Early in the morning, before Zhong Yu had gotten up, Xu Bin called a box truck driver whose number he had obtained through a connection. He believed in not putting all his eggs in one basket—clever rabbits have three burrows. Even if Ji Peng was reliable, Xu Bin didn't want all his secrets to depend on one person.
With new packaging boxes and foam cushioning, and bolstered by two rounds of strength enhancements and one body upgrade, Xu Bin was now capable of handling the weight of double-door refrigerators. He loaded some packed units onto the truck. The price had been agreed upon beforehand. As the truck rumbled away, Xu Bin shut the rolling door, the noise waking up Zhong Yu. She stepped out and noticed more large items missing from the neighboring store. That unremarkable-looking man was at it again. You need connections to thrive in this world—and this man was hardworking. From what she had seen these past few days, he'd made a decent profit. If someone wanted a stable life, he'd be a good option.
"Pfft, what are you thinking, Zhong Yu?" she scolded herself. "You're getting ahead of yourself."
After running around to a few more repair shops—half selling, half pretending to deliver—Xu Bin didn't return to the pedestrian street until almost 10 a.m. Along with him came a few more TVs, including two outdated 21-inch CRTs. He didn't expect to sell them; they were just for padding his inventory, and had cost him less than 100 yuan apiece.
In the past couple of weeks, after covering living expenses, rent, stock costs, and setting aside money for future orders, Xu Bin had managed to deposit 5,000 yuan into his Construction Bank account. This was the first time he had such a large amount saved up. Holding that bank card nearly brought him to tears. He had come out here to fight for a future, determined to stand tall as a man. Over a year of hustle—pretending to be meek in the city for the first year, then half a year of independence—had taken its toll. He'd eaten nothing but plain noodles for over half a month at one point, too broke for even instant noodles. He'd scraped together pennies to print flyers, and once couldn't even afford adhesive ones. He had to go with cheap colored paper, poor quality and bleeding ink, that he stuffed into door gaps or pasted using homemade paste made from rice porridge. He still remembered that smell vividly.
That was the first time he had cried in front of the stove. He had considered giving up, going back home, swallowing his pride and being the "good kid" his parents wanted, letting them plan out his life. Why suffer like this? Why fight so hard? Why not enjoy the comfort of aging parents' care?
But he had made it through.
He had survived. And the pain of those days was still fresh. The 5,000 yuan in savings was more than money—it was a reward, a sign of hope. Holding the card, he was speechless. Back at the shop, looking at the brand-new phones in the display case, the appliances in the back room, and his own hands, Xu Bin felt immense confidence in the future. He didn't care how exhausting it was to haul fridges and TVs. Sweat poured down like raindrops, as if shedding the past. It was all behind him now. A new future awaited.
"No more plain noodles. No more running around the apartment complex like a hunted dog. No more living in fear or hiding from the sun," he vowed. "I will succeed. I have this godlike cheat code—the only thing I need to contribute is hard work. And if, as a man, I can't even work hard, what right do I have to survive in this world?"
Zhong Yu soaked a towel in hot water and handed it to Xu Bin after he stopped working. "Wipe off that stink. Didn't expect someone your size to be so strong."
A simple towel—at that moment—felt like the embodiment of happiness. Xu Bin stripped off his damp T-shirt and wiped his face and neck. A faint scent of shampoo lingered on the towel. Only then did he realize—it was Zhong Yu's pink cotton towel.
She nudged him. "What are you staring at? I need a new towel anyway. That one's yours now."
Xu Bin grinned sheepishly as he watched her toss his shirt into the washing machine. In a house full of appliances, why wouldn't they use them? He had kept a small fully-automatic washer for themselves instead of selling it. Living under one roof, it made life a bit more convenient.
In the week or so that followed, life settled into a rhythm. Che Dong had completely vanished from Xu Bin's life. Whatever goods he wanted to unload now went through Li Jiuren.
Lao San also hadn't shown up again, though Xu Bin overheard Zhong Yu yelling on the phone a few times. The arguments sounded intense. More than once she had shouted, "I never thought you were that kind of person. Thank god I didn't get into a real relationship with you—I'd regret it for life."
Xu Bin knew it was best not to get involved. Zhong Yu was a girl with a strong sense of independence. Even though their relationship had become quite close, and everyone could tell without them saying anything, she still kept her finances separate. A meal here or a movie there was fine, but she never spent Xu Bin's money elsewhere. Xu Bin respected that a lot. Besides, he didn't have time for distractions—he was always working hard.
Double-Complete Appliances (Shuangquan Dianqi Hang) was gaining a strong reputation. Word of mouth spread—friends telling friends—that this store had great "refurbished" goods. The items were almost new in quality and very reliable. If anyone needed secondhand appliances, this was the place to check out.
Reputation was the hardest thing to earn, yet every business desired it most. Now that he had it, customers naturally came pouring in. The shop was also well-located—visible just off a side street near the pedestrian mall. Xu Bin often praised his own foresight in renting this place. If he had chosen a cheaper, more obscure location, the buzz from this good reputation would have died down fast, and with it, business.
"Clearly marked prices, no cheating," became Xu Bin's next wave of soft advertising. Every item had a fair price tag. No haggling allowed. His prices weren't lower than every secondhand shop—just fair and in-between new and used. That way, he avoided bad blood with competitors while ensuring customers got solid deals. No after-sales service, but you could see with your own eyes—his goods were the real deal.
"Lao Kong, got a fridge for 30 yuan. Fifth floor. Xiuli Community, XX Street. Quick!"
"Lao Kong!"
With more business came more opportunities for others too. Xu Bin's success was beginning to support a small ecosystem. Lao Kong, a cart-puller in his fifties, was one such person. During the farming off-season, he came to the provincial capital to make extra money. Strong and experienced from years of field work, he could handle heavy loads with ease. After helping Xu Bin a few times, Xu Bin decided to keep his number. Any time there was a job, he'd give it to Lao Kong, ensuring him a solid income.
"Hello? Boss Niu? Thanks to you, I'm doing great. Just busy, that's all. I've got a lot of customers right now. Don't worry—I'll prioritize your stuff. Tomorrow, okay? Send the truck. Some of the items might be a bit dated, but I guarantee they're quality goods."
"Boss! New stock again? Nice. You know the rules—bring it straight over. I'll make sure you're paid fairly. No worries."
Xu Bin was swamped. Borrowing a meme of the time: "Du Fu was very busy"—well, so was he. So much so that Zhong Yu often pouted and pinched him. That promise of knocking down the divider wall? Half-complete now. The partition near the bathroom was fully removed. When Xu Bin wasn't at the shop, Zhong Yu even helped him sell.
Riding his bike with a messenger bag, Xu Bin arrived at Anhua, greeting familiar faces as he went. Staying low-key, he didn't buy up goods in bulk even though Anhua was the largest secondhand appliance market in the province. Instead, he selectively bought easy-to-refurbish pieces. He kept his head down and even deliberately bought slightly flawed phones to appear like an amateur buyer. These "losses" often became his shop's bestsellers.
"Meng-ge, here's the Samsung you wanted. Check the quality."
Old Meng, a friend of Han-ge from a nearby shop, had a stall in Anhua. Xu Bin would sometimes drop off items that were hard to sell, cashing out quickly at a lower price. In turn, he'd also buy higher-end models from Meng to refurbish and resell.
This past half-month hadn't just been busy with the usual flipping. Xu Bin had been building a web of deception—spreading risk across multiple sources, keeping anyone from seeing the full picture. If someone tried to investigate, they'd have to trace through over a dozen intermediaries just to understand his store's supply chain.
Old Meng was a pro—fixing phones since the '90s. He knew quality when he saw it. Xu Bin's refurbished phones were so seamless that even Meng couldn't spot signs of tampering. He'd once cracked one open out of curiosity—the motherboard was spotless, solder joints fresh. No visible evidence of refurbishment at all.
"Nice. Here's ¥2,200. Count it. Oh, and I've got a 5S for you. Cracked screen, water damage on the board. Fixed now, but not worth much. See if you want it."
"Great!" Xu Bin smiled. The moment he received the cash, his mind drifted. A system notification popped up: he had finally completed his monthly mission—earning 30,000 yuan. With four days still left in the month, he had made it. The clouds had parted, and the moon was shining through.