The bandits overheard him, but initially didn't take it seriously.
He's just an eight-year-old child. How smart can he be?
Only a few boys wanted to learn to read with him to coax him.
But as they listened, people around them couldn't help but gather around.
Some people couldn't help but reach out and touch Dazhuang's head: How did this kid grow up like this?
Da Zhuang, whose head was patted on the back: "......"
He couldn't help but turn around and glare at the burly men behind him, who all stared back at him with innocent faces.
Dazhuang turned his head expressionlessly and continued, "Those who haven't fled the famine in the town at the foot of the mountain are mostly merchants or ordinary people with a lot of goods. These people don't use expensive charcoal, so they have to move to other towns or even the county seat..."
When Grandpa Xu had some free time, he came over to listen to the commotion and overheard this conversation.
Old Master Xu nodded to himself. He had been selling charcoal for more than just a year or two and had experienced all sorts of situations.
In previous years, by mid-November, when it was freezing cold, charcoal would have been selling briskly. But this year, the weather is unusually hot, and the charcoal business is much worse.
Some people might have the foresight to stock up on charcoal in advance, but fearing that the heat would continue, they would never stock up on expensive charcoal.
As he listened to Dazhuang's gentle voice, a hint of nostalgia appeared in Old Master Xu's eyes.
Xiao Lin was just as smart when she was eight years old. She was quick-witted and could apply what she had read or heard to new situations. Now... sigh.
Among the hundreds of brothers in the mountain stronghold, there was a group specifically responsible for making charcoal with Old Master Xu, and naturally there were also those specifically responsible for selling charcoal.
When the bald man heard that Zhiwen and the other three wanted to go down the mountain to sell charcoal for a day, he couldn't help but frown: "Just focus on learning how to make charcoal from the old man, don't worry about other things."
In the past, Zhiwen would never have refuted Elder Nian's words, but... "Elder Nian, I think Brother Dazhuang is right. You can't just sit around waiting for people to buy charcoal; you have to come up with some creative ideas."
Da Zhuang told them not to call him "Master," feeling it made him sound too old.
The bald man laughed angrily: "What kind of tricks can you pull off selling charcoal? Aren't you just making a fool of yourself?"
Before he could finish speaking, a kick came from the side, knocking the bald man to the ground.
Zhiwen and the other three immediately looked away, pretending they hadn't seen anything.
“What do you mean by nonsense? My Dazhuang makes a lot of sense. Besides, we need to hurry up and open up the market, otherwise it will be even harder to sell if we wait any longer.”
Ye Wenxue unconditionally supports her eldest son.
Besides, what Dazhuang said makes a lot of sense, so why not give it a try?
Baldy stood up, rubbing his sore butt, and gave the innocent-looking Dazhuang a resentful look: "Fine, fine, you can do as he says. If it doesn't work, we'll just quietly stock up on more charcoal and sell it when it snows."
The four men nodded in unison.
The bamboo house was too far from the town at the foot of the mountain, so the bandits followed Ye Wenxue's advice and rented a house in the town to store charcoal and provide a place for the brothers in charge of sales to rest.
Before dawn, Zhiwen and his men sneaked into the house, woke up the dozen or so bandit brothers who were still sleeping, and together they carried out Dazhuang's plan.
Zhiwen and his three companions were quite eloquent, and with the bald man's message, the brothers in the house, though still somewhat skeptical, had no choice but to agree.
After some discussion, Zhiwen and Zhiwu each led a team of brothers to act separately.
Zhiwu and Zhiwang each guarded the entrance to the town. When a charcoal seller came, they would buy it from him by lowering the price by one coin, claiming that they had sold out all the charcoal. They quickly collected several hundred catties of charcoal.
Then, carrying the charcoal he had bought and the charcoal he had made himself for eight copper coins a pound, he went to the specialized market and took out the sign that Da Zhuang had written yesterday:
"Charcoal is five coins a pound. Buy four pounds and get half a pound of good charcoal free. Buy ten pounds and get one and a half pounds free!"
Since few people in the town could read, the bandits took turns shouting: "Buy four catties and get half a catty free! Top-quality charcoal! Come and take a look!"
With the recent large temperature difference between day and night, many knowledgeable people have vaguely anticipated the upcoming drop in temperature and have come to stock up on charcoal in advance.
But on this day, Zhiwu and his men guarded the entrance to the town and collected a batch of charcoal in advance. There were few charcoal sellers in the market, and the people immediately noticed the bandits who occupied a large area.
Hearing the loud shouts, someone mustered up the courage to run up and ask, "Buy four pounds and get half a pound free? Really?"
Zhiwang smiled and picked up a piece of good charcoal to show the visitor:
"Of course it's true. Look, the charcoal they're giving away is of high quality and produces little smoke. Normally it would sell for eight copper coins a pound. Now, if you buy four pounds of charcoal for five copper coins a pound, you'll get half a pound of good charcoal for free. It's a great deal."
"It's free for three days! After that, it won't be free anymore, and you'll have to pay the original price!"
The customer's eyes lit up; he figured he might as well take advantage of the deal: "I want thirty pounds!"
"Ten pounds, I'll buy ten pounds!"
"Fifty pounds, can you help me deliver it to my home?"
......
The bandits quickly opened for business.
Some people also tried to haggle and get a better deal: "I'll buy three jin, and I won't take the good charcoal. Can you give me a discount of three copper coins per jin? I've calculated it, and you won't lose out..."
Zhiwang smiled and took a step back. Behind him, a muscular bandit stepped forward, his scarred face hinting at his banditry: "Sister-in-law, what did you say?"
"No...it's nothing."
The auntie chuckled and left, spitting angrily at him for not giving her face. Looking back at the lively scene, she rolled her eyes and squeezed back into the crowd.
The few other charcoal sellers in the market were getting little business and were seething with resentment.
But watching the burly men busy weighing charcoal, he didn't dare to say a word, only cursing his bad luck in his heart, before picking up his basket and planning to come back in a few days.
Zhiwu forced a stiff smile and stepped forward to stop them: "Gentlemen, four coins a pound, all included, are you selling?"
Hearing this from afar, Zhiwang slapped his forehead: He was clearly being told to speak politely and negotiate with people, but this kid was acting like a ruthless bandit who was robbing people on the street.
We need to tell him to stay away from the rough and uncouth men in the mountain stronghold!
The charcoal sellers looked at each other in bewilderment.
"Sell!"
Compared to selling by the pound or two, and not even knowing how much you'll actually sell, buying everything for four coins is obviously more convenient—you can use the extra time to go back and burn more charcoal!
Some couldn't help but whisper, "Do you still want it tomorrow? I'll get the whole village to sell you the charcoal!"
Zhiwu said in a serious tone, "We only need it in the next couple of days. We can make our own charcoal in a few days."
Charcoal seller: "......"
Damn it, they still want to steal business.
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