A Peach Blossom Haven

Shi Gui went home and discussed it with his wife for half the night, then decided to bring his brother-in-law, Liang Wei, into the shop to help.

Like most young people in rural towns at the time, Shi Gui's brother-in-law had been unemployed for several years.

Although Xibao Town had quite a few state-owned enterprises, most fell under city or county jurisdiction. They had built their factories here only for geographical reasons. In a period when unemployment was soaring nationwide, they struggled to take in even all their own workers' children, let alone local young people.

The Xibao Cannery, for instance, might reserve a position for Yang Rui, but it would never recruit openly.

Shi Gui's little restaurant was neither particularly good nor particularly bad, but getting plenty of rich food to eat was easy enough. When they mentioned the idea to Liang Wei, he readily agreed.

The next day, Shi Gui handed the cooking over to his wife and left the odd jobs and deliveries to Liang Wei. He rode his bicycle to a repair shop, had a large bamboo basket fitted over the rear wheel, then coated it with tung oil and black paint. With that, he had a "truck."

He reckoned that since Yang Rui wanted to sell test papers, he would need to average at least fifty sets a day to make it worthwhile. If they all sold smoothly, his twenty-percent cut might well match the earnings of a dual-income household.

Considering that the more he sold, the more he earned, Shi Gui remained fully confident. After all, a young man who could earn over 2,000 yuan in fees just by publishing articles could hardly be working himself to death for a few yuan.

Only when he reached the school did Shi Gui realize he had oversimplified things.

Yang Rui had indeed prepared more than fifty sets of papers. Looking at that thick stack, then at the bamboo basket he had made...

"What if they won't fit?" Shi Gui felt overwhelmed.

"I'll have someone go to the bus station with you. Head straight to the county seat, then hire a tricycle when you get there." Yang Rui wheeled a bicycle out from behind the gatehouse, its rear rack also piled high with bundled test papers.

"This many!" Shi Gui did not need to count to see that there were far more than the fifty sets he had imagined.

Yang Rui nodded slightly, pulled out one set, and handed it to Shi Gui. "Each set contains twelve test papers and one answer sheet. They sell for twenty fen a set, and your commission is calculated on that price. There are 150 sets here altogether. Bring me back twenty-four yuan, and the remaining six yuan is your commission."

He was actually treating Shi Gui as a distributor now. Yang Rui was not particularly concerned about whether he sold more or fewer sets.

Shi Gui turned the papers over and examined them.

Each set came in a stiff cardboard box. Not only did it look attractive, it also bore the words "Rui Study Secret Compendium," which had considerable appeal.

Still, giving away a cardboard box struck Shi Gui as wasteful. "The papers I've seen sold in the county are just stapled together..."

"If everything were the same, could we sell our mimeographed papers for twenty fen?" Yang Rui had settled on twenty fen only after examining other study aids. This price was a few fen cheaper than even the relatively inexpensive workbooks, and roughly the same as magazines such as Youth Literature and Art. Since the literary youth of the eighties could afford magazines costing several dozen fen, and Harvest at one yuan, spending twenty fen on a set of test papers was not too difficult either.

On the other hand, the Rui Study Secret Compendium could not be sold too cheaply. Local purchasing power was limited, and students who could afford to work through mountains of practice questions were especially scarce. A relatively high profit margin was the foundation for making money. Besides, although paper and ink were available, supplies would certainly fall short if he tried to dump large quantities at low prices.

In other words, the seller's market of the eighties was naturally an era for pursuing high profits.

Shi Gui did not know how much a set cost to produce, but he was satisfied with the prospect of earning six yuan. After thinking it over privately for a moment, he said, "I know people in the county. I'll try Victory Middle School first. If they sell, I'll come back for another batch. How about three days?"

"Three days to sell 150 sets?" Yang Rui looked at him helplessly.

Mimeographed papers actually cost very little to produce. Even including labor, costs came to no more than half the selling price, meaning 150 sets could earn fifteen yuan.

If that many sold every day, the monthly profit would be 450 yuan, enough even to buy a biological microscope. But if it took three days to sell 150 papers, income would drop to 150 yuan a month, enough only to buy blackboards and such for teaching large classes.

That fell seriously short of Yang Rui's expectations.

He had even hoped to increase shipments gradually.

Shi Gui looked at Yang Rui in confusion. He thought selling 150 sets in three days was plenty. How many textbooks did the county's Xinhua Bookstore sell in a day, anyway?

Differences in outlook like this were the hardest to communicate across. Sometimes action worked where words did not.

Yang Rui sighed, thinking, Good thing I prepared in advance.

He beckoned a boy over from beneath the literary youths' tree outside the gate, then told Shi Gui, "I suggest starting with County No. 1 High School. It'll set an example. This is Wang Meng, a student there and his class's math representative. He originally came to copy questions on behalf of his classmates, but I persuaded him to go with you to sell the papers. With him introducing you, you'd do best to deal directly with the teachers. You should be able to sell 150 sets in a day. As for the few extra sets, give them to his classmates. Do the same in future."

Shi Gui ran a small restaurant and understood how social dealings worked. It dawned on him. "I understand. Don't worry. Wang Meng, I'll be counting on your help this time. Do you smoke?"

He took out a pack of Baocheng Cigarettes and deftly shook one out.

Wang Meng was tall and thin. He accepted the cigarette a little stiffly, lit it, took a puff, and coughed softly twice.

Yang Rui smiled and took two packs of Daqianmen Cigarettes from his pocket, handing one each to Wang Meng and Shi Gui before addressing the latter. "If you sell all the papers in one day, I suggest you don't come straight back. Telegraph the town first, and I'll have someone deliver more papers. Stay there and get familiar with things. It'll save your strength too."

"Stay in the county seat?"

"Yes."

"Well..."

Knowing what he wanted to say, Yang Rui spoke first. "Find your own lodging. I'll reimburse one yuan a night in travel expenses. Once you've covered County No. 1 High School, visit Victory Middle School and Glory Middle School too, and work on building connections. Once we've opened up the county market, there'll be no need to make special rounds in the townships. We'll just deliver the goods."

Selling medicine meant cultivating doctors; selling teaching materials meant cultivating teachers. Back when Yang Rui was in graduate school, many of his classmates had switched to working as pharmaceutical representatives. Had he not become a tutor, Yang Rui might have taken that path too. He had never done it himself, but he had seen how it worked.

Shi Gui was startled to hear the figure of one yuan. He thought, One yuan a day in travel expenses-that's thirty yuan a month, isn't it? If I stay in a shared bunk room, I could save more than half.

Worried that Yang Rui was testing him, he said uncertainly, "That's too expensive."

"Working connections is always the cheapest way to sell things. Just do as I say." Yang Rui did not so much as blink when he said it.

The well-behaved Wang Meng flushed bright red and lowered his head, pretending not to hear.

It would be a few more years before everyone started using backdoor connections. Chinese people still had some scruples at present, and there was certainly no shortage of pretended moral superiority.

Compared with this generation's moral standards, Yang Rui's bottom line had started out rather low, then sunk even lower after graduate school. There had been little choice. His adviser was merely an associate professor at an ordinary university and frequently had to put on a smile for the university, pharmaceutical companies, and other organizations himself, to say nothing of the students working under him.

Unlike the system abroad, Chinese pharmaceutical companies essentially had no research organizations of their own. Those bearing the name of corporate research institutes generally had only the capabilities of a factory's technical department and did the same work.

Domestic pharmaceutical research relied primarily on universities. The so-called integration of industry, academia, and research meant companies paid universities to conduct research, and universities handed their results over to the companies while making some money for themselves along the way.

If professors at foreign universities still had some grounds for lofty independence, the research system at domestic universities had long since become monetized. It was hard to say how many skills Yang Rui had learned from his adviser, but he had certainly seen plenty of bad corporate behavior, both domestic and foreign.

To Yang Rui, cultivating connections and the like were utterly trivial matters.

With no well-developed plan of his own, Shi Gui could only follow Yang Rui's suggestions.

He and Wang Meng worked together to lift the test papers onto the bicycles' rear racks, then rode toward the bus station one behind the other.

County No. 1 High School.

Shi Gui stood outside the wall by the school's rear gate, smoking nonstop.

He smoked each unfiltered flue-cured cigarette until it nearly burned his fingers, then took one last hard drag, spat it onto the ground, and ground it into the mud with his old black cloth shoe.

He did not dare sell the test papers at the main gate. Although plenty of people passed through, there was a police booth nearby.

The streets were far from peaceful these days. Young people all over town got into fights at the slightest provocation. Some who had graduated years ago but had no jobs, including fellows who had never even attended high school, particularly liked causing trouble outside County No. 1 High School. Only after several incidents had the county police bureau set up the post, sending a uniformed officer morning and evening to watch students arrive and leave.

Shi Gui did not know whether the policeman in the booth dealt with publications, but he would rather wait by the rear gate than suffer the humiliation of being hauled into the police station.

Nor had he gone straight to the teachers of the college entrance exam classes, as Yang Rui had suggested. He did not know what to say.

In the end, Wang Meng had volunteered, taking a set of questions and saying he would promote them in the classroom.

The wait lasted two hours.

Shi Gui had smoked half a pack before he saw Wang Meng emerge with a few classmates.

Shi Gui counted seven people altogether, including Wang Meng.

As they approached, Shi Gui craned his neck farther to look.

There was no one else behind them.

Shi Gui was deeply disappointed.

Seven sets amounted to only one yuan forty fen in sales, of which he would receive just twenty-eight fen-the price of a good pack of cigarettes, not even enough to cover lodging and the round-trip fare.

"The papers are behind me. Help yourselves." Imagining at least a few dozen buyers, Shi Gui had carried out a full fifty sets on his back. He had left the rest with a friend nearby, thinking he could fetch them if sales were good.

But with only seven people in total, he really could not muster any enthusiasm.

Having already accepted a pack of Daqianmen Cigarettes from Yang Rui, along with private promises, Wang Meng eagerly stepped forward, untied Shi Gui's bundle, and pulled out several sets for his classmates.

They opened the cardboard boxes on the spot, took out the papers, and examined them sheet by sheet, quietly comparing the quality of the paper and the clarity of the print.

Shi Gui was somewhat displeased. Still, he knew that a friendly manner brought business, and let none of it show on his face.

Wang Meng squatted on the ground, carefully counting the sets, occasionally pulling one out for his classmates to inspect.

Just as Shi Gui felt his patience nearing its limit, Wang Meng called out, "Uncle Shi, why are there only fifty sets?"

"I left the rest at a friend's place. These things are terribly heavy, and the road here isn't easy either." Shi Gui shook out another cigarette and struck a match to light it.

Wang Meng glanced at his classmates and stood up. "Uncle Shi, I'll go get them with you."

"What for?"

"Our teacher Li-even that gets censored-said the questions were very well written. He told us to bring them all over so he could hand them out to his class to work through as tests. You'll also need to tell Brother Rui to send another hundred copies." Wang Meng slapped his forehead as he spoke. "Right, if Teacher Deng X's class wants them too, we'll need another two hundred-plus copies."

Shi Gui froze. Only when the match burned down to his fingers did he cry out, "Ah! You're buying so many... Why don't you just copy them yourselves?"

"Twelve papers! Copying them would take ages. Besides, Teacher Li X wants to use them for in-class tests, so they need to look a bit neater." A boy wearing glasses had quite the pride of a County No. 1 student.

"Then can't you mimeograph them yourselves?"

"Print twelve papers at once? Impossible. Each time you apply, the school gives you enough paper for two tests at most. There's no way they'd print this many." The boy with glasses smiled knowingly. "The school doesn't want to spend the money. Besides, at twenty fen a set, it wouldn't save much."

When the school printed test papers, it could enlist students to help, but it could not charge separately for paper, ink, and other materials. With the limited tuition and miscellaneous fees students paid, the leadership kept strict control over this.

Purchased test papers were different. Though likewise mimeographed, they had no direct connection to the school, so students could be asked to pay for them themselves, just as with other study aids.

That was the fundamental distinction between spending "your own" money and spending someone else's.

Shi Gui did not understand school affairs, but his heart began pounding rapidly.

To him, this walled school campus looked like a Peach Blossom Haven where suckers were kept in captivity.