Chapter Ten: Changing Gear and Buying Free-Range Chickens

Once this idea emerged in Zhong Di’s mind, a torrent of thoughts followed in quick succession. The orchard’s current predicament was its inability to generate income—if only this problem could be solved, there was hope for gradual improvement. Intercropping with cash crops, especially fast-growing vegetables, could yield produce in a short span of time. As soon as products appeared, income would follow, enabling further investment and creating a virtuous cycle. Now that he had some funds at hand, he could do much more.

Zhong Di fetched a notebook to jot down his ideas, making an initial selection based on feasibility according to the current situation, and set aside those with the greatest potential. Time soon slipped into noon. After confirming several plans, Zhong Di committed them to memory.

“Yusheng, time to eat.” He called to his beloved dog, retrieved the leftovers from breakfast, and set them out. The food was cold—lacking kitchen tools, Zhong Di had no choice but to make do, eating only until he was half full. Yusheng, however, was unbothered, eating and drinking with gusto.

In the afternoon, having switched to another plot, Zhong Di set out for town with Yusheng in his arms, riding his small electric scooter. Glancing at his shopping list, he realized he was about to spend another large sum. He felt a brief pang of regret, but quickly let it go—after all, initial investment was necessary, or nothing could get done.

The distance from the jujube orchard to Lingjing Village was six or seven kilometers, and from there to the county center was not exactly close—over ten kilometers at least. Fortunately, the scooter had a new battery, or it would never have made the trip.

Yusheng seemed invigorated by the novel outing, showing not a hint of fear—only excitement, squirming in Zhong Di’s arms. Zhong Di hadn’t planned on bringing the dog, but the thought of leaving it shut in all day seemed pitiful, so he brought it along. Who could have guessed it would be so restless?

“Stop squirming, or I’ll throw you off and make you run the rest of the way,” Zhong Di threatened, though powerless to do more. As soon as he finished speaking, Yusheng gazed up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Oh, so you can actually understand me? Still, no use looking aggrieved. If you keep it up, you’ll be running on your own.” Looking into those lively eyes, he thought he’d acquired quite a clever dog—one with an innate spirit.

Sure enough, after that, Yusheng quieted down, allowing Zhong Di to ride without distraction.

He avoided the main highway, instead taking a side road—though e-scooters were technically allowed on the main road, the heavy truck traffic made it too dangerous.

Once in town, Zhong Di’s first stop was the electric tricycle dealership. He picked out a sturdy-looking model and spent seven thousand yuan on it—his new companion for the foreseeable future.

Produce alone wouldn’t suffice; if the orchard wasn’t managed well or lacked character, it wouldn’t attract customers. He’d have to haul the goods out to sell. He’d considered buying a small truck, but gave up on the idea—he didn’t have a license, and a truck would cost fifty or sixty thousand, nearly draining his funds.

He loaded the scooter and Yusheng onto the tricycle and headed to the appliance store, picking up essentials like an induction cooker—anything to make meals easier. Next were daily necessities, which he bought in full, before moving on to the next destination: the free market.

The free market had existed for years, a chaotic bazaar of all sorts—permanent shops, street stalls, makeshift storefronts cobbled together with steel sheeting. Every kind of business could be found: general goods, hardware, fresh produce, poultry, and more—everything except high-end items.

Zhong Di had come to the free market hoping to chance upon an opportunity. The place teemed with noise and bustle. Holding Yusheng, he wandered from stall to stall, watching closely and occasionally stopping to inquire about prices—most stalls sold vegetables.

He needed to understand the market, to decide what to plant for the best returns.

“Young man, want some native chickens? Half-grown ones. It’s late in the day, I’ll give you a good price so I can head home—my son’s birthday is today,” called a stall owner, pointing to a group of half-grown chicks.

Zhong Di saw that each bird weighed about a kilogram. If he bought them, raised them well, they could be sold in a month or two—worth considering.

“How much? By the bird or by weight?” he asked, mimicking his father’s businesslike tone. It was an insider’s question—half-grown chickens were sometimes sold by the bird, sometimes by weight.

“I can see you know your stuff. Here’s the deal: I’ve got six hundred and twenty here. If you take them all, I’ll let them go for twenty-five apiece. Authentic native chickens—rock-bottom price,” the stall owner said, haggling skillfully, sensing Zhong Di’s genuine intent to buy.

“Let’s make it a round number—six hundred even,” Zhong Di replied, having already decided to buy. The price was right: twenty-five for a one-kilo native chicken was a good deal. The stall owner wasn’t overcharging, so Zhong Di didn’t bother haggling further. He knew the vendor wouldn’t budge below twenty-five.

In raising chickens, the greatest risk and cost lay with the chicks—by the time they reached a kilo, most of the hard work was done. All that was left was to let them grow. A mature native chicken would fetch around a hundred yuan each. Even if fed only commercial feed, after deducting all expenses, the cost would be fifty, leaving a fifty-yuan profit per bird.

“All right, six hundred it is,” the stall owner agreed readily, throwing in the extra twenty as a bonus.

“But there’s no way I can haul them back myself. You’ll have to deliver, and bring some of the feed you use—just a thousand yuan’s worth is fine,” Zhong Di said, knowing his little electric tricycle couldn’t possibly carry so many chickens.

He knew as well that feed formulas varied from farm to farm—if the birds were switched to a new feed abruptly, they might not adapt well. Better to start with what they were used to.

“No problem. Just give me your address and contact info.”

“Nine Lane, Third Alley, Lingjing Village. Let’s add each other on WeChat; we might do business again,” Zhong Di replied, exchanging details with the vendor, whose surname was Zhao, and sending over his phone number.

Six hundred chickens cost fifteen thousand, plus a thousand for feed—sixteen thousand in total. Zhong Di didn’t pay a deposit; sometimes sellers required one for delivery, but just as often, payment was made upon receipt.

He wandered the market a bit longer and came upon another stall selling mature chickens—larger ones at a good price. He bought twenty for fifteen hundred yuan, seventy-five each. Among them were two roosters and eighteen hens. The hens, after a few days of care, would start laying eggs—a steady source of income.

After finishing his rounds, Zhong Di drove his new electric tricycle into the market, loaded up his purchase, covered them with netting, and set off for home, the tricycle humming along the road.