Chapter 2 Selling Goods-North School Tomb Raider’s Notes

Dragging my suitcase through the north gate into the market, the first thing I saw was the large shed area, and man, it happened to be a Saturday, and to say it was packed would be an understatement.

Vajra Bodhi, beeswax turquoise, porcelain miscellaneous items, jade jewelry, bronze weapons, stone carving and topiary, embroidery and painting, really everything, look at my eyes wide open, dazzling.

Of course, most of them are fake, and very few have the real thing on the shed floor.

I got a kick out of it and thought to myself, “It’s all fake here, I collected all my stuff myself, it’s real old stuff, so it should sell out fast.”

I saw an empty stall in the shed, so I was ready to get out my stuff and set up.

“Hey, what are you doing?” A bald stall owner next to me stopped me.

“Setting up a stall,” I said.

“Set up a stall? This is your stall? You just set up? Go, go, brat get lost.” ??

I clenched my teeth and said, “I’m going to set up a stall, is this your stall, I’ll pay you, how much do you want?”

The bald man’s eyes dripped, he immediately smiled and said, “One hundred dollars, give one hundred dollars and you pose.”

“What! It’s a hundred dollars!”

“Why is it so expensive!”

He squinted his eyes and said, “That’s the price, if you don’t swing it, get out of my way.”

I had less than a hundred left in my pocket, so I gritted my teeth, and after some haggling, I gave him ninety.

That’s it, now I only have three dollars left in my entire body.

The bald man took the money and kept smiling.

Unbeknownst to me, I had just spread out my stall and was barely halfway through setting up my stuff when the antique market’s loud speakers started blaring.

“Dear travelers merchants, Panjiayuan old goods market has come to the closing time, please travelers with their belongings, orderly leave the market, I wish you a happy shopping, business is booming.”

As soon as the horn sounded, the stallholders around the area began to close up their stalls.

I was all over the place.

Silly, I haven’t even set it up yet

I huffed and puffed and said to the bald guy, “You give me my money back, now the market is closing and I haven’t even started swinging yet.”

“Bah!” The bald man spat a mouthful of phlegm and coldly scolded me: “You paralyzed, why didn’t you swing! You’ve got the cloth on! It’s not like you’ve done it! It’s impossible to return the money!”

My eyes reddened and I got anxious, I was grabbing his arm and wouldn’t let go, yelling for him to give me my money back.

“Fuck you little brat!” He kicked me hard in the stomach.

I was only 17, where could I beat this guy, I couldn’t even stand up straight from the pain.

There were fewer and fewer people around, everyone had closed up their stalls and loaded their tricycles to pull them away, and the bald guy who kicked me had also left.

It’s a cold winter month, not as cold as the desert river, but it’s cold at night.

The market security guard had a big dog on a leash, and when he saw that I was slow in closing up, he kept pushing me, saying that he would fine me if I was late.

The days were short and the nights were long, and by the time I dragged my suitcase out of the market, it was dark, I was cold and hungry, and I only had three dollars on me.

After sitting on a roadside bench for half an hour, I inquired about an internet cafe over at Warwick Bridge West Lane, about two kilometers away.

I dragged the box again to go that way, but I did not want to think of the Internet cafe to ask, people open the cheapest machine of the package night also want ten dollars, I do not have enough money.

The idea of living in an internet cafe was also dashed.

It was so cold outside that I couldn’t stand it, so I pulled my suitcase and ducked into an ATM self-service bank.

From time to time, people come in to get money and they all look at me differently.

The floor was cold and I had a hard time sleeping, so I put on the hood of my cotton shirt and curled up against the corner.