countryside really are simple and genuine," Lin San couldn't help but sigh.

Of course, the villagers were counting on this connection with Lin San to earn a living—how could they be anything but genuine?

"Brother Zhen, have some water."

A timid voice approached. Qin Zhen recognized the village chief's youngest daughter, the same girl who'd brought him flowers the other day. Fourteen or fifteen years old, she was like a tender flower bud, innocent and bashful.

This time, Qin Zhen learned her name: Liu Yan'er.

Sweating as he loaded the bolts onto the mule carts, Qin Zhen was parched. He gratefully accepted the cup of water, downing it in one gulp—it was refreshingly cool.

"Thank you."

Liu Yan'er blushed and scurried away. Watching her retreating figure, Qin Zhen suddenly regretted not having the flower she gave him before—he could have returned it to her now.

“By the way, Uncle Lin, do you help people buy things too?” Qin Zhen asked.

“That depends on what you want to buy. If it’s too heavy, it won’t work—getting things over these mountains is tough and dangerous,” Lin San replied as he counted the goods. “As you can see, we only have seven or eight mule carts; we can’t carry much.”

Qin Zhen thought for a moment. “Can you get iron wire?”

Lin San froze, put down his ledger, and stared at Qin Zhen. “What do you need that for?”

Anything involving iron was strictly forbidden; it was dangerous and could get you executed if you weren’t careful.

“For fishing!” Qin Zhen blurted. “The fish in the sea are fierce. The other day, I made a net from rattan, but the fish tore a huge hole in it and many escaped! I was thinking if we could reinforce it with iron wire, maybe it wouldn’t break.”

“It’s true!” Li Han chimed in. “You should’ve seen the scene—hundreds of fish still caught even after the net broke! If it hadn’t, we’d have caught even more!”

Seeing that Qin Zhen was sincere and only wanted to improve his fishing nets, Lin San fell silent. After a while, he shook his head. “That’s not easy to get, and it’s expensive. I can’t do it.”

Qin Zhen had only been trying his luck. “Then any other strong thread will do, as long as it’s tough and won’t break! If you come across anything suitable, please buy some for me.” As he spoke, he handed Lin San a money pouch containing ten silver taels.

“This is a deposit.”

Feeling the weight of the money, Lin San suppressed his shock and smiled meaningfully. With this much, he could get any thread Qin Zhen wanted—even iron wire.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll run off with your money?”

“Once we establish this route, the profits from selling cloth will far exceed this,” Qin Zhen replied, smiling with the open-hearted confidence of a young man.

Lin San paused, then felt a genuine sense of admiration for Qin Zhen.

He gave Qin Zhen’s shoulder a firm pat and said solemnly, “Don’t worry, leave it to me.”