Chapter 7: A Good Start

Mei-Shi picked up a medium-sized lunchbox and showed it to the woman.

“Look here, Ma’am. Our lunchbox is deeper than an ordinary bowl. It can hold two bowls of rice, with room on top for dishes. Once you put the lid on, you won’t have to worry about spilling or mice getting into it.”

The woman took it and inspected it; it felt quite comfortable in her hands.

“If your man takes one when he goes out to work, he’ll never have to worry about going hungry!”

Having called out her first pitch, Mei-Shi found the words flowing more and more smoothly.

“If your child takes one to school, they won’t have to gnaw on cold steamed buns anymore!

And if they can’t finish, just put the lid back on and bring it home just as it was!

Tell me, isn’t that convenient and clean?”

The woman examined the item closely. It was smooth without any splinters, not clumsy and heavy like ordinary bamboo bowls, but rather quite well-crafted.

“What did you say this was called?” the woman asked.

“A lunchbox,” Mei-Shi replied.

“A lunchbox…” the woman murmured softly under her breath.

This item was not as ornate as a multi-tiered food carrier, but it still looked nice.

Nor was it as elaborate as a food carrier, having only a single layer, but it was far more compact.

A food carrier required packing separate bowls and dishes inside, but this did not; everything could go straight in together.

Being made of bamboo, unlike earthenware or porcelain bowls, there was no fear of it shattering with a single drop.

For ordinary households carrying meals, calling it a lunchbox was fitting indeed.

“I also have water canteens here! You can use them for water or tea, and taking off the lid gives you a bowl to drink from!” Seeing that the woman looked somewhat tempted, Mei-Shi quickly picked up a canteen and handed it over. “Look, Ma’am, you can even put soup in it!”

“A water canteen?” the woman asked, curious.

“Look, Ma’am, there’s a round spout here. Doesn’t it look just like a canteen?” Mei-Shi said with a smile.

“How much?” the woman finally asked about the price.

“The lunchbox and canteen come as a set, not sold separately. The set in your hand is twelve Wen,” Mei-Shi quoted.

Common clay bowls cost only three Wen apiece these days, so the woman found it a bit pricey.

“Ma’am, what you might not know is that our lunchboxes and canteens have all been heat-cured. They won’t crack easily, and if cared for properly, they’ll last a very long time!”

A customer had finally stopped by after so much waiting; how could Mei-Shi let her walk away so easily?

“Just look, ordinary bamboo bowls cost five or six Wen each, and none are as well-crafted as ours! And look at these two lids, it’s practically like getting two little bowls thrown in for free!”

The woman still seemed hesitant.

“Ma’am, anyone can tell at a glance that you’re a skilled homemaker.” Mei-Shi took out a pair of chopsticks and a spoon, saying, “How about this? If you buy this set with the lunchbox and canteen, I’ll toss in a pair of chopsticks and a spoon for free!”

This was a clever move on Mei-Shi’s part.

If the chopsticks and spoon had been bundled from the start, the woman might have bargained down the price.

Now, separated and offered as a gift, they became an extra bonus.

The woman gritted her teeth. “Throw in another pair of chopsticks and one more spoon!”

“Oh, that won’t do! Buying chopsticks and a spoon elsewhere would cost two Wen! We run a small trade here and barely make one or two Wen in all, and every bit of it is hard-earned money!” Mei-Shi gritted her teeth as well. “How about this, then? Seeing as you’re our very first customer, I’ll toss in one more pair of chopsticks!”

They had made extra chopsticks in the first place, prepared specifically for moments like this.

The woman thought it over, then nodded. “Deal.”

Suppressing her joy, Mei-Shi placed the items into the woman’s basket, her hands trembling as she took the coins.

“By the way, what did you carve on here?” the woman asked, pointing at the mark.

“Oh, that’s our family mark. My husband’s surname is Song,” Mei-Shi replied.

The woman asked no further questions and left.

The onlookers nearby had not dispersed yet. Inspired, Mei-Shi seized the moment and shouted, “Beautiful and practical lunchboxes! The first ten buyers get free chopsticks-!”

Market days always had their peak hours of foot traffic.

During the morning rush, Mei-Shi put her all into it and sold sixteen sets. She talked until her lips trembled, only realizing how exhausted she was once she finally rested.

Song Dalang hurried to help his wife sit down and brought out the food they had packed from home for Mei-Shi to eat.

Before leaving early that morning, Mei-Shi had intentionally set aside a set of lunchbox and canteen for their own use.

The weather was mild, and the food packed in the morning was still warm. Taking a bite of warm food and a sip of hot tea, Mei-Shi instantly felt that all the exhaustion had been worthwhile.

Nearby, a vendor selling maltose candy was gnawing on a cold flatbread. Seeing the warm meal next to him, he felt a bit envious and asked, “Is that lunchbox of yours really that good?”

Song Dalang cleverly poured a bowl of tea using the canteen’s lid and handed it over, saying, “Our family only has coarse tea, so I hope you don’t mind.”

Hot tea was certainly better than cold water.

Having drunk their tea, the candy vendor said, “Then I’ll take a set too.”

His child would need it for school later, and when traveling far, he would no longer have to worry about missing a meal.

Returning the courtesy, Song Dalang bought a small piece of malt candy, broke it into pieces, and fed a piece to Mei-Shi first.

Mei-Shi declined. “Take it back for Daya.”

“There’s still some for Daya,” Song Dalang insisted. “You’ve worked hard too. Have a piece.”

Unable to refuse him, Mei-Shi opened her mouth and ate it. “You have a piece too.”

“I don’t need any.” Song Dalang smiled. “A grown man like me doesn’t eat sweets.”

Around midday, the crowds at the market gradually dispersed. Song Dalang shouldered his carrying pole and began leading Mei-Shi through the streets and alleys to hawk their wares.

“Is this how you usually hawk your goods?” Mei-Shi asked.

This was her first time going out with her husband to sell things.

“Mm,” Song Dalang answered softly.

Business was slow in the afternoon. The wealthy looked down on the goods, while the poor could not afford them, resulting in only five sets sold here and there.

As the sun gradually sank toward the west, Song Dalang carried his load outside an academy.

Classes had let out, and the students were trickling out one after another. Mei-Shi began calling out again, just as she had before.

The students at this academy did not go home at noon. Those from wealthy families had meals brought to them, while those without money brought their own food, or else went hungry.

Those who had a few coins in their pockets came over out of curiosity.

One look showed that the set was cleverly made, having everything needed to eat and drink, complete with chopsticks and a spoon.

“Tuck it into a pouch and hang it over your shoulder, and it’s ever so handy for spring outings!” Mei-Shi pitched the idea, thinking of her daughter’s little satchel.

The youths thought it over and realized she had a point.

Besides, the regular script^[1] was handsomely carved, lending an air of status to anyone carrying it, so they paid up to buy the novelty.

Just like that, they sold three more sets.

Seeing that it was getting late and they had a long way to go, the couple dared not linger. Hoisting their carrying pole, they started on the journey home.

Song Dalang had barely eaten anything all day. Mei-Shi saw this and felt an ache in her heart, taking it upon herself to spend some money at a street bun shop for the last few steamed buns.

“What did you buy those for? It’s a waste of money! We could have just eaten at home!” Song Dalang said.

“Earning money isn’t easy, but ruining your health makes it even harder!” Mei-Shi shoved a bun into her husband’s hands. “If you’re ever this stingy with food again, I’ll give you a proper scolding!”

Song Dalang took a bite of the bun, a sweet warmth filling his heart.

Mei-Shi took her husband’s arm, thinking to herself that life finally had something to look forward to.

Beneath the falling night, the couple hurried on their way home.

Who knew how their little girl was doing back home?

Was she fussing? Was she hungry? Was she looking for her father?