Gourd Farm Chapter 63
Translated by Etherna (ko-fi)
Chapter 63: Promise Without Keeping
Uncle Yang hurriedly picked up a large tomato and brought it over to Mr. Qi. "Look at this tomato, isn't it bigger than the ones on your truck?"
Mr. Qi, a seasoned wholesaler, furrowed his brow. He could immediately tell that these were ordinary M6 tomatoes, grown by someone lacking experience, likely a novice in farming.
"Old man, I've been utterly fooled by you today."
"These tomatoes won't be recognized in the market. It's only the shortage of supply that's driving sales now. Otherwise, these tomatoes would be considered unsellable," Mr. Qi said, his expression stern.
Uncle Yang felt a pang of anxiety hearing Mr. Qi's words. He had exaggerated earlier just to lure Mr. Qi here; now, things were not going as planned.
"Sir, are you intentionally trying to lower the price by saying this? Let me tell you, I am well aware of the market prices," Yang Meng interjected, feeling like Mr. Qi was treating their produce as if it were unsellable.
"I can offer you a maximum of five yuan per kilogram for these tomatoes. You can decide if that works for you," Mr. Qi said firmly, taking charge of the negotiation.
Mr. Qi observed the situation and realized that things had taken an unexpected turn. He knew he couldn't go back to Yang Feng with this kind of produce. No wonder Yang Feng didn't respond when he offered the deal earlier. Yang Feng likely knew the quality of their tomatoes.
"What's going on? Weren't you offering 7.5 yuan per kilogram just now?" Uncle Yang shouted in surprise. The sudden price drop caught him off guard.
"I did mention 7.5 yuan, but if your tomatoes match the quality of the ones on my truck, I could pay you 8 yuan," Mr. Qi responded calmly, trying not to provoke the irate Uncle Yang further.
"I won't sell at this price! I'd rather throw them away than sell them to you!" Uncle Yang fumed. The price cut of a third had left him furious.
"Dad, come over here," Yang Meng said, pulling his father's sleeve gently.
"What's going on? Just say it! Don't act so suspicious," Uncle Yang, still angry, wasn't in the mood for subtleties.
"Come over here," Yang Meng said, glaring and grinding his teeth. He forcefully pulled his father's clothes, indicating that he should follow him.
Uncle Yang, noticing his son's serious expression, decided to relent and followed. It was evident that something important was going on.
"Speak up. No need for secrets," Uncle Yang said.
"Dad, our tomatoes are already selling at a good price. I checked the market a few days ago, and given the circumstances, selling at this price is excellent. If it were a few days earlier, getting three yuan would have been considered good," Yang Meng explained, looking serious. He couldn't understand why his father was constantly trying to compete with Yang Feng.
"Is what you're saying true?" Uncle Yang looked at his son, finding his seriousness convincing. He started to believe Yang Meng's words.
"Hurry and sell. If we miss this opportunity and the prices drop tomorrow, we'll regret it," Yang Meng urged. He saw the logic in taking the chance while it was there.
"Alright, alright, we'll sell."
Uncle Yang was still a bit reluctant, wanting to negotiate for a higher price.
"Can't the price be a bit higher?" Uncle Yang asked.
"Old man, even at this price, I'll be at a loss in the market," Mr. Qi replied.
Mr. Qi was regretting his greed; if he hadn't been so greedy, he wouldn't have fallen for Uncle Yang's trap.
...
The group worked diligently, and by midday, they had picked three thousand kilograms of tomatoes. However, the tomatoes had an unusually low hanging rate, with only about twenty per plant at most, and many of them were still unripe.
Mr. Qi sat on the truck, puffing on a cigarette, as he constantly thumped his own back with his fist, visibly frustrated.
"Alright, let's call it a day, old man. Come and settle the bill. This stock isn't worth it."
The tomatoes they had picked were of poor quality, with just two or three usable fruits on each plant. Moreover, the father and son duo on the other side had been sneaking in some substandard ones.
"Mr. Qi, there might be another three to four hundred kilograms left to pick in this greenhouse," Uncle called out as he carried a box of tomatoes out, his face red from the hard work.
"No need, it's too late. We have to head to the market soon. Please check the accounts, old man."
Uncle Yang and Mr. Qi settled the bill, and Yang Meng, seizing a moment when Uncle wasn't paying attention, pocketed five hundred yuan.
"Father, is this payment for my work too much?" he asked, flaunting the money in front of Uncle Yang.
His newly acquired money hadn't even warmed his hands before it was snatched away by his son. A surge of anger flared up inside him.
"You wasteful brat, give it back to me, and quickly!"
"Consider it a loan from me. I'll pay you back in a few days, old man."
Without waiting for Uncle's approval, Yang Meng disappeared in front of him like a flash, and a few minutes later, the sound of a motorcycle engine roared to life.
"That rascal, just wait until I break his legs when he comes back," Uncle Yang grumbled.
In reality, he had planned to give his son a few hundred yuan for his hard work. After all, his son had been busy for so long, and he hadn't seen any money.
Uncle Yang feared Yang Meng might resort to working as a security guard again.
...
"Mr. Yang, how much produce do you have tomorrow? I'll come back to pick it up," Mr. Qi asked as he pulled the truck up. He happened to spot Yang Feng working with a water hose by the roadside.
"Sorry, not selling for now," Yang Feng replied curtly.
Yang Feng couldn't be bothered to deal with him. He had over a dozen buyers in his contacts, and a simple phone call would bring someone over. Besides, his produce was of high quality, so he had no worries about selling.
"Oh, no worries today," Mr. Qi said hastily, seeing that Yang Feng wasn't interested in talking. He stepped on the gas and headed towards the market.
*Ding ding ding*
He checked his phone and saw a call from Li Yi.
"Hello."
"Yang, do you still have tomatoes available?"
"Yes, I do, but the prices have gone up these past few days."
Yesterday, while delivering goods to a nearby restaurant, he bumped into Liu Hao, who worked as a chef at Little Kitchen, a restaurant nearby.
Because of their previous good relationship, Li Yi explained that they had been receiving tomatoes from another supplier, but the quality was much worse than Yang Feng's produce.
One day, when the restaurant owner brought his daughter to eat, the little girl insisted on having tomato and egg stir-fry, a dish she used to enjoy. However, when the dish was cooked and served, it was sent back twice because the child refused to eat it. Li Yi was called over by the owner for a conversation, but the final outcome was unclear.
"The price has gone up again. How much is it now?"
"At least 10 yuan per kilogram, and payments must be settled daily."
Li Yi, on the other end of the call, had been scolded severely by the restaurant owner a couple of days ago and almost lost his job over a small bonus issue.
With the quality of tomatoes from the other supplier declining, business at the restaurant had started to suffer.
Yang Feng, being straightforward, stated that both sides were driven by profit, so there was no need for pretense.
There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.
"Alright, send me twenty kilograms tomorrow," Li Yi agreed.
The restaurant owner had specifically instructed that even if the profit margin was not up to standard, they couldn't compromise on the quality of ingredients.
