After parking the truck,
Jerry left his dad to watch over the wild greens
and went to pay ten yuan to rent a stall.
He carefully set out baskets of fresh-picked wild greens, ready for business.
Before setting up, he'd done a little price-checking around the market.
Just as he'd expected—
wild greens were selling for insane prices.
Top-tier stuff like shepherd's purse was going for two yuan per jin.
Mountain roots? Five yuan per jin.
Even lesser-known varieties like rock creeper were three yuan per jin.
And Jerry's cost?
Ten cents per jin.
For everything.
Talk about criminal-level profit margins—30 to 50 times markup!
He had barely finished setting up when a chubby man with a bulging money belt waddled over.
Squatting down, the fat man poked at the greens.
"Hey kid, how much wild greens you got?"
Jerry gave him a lazy glance.
He instantly pegged the guy—
one of those wandering middlemen who moved from province to province,
sniffing for fresh goods to flip for profit.
Judging by his bloated wallet,
the guy had money to burn.
Probably thought he could scam some naive college kid.
Jerry yawned.
"Not much.
Just twenty thousand jin."
The fat man's eyes widened in shock.
He hadn't expected this plain-looking student to have that much stock.
Maybe this kid came from a mountain stronghold family or something?
Trying to stay cool,
the fat man sneered:
"Kid, seriously?
You're treating this pig fodder like treasure?
Look at these prices you posted—five yuan for mountain roots?
Three yuan for rock creeper?
Two yuan for shepherd's purse?
You're ripping people off!"
Jerry inwardly rolled his eyes.
Trying to hustle me?
Amateur.
He said lazily:
"Buddy, over in the coastal provinces, shepherd's purse is already selling at ten yuan a jin.
My prices are a bargain.
If you want cheaper, feel free to look elsewhere.
Prices here are firm—not dropping a single cent."
Seeing Jerry's calm, unmoved attitude,
the fat man realized—
this wasn't some clueless newbie.
This was a shark.
Thinking fast, the fat man shifted tactics.
"Alright, how about this," he said.
"You worked hard bringing all this into town, right?
Out of respect, I'll take all your greens at half price.
Two-fifty for mountain roots, one-fifty for rock creeper, and one yuan for shepherd's purse.
Cash on the spot!"
To show he meant business,
the fat man whipped out a fat wad of cash from his belt—at least twenty grand.
He smirked, sure that the young man would jump at the sight of so much money.
But Jerry?
Jerry just gave him a look of pure disdain.
"That little trick might work on others,
but not me,"
he said coolly.
"How many stalls around here are selling wild greens?
And how many have twenty thousand jin ready to go?"
"Supply's low. Demand's sky-high.
I'm not desperate."
"Don't like my prices?
Get out of the way.
You're blocking real customers."
The fat man froze.
He'd never been brushed off like this before—
especially by a student.
Was this kid even human?
Why's he sharper than me, an old street fox?!
As they argued,
more and more merchants gathered around.
"How much for the mountain roots?"
"Got a lot of volume? I'll buy everything if the price's right!"
"Hey bro, where are you sourcing these greens?
Ever thought about a long-term partnership?"
Some were already punching numbers into calculators,
others asking questions nonstop.
Seeing the competition heat up,
the fat man panicked.
Jerry was right—
with wild greens this scarce and demand this high,
if he hesitated, he'd lose out big time.
Thinking quickly, the fat man grabbed Jerry and pulled him aside.
"Heh heh, little brother...
Come on, give me some face.
I was the first one here!
Let's work together, yeah?"
Jerry looked him over coldly.
Now you know how to beg?
Should've thought of that earlier, buddy.
"You done bargaining?"
Jerry asked, arms crossed.
"Done!
No more haggling, no more tricks!"
The fat man hurriedly said.
"But one thing—"
he lowered his voice—
"Besides today's batch...
can you keep supplying me in the future?"
Jerry nodded calmly.
"Don't worry.
Twenty thousand jin per day is no problem."
As long as the villagers didn't find out how valuable wild greens really were,
Jerry could basically control the entire supply chain.
In fact, he'd already made up his mind—
dominate the whole wild greens market across the country,
turn it into his family's first real empire.
By the time the villagers realized what was happening,
he would already own the distribution network.
They'll have greens...
but no buyers.
A classic checkmate.
Jerry was willing to work with the fat man for now because—
this guy clearly had the best resources and the widest sales channels in the market.
He could be useful.
And once Jerry consolidated the market later,
this fat guy could be "convinced" to join the family business permanently.
Better to build allies early.
Hearing Jerry's guarantee,
the fat man—whose name turned out to be Fengner—
grinned ear to ear.
"Little brother, you picked the right partner!
In this whole market, I'm number one—no one dares claim second!
You and me together?
Big money's just the beginning!"
This kid was a gold mine!
Forget short-term gains—
Fengner had a feeling they were about to strike it rich.
He mentally slapped a giant "VIP" tag on Jerry's name.
Once they finalized the deal,
Jerry packed up his stall.
The other merchants, seeing the situation, could only shake their heads and leave,
grumbling about their lost chance.
Back at the truck,
Jerry's dad stubbed out his pipe and stood up.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
Jerry grinned.
"All set, Dad."
His dad, usually a man of few words, asked,
"How much?"
Jerry made a gesture: seven.
"Seven hundred?"
Dad guessed, a little nervous.
Jerry shook his head, smiling wider.
"Seven thousand?"
Dad asked, breathing easier.
Jerry shook his head again, chuckling.
Then he dropped the bomb:
"Not seven hundred.
Not seven thousand.
Seventy thousand."
Dad: "..."
For the first time in forever,
Jerry's father showed an extreme expression—
pure, absolute shock.
Two thousand in costs, three hundred for gas...
and you flipped it into seventy thousand?!
Thirty-plus times return on investment?
Even robbing a bank wasn't this profitable!
He felt dizzy,
but deep down, he never once doubted his son.
Just like Jerry's mom—
he had always trusted Jerry, no matter what.