Comparatively speaking, blueberries weren’t a cheap fruit.
Saying he wouldn’t reference his phone’s prices, Qiao Ning still searched ahead of time. He’d gotten smarter: sort shopping apps high to low, and he found blueberries going for the equivalent of four hundred–plus yuan a jin.
Four hundred plus!
Qiao Ning was almost tempted to buy some and compare them to his Spirit Spring blueberries.
No need to taste—the landlady gave him the answer.
“That imported blueberry I bought before—a thousand–plus yuan for these four little boxes.” The landlady gestured the size of a small box. “Two hundred grams each, I think. The fruit was a bit bigger, taste was decent.”
The taste genuinely wasn’t bad—quite tasty—but compared to the blueberries she usually bought at a few dozen yuan a jin, the difference wasn’t enormous.
But the blueberries Qiao Ning brought were something else entirely. Who knew how they’d been cultivated—that texture and flavor raised the bar by a whole other level.
Put it this way: blindfold her now, and she could identify which was Qiao Ning’s fruit in one bite.
The landlady summed up: “Little Qiao, these blueberries of yours—anything under five hundred won’t do.”
She was about to name her own target price when she suddenly recalled the someone who’d snapped up eight boxes, and swerved mid-sentence: “How about this—ask that schoolmate of yours. Have you negotiated the price with him?”
If the guy balked at the cost, perfect—she’d take ALL the blueberries.
What? How does one person eat a hundred–plus jin of blueberries? Easy—she wasn’t eating alone.
Today, when Qiao Ning’s message came, she hadn’t even dared notify her good girlfriends, and had specifically told Qiao Ning not to contact them—they’d asked her to buy on their behalf—precisely because too many people would mean she got nothing.
Of the cherry tomatoes bought last time, she’d eaten several jin by herself and never tired of them.
She’d also sent some to her parents and her in-laws—the elders loved them too. If her child weren’t studying so far away, abroad, she’d have sent some there for sure.
Plus other close relatives and friends—she’d divided and divided, sending a bit to everyone. The first strawberry batch had been too small to share.
Everyone who ate them said they were incredible, and called specifically to ask where she’d bought them, wanting more.
Even her ex-husband—maybe having mooched a bite at his parents’ place—contacted her, asking if he could buy more, to gift clients.
So a hundred–odd jin of blueberries really wasn’t much. She’d intercepted Qiao Ning’s messages to her girlfriends; she’d owe them a few boxes later or be cursed to death and unable to show her face at the mahjong parlor.
Once divided, how much would remain? She still had relatives and friends to gift!
She was positively praying Qiao Ning’s schoolmate would find it too expensive and back off so she could sweep the lot.
Qiao Ning admitted frankly: “I haven’t decided the price yet. Haven’t talked to him. He said before that price was no issue.”
The landlady pursed her lips. Little Qiao’s schoolmate—still a student, right? How much could a young thing have in hand?
Qiao Ning glanced at his phone. “He’ll be here soon. Let me carry your blueberries down first.”
With that, he went upstairs to move fruit—several round trips, bringing down eight boxes for the landlady.
The landlady smiled sweetly. “Move the rest down too. Store them with me for now—you’ll have to bring them downstairs soon anyway.”
Qiao Ning: “That’s… not really appropriate, is it?”
Doing business with another customer inside a customer’s home—how did that look?
“What’s there to be embarrassed about?” the landlady said breezily. “You haven’t priced the blueberries yet, right? When he arrives, you can all discuss it together—saves you the awkwardness of bringing it up.”
Talk about looking out for him. Besides, he couldn’t exactly have that young master Lin Chengxuan haul fruit for him. Two floors saved was two floors saved.
Thanking the landlady, Qiao Ning ran back to move fruit. Of the eighteen boxes, sixteen ended up in the landlady’s living room on the third floor.
Qiao Ning had sweated through his shirt, palms rubbed red and stinging. He went to wash his hands and gave himself a little massage.
The landlady brought out snacks and drinks for him. Naturally her home had other fruit, none of it cheap—but nothing comparable to what Qiao Ning sold, so she didn’t embarrass herself by offering it.
Urged on warmly by the landlady, Qiao Ning opened a pack of biscuits. Two bites in, Lin Chengxuan messaged: already at the residential community’s gate.
The old community’s management was lax—outside cars could enter. Qiao Ning told him to drive in; downstairs was the landlady’s open-air parking spot, and he could park there.
Qiao Ning set down the biscuits and went downstairs to wait for Lin Chengxuan and point him to the spot.
The landlady carried a plate of blueberries onto the balcony, eating while peering out. When she saw that pricey luxury car pull into her parking spot, half her heart died.
Those eight boxes—she probably couldn’t keep them.
Ah well. As expected, the world didn’t lack people with good taste. Everyone wanted good things.
Before long, Qiao Ning led Lin Chengxuan up to the third floor. He introduced both sides: “This is my schoolmate. This is my landlady—she also bought a few boxes of blueberries. I’m borrowing her place to store them. Have a look first, and I’ll carry them down to your car.”
The moment Lin Chengxuan entered, a lovely blueberry fragrance reached him. Then he saw the half plate of blueberries in the landlady’s hand—each one plump and round, looking juicy just by sight.
He hadn’t expected Qiao Ning to have other customers. He greeted the landlady and went in to inspect his blueberries.
Don’t even mention the packaging. Those unremarkable cardboard boxes made Lin Chengxuan’s mouth twitch.
Everything he bought came exquisitely packaged—some boxes could pass as art pieces.
His junior schoolmate simply had no business sense. The product was excellent; if the packaging matched, prices could climb sky-high.
Then again, fair enough—if he had business sense, he wouldn’t be selling fruit that quality at a hundred eighty-eight a jin.
Unable to intercept all the blueberries, the landlady couldn’t be bothered playing villain. She offered readily: have Qiao Ning wash some blueberries for his schoolmate to taste.
This plate in her hand? Hers. She thought it wasn’t enough as it was!
Qiao Ning portioned out some blueberries, washed them, and brought them over for Lin Chengxuan to sample.
Lin Chengxuan had meant to be magnanimous—no need, I trust you—but worried the blueberries might fall short of the cherry tomatoes and disappoint his mother at home.
Besides, Qiao Ning had already brought them over. He picked up two and popped them in his mouth.
The fruit landed, teeth instinctively closed gently—and the next second, fresh sweet juice burst across his tongue.
Lin Chengxuan’s pupils dilated a full circle. His mouth kept chewing; not a single word of the prepared compliments got out.
The landlady, watching the show, munched along from her plate—her remaining half-heart thoroughly dead.
Truly no hope now. If she couldn’t afford it, fine—but with money in hand, who could taste fruit this delicious and refuse?
Qiao Ning suppressed his inner pride and asked with a smile, “Well? Delicious, right?”
Lin Chengxuan nodded rapidly. SO delicious!
The cherry tomatoes were good, but he didn’t particularly love cherry tomatoes—he’d only kept eating because they were too good to stop. Blueberries, by contrast, were a fruit he genuinely liked, and now they’d hit him right in his heart.
The best blueberries he had ever eaten. No contest!
Getting recognition again, Qiao Ning still couldn’t help being pleased, eyes crinkling into smiles. “I think so too. One bite each, just like popping boba—so satisfying.”
Lin Chengxuan savored the memory. True enough—each one crisp and tender, exactly like popping boba, almost stress-relieving to eat.
Tasting done and satisfied, Qiao Ning tried to discuss the price. “My blueberries go for…”
“Price is no issue.” Lin Chengxuan was as grand as ever. “Actually, I don’t think fifty jin is enough. Make it… make it a hundred jin.”
The landlady, spectating nearby, shot upright.
Excuse me? She’d given up intercepting his goods, and now he was eyeing HERS?
The landlady only knew that Qiao Ning had contacted Lin Chengxuan first when the blueberries came in; she didn’t know Lin Chengxuan had never asked how much Qiao Ning actually had.
“There aren’t any more,” Qiao Ning told Lin Chengxuan, just as he’d refused the landlady.
Lin Chengxuan: “None?”
His gaze darted instinctively to the boxes stacked in the living room. That was more than fifty jin, wasn’t it?
“Those are mine,” the landlady said quickly. “Already purchased.”
Qiao Ning nodded along. “Right, already sold to her. I don’t have any more at home.”
Actually there were two boxes left—one for his roommates, one to ask around with the casual customers; if it didn’t sell, blueberry jam.
Deep down, Qiao Ning harbored a secret little hope. Unsold would be nice too, honestly. He’d once had a blueberry-jam-filled bread that was delicious—if he made jam from Spirit Spring blueberries, it’d be even better.
Only belatedly did Lin Chengxuan begin to understand: when he’d placed his order, he’d asked for too little!
What kind of supplier was Qiao Ning, with this little stock—not even enough to split between two people.
Sensing the landlady’s unfriendly expression and her vigilant air of guarding her blueberries, Lin Chengxuan rubbed his nose awkwardly.
“Fifty jin is fine then. As for the price…”
Qiao Ning raised his hand. “Each box is six jin and a bit. Eight boxes is forty-eight jin—not quite fifty.”
Lin Chengxuan: “…”
Before, a jin or two short would have been nothing—fifty jin had been a generous round-up anyway, and Qiao Ning sold by the jin without overcharging him.
But now? No.
Two jin of blueberries—how many individual berries was that? He begrudged every single one.
“Throw in a bit more, Senior Schoolmate.” Lin Chengxuan’s voice went soft. “I already promised my mom—definitely fifty jin. Short on the count, I’ve got nothing to show for it. I can’t answer to her.”
