Chapter 00006: Setting Up the Stall
# Setting Up the Stall
Chapter 6
Novel: 1979 Golden Age
Chapter 6: Setting Up the Stall
Early April.
Another morning arrived.
After the family had breakfast, Chen Qi dressed in a set of gray clothes with a cotton shirt underneath and his usual black cloth shoes with red soles.
He was excited to go sell tea, but his parents looked worried, almost as if they were about to perform a dramatic scene of cutting ties with their son.
"You, with a perfectly good job, why do you insist on ruining yourself?" his mother, Yu Xiuli, said with tears in her eyes.
"Mom, don’t make me sound like an idiot. I’m sharper than a monkey!" Chen Qi retorted, feeling a bit helpless.
"Just be careful. If it doesn’t work out, come back and tell us," his father, Chen Jianjun, added.
Finally, Yu Xiuli tried to hand him a cotton hat, but Chen Qi refused to wear it.
He thought it would ruin his looks, making him look like a mix between a celebrity and a comedian.
Huang Zhanying, on the other hand, stood quietly by, her parents showing no concern at all.
Chen Qi waved his hand, and Huang Zhanying silently followed behind him.
To an outsider, it might have looked like a man finally paying a hefty dowry to marry his bride.
Their meeting point was the Arrow Tower near Qianmen, just a few hundred meters away.
It took them about ten minutes to walk there.
This area was part of Beijing’s central axis, home to landmarks like the Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square, the Monument to the People’s Heroes, and the Mausoleum of Mao Zedong.
The Arrow Tower, built during the Ming Dynasty, stood 38 meters tall and was quite impressive.
Below it was a large gate where the People’s Liberation Army had marched through in 1949.
"Huang Zhanying!"
"Chen Qi!"
By the time they arrived, the other eleven unemployed youths were already there, bustling under the direction of Auntie Wang.
She spotted them and called out, "Come quick! Help set up the bowls and get the stove going!"
"Got it!" Chen Qi rolled up his sleeves and got to work.
Preparing to sell tea wasn’t complicated.
They had pooled 40 yuan to buy two large teapots, tea leaves, and 50 coarse ceramic bowls.
The table was borrowed, and the stove was built on the spot—yes, right in front of Qianmen!
This wasn’t even the most unusual thing.
There were people selling radishes in Tiananmen Square, after all.
The tea they used was the cheapest kind, selling for 2 fen per bowl.
For comparison, a bottle of Arctic Ocean soda cost 15 fen, which was considered a luxury.
The taste and quality of their tea were far from luxurious, so they priced it accordingly.
Chen Qi looked busy but wasn’t actually doing much.
He was just pretending.
"Ah, I’m so tired!" he said, wiping imaginary sweat.
"Auntie Wang, can I try a bowl first?"
"Go ahead. Our tea might be cheap, but it’s thirst-quenching. People passing by don’t care about the taste; they just want something to drink. Here, take a break," Auntie Wang said, pouring bowls of tea for everyone.
Chen Qi picked up a bowl, feeling the rough texture of the ceramic.
He took a sip, and the taste hit him like a memory from a past life—back when he was still working a regular job and bought some cheap tea online for 10 yuan.
The flavor was... well, let’s just say it wasn’t great.
"Ugh, it’s all tea dust and stems!" he muttered.
The others didn’t seem to mind.
They had grown up drinking this kind of tea.
What was "high-end tea dust," anyway? In old Beijing, poor people couldn’t afford good tea but still wanted to enjoy it.
So tea shops came up with the idea of selling tea dust and calling it "high-end tea dust."
It gave the poor a sense of dignity while letting them enjoy their tea.
Classic Beijing style!
Even the famous Zhang Yiyuan tea shop in Dashilan still sold this kind of tea dust in later years.
As they were setting up, a crowd began to gather.
Qianmen had been a bustling area since the Qing Dynasty.
It was filled with shops, had convenient transportation, and was home to bus stops, train stations, and even a subway station (which opened in 1971).
There was also a fancy hotel called the Qianmen Hotel, where cars were often parked outside.
Beijing’s population was now 8.97 million, and with all the travelers, foreign visitors, and overseas Chinese passing through, the foot traffic here was enormous.
Men, women, and children dressed in gray, blue, and military green clothes crowded around, looking like curious NPCs in a video game, ready to trigger a "drink tea" quest.
When Huang Zhanying and the others finally noticed the crowd, they froze.
"Auntie Wang, what do we do now?" they asked.
"Call out to them! That’s how you do business. If you don’t call out, no one will come!"
"We have a sign..."
"A sign isn’t enough. You have to shout!"
"Call out, call out..."
The twelve of them, including Huang Zhanying, were like clueless college students.
None of them had done this before, and they were too embarrassed to shout—whether it was 1979 or 2024, many people would struggle to call out like street vendors.
Auntie Wang wasn’t going to bail them out.
"Don’t rely on me. I can’t help you every time. You have to do it yourselves."
"Hey, what are you selling?"
"Why aren’t you saying anything?"
The crowd, sensing their awkwardness, started teasing them.
They weren’t being mean, just curious and a bit amused.
Huang Zhanying glanced at Chen Qi, who was busy counting ants on the ground.
She took a deep breath, her face turning red, and stammered, "Big... big bowl tea! Two fen a bowl!"
Boom!
Even though the sign clearly said "Big Bowl Tea, 2 Fen a Bowl," and even though the crowd had some idea of what to expect, her shout still caused a stir.
This moment was like China’s first bottle of cola, its first TV commercial, its first swimsuit poster, its first disco, its first Teresa Teng song, its first red dress...
It was a small ripple in the sea of people, slowly building into a wave of reform.
Someone a few steps away asked, "Comrade, which unit are you from?"
"We’re from the Dashilan Production Service Cooperative."
"Do we need coupons?"
"No coupons needed!"
The back-and-forth confirmed their legitimacy, and the crowd grew more excited.
The man who had asked the questions hesitated but finally stepped forward.
He looked like a middle-aged official, carrying a bag and speaking with a Shandong accent.
"Give me three bowls!"
"Coming right up!"
Huang Zhanying quickly signaled to her companions, who fumbled as they poured the tea.
The yellowish-brown liquid filled the white-and-blue ceramic bowls, steam rising from the surface.
They were inexperienced.
They should have poured the tea earlier and covered it to let it cool.
The man reached out to touch the bowl and found it scalding hot.
He chuckled and said, "We’ve been running around all morning and couldn’t find any water. Your tea stall is a lifesaver. Thank you."
"We’re just serving the people. Are you here on business?"
"Yes, we’re from Shandong."
"Welcome to Beijing! If you have time, you should visit the Great Wall, the Forbidden City, and the Summer Palace. They’re all worth seeing."
Huang Zhanying gradually calmed down, her natural extroverted side starting to show.
The man had two companions, and each of them drank a bowl.
They enjoyed it so much that they ordered three more bowls.
Then, the man pulled out two 5-fen coins and two 1-fen coins, neatly placing them on the table.
"Thank you for supporting our work!"
"Come again!"
Huang Zhanying’s hands trembled as she took the money.
She felt a mix of embarrassment and pride.
They had just sold six bowls of tea, and the sound of the coins clinking into the cash box was music to their ears.
The same expression of satisfaction appeared on her companions’ faces.
As for Chen Qi? He was still counting ants.
(End of Chapter)