North Family Letters

After three months of peaceful life back home, Qiuju's adventurous spirit never faded.

She knew that the small stall at the village entrance could only make a living; the real source of goods and the real opportunities lay in Guangzhou—the place where she first left home and learned to do business. The snowstorms of Northeast China, the markets of Shenyang, and the stalls of Harbin couldn't compare to the bustling energy and abundance of goods in Guangzhou. Her second sister, Xia He, understood this perfectly and simply advised her: "We won't be greedy for quick money, we won't touch secret recipes, we won't fall into traps, we'll only do business that we can see and touch." Qiu Ju nodded vigorously: "Sister, I remember."

Once again boarding the train heading south, Qiu Ju had shed her youthful naiveté and gained composure and maturity. She was no longer the young girl whose heart would race at the mere mention of "guaranteed profits," but rather, she returned to where her dreams began, carrying lessons learned and a newfound perspective.

Stepping into the streets and alleys of Guangzhou, the familiar hustle and bustle hits you. The loudspeakers of clothing stalls, the shouts of vendors in the wholesale market, the jingling of tricycles—everything is the same as before, yet different.

Qiuju didn't rush to resell clothes and watches. She followed her familiar route, walking from the thirteenth alley to the wholesale street of daily necessities at the end, observing, noting, and pondering along the way. Clothes and watches had long been oversaturated; competitors were scrambling to get their hands on them, prices were driven to rock bottom, profits were as thin as paper, and she was frequently caught, robbed, and had her payments withheld. Standing in the crowded clothing market, she gently shook her head—this path was no longer viable.

She stopped abruptly as she turned into an alleyway filled with daily chemical products, cleaning supplies, and small general merchandise wholesalers.

The alley was bustling with people. Each stall was piled high with dish soap, laundry detergent, toilet cleaner, and regular soap. A faint smell of perfume and chemicals filled the air. Vendors came and went, picking up their goods. The sounds of boxes being loaded onto tricycles and the haggling of bargaining mingled together, creating a warm and down-to-earth atmosphere. Qiu Ju squatted at the alley entrance for a while, and suddenly it dawned on her: these daily necessities were a necessity for every household. They were consumed quickly, and the returns were fast. There was no risk of stockpiling inventory like with seasonal clothing sales, and no fear of confiscation. It was far more stable than those popular businesses.

She calmed herself down and spent three whole days in the alley, taking notes from door to door, noting down the wholesale prices, quantities, and payment cycles for various goods. She chatted with the vendors, asking about their best-selling items and the after-sales service that the shopkeepers cared about most. Just when she was about to finalize a legitimate source of finished goods, that middle-aged man surnamed Zhou came up to her again. He had been doing raw material wholesale business at the alley entrance for several years. He was a complete stranger, but he kept calling her a fellow villager, his enthusiasm making her feel uneasy.

"Girl, I see you're an honest person, so I'm showing you a sure way to make money!" Boss Zhou pulled her to a quiet spot, mysteriously pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, and laid out several sample bottles. "See this? My exclusive, secret recipe for dishwashing liquid and laundry detergent. I bought it from a master technician at a high price. The cost is 60% lower than the market price, its cleaning power is stronger than name brands, and it can even be mixed with various fragrances. No one else can imitate it! You spend two thousand yuan to buy this secret recipe, find a quiet corner to mix it yourself, and you won't have to worry about suppliers. The amount you make in a day is enough to distribute your products across half of Guangzhou. In less than six months, you'll definitely have made a fortune!"

Two thousand yuan was almost all of Qiuju's capital for this trip to Guangzhou. Staring at the thin sheet of paper with the secret recipe, her heart pounded. Low cost, high profit—this temptation was like a hook, relentlessly pulling at her heart. Seeing her wavering, Boss Zhou pressed his advantage, taking her to see the production scene in the small workshop next door. Several workers were stirring around large vats; the finished product, after being bottled, looked no different from the goods on the market. Merchants lined up to pay, and he patted his chest, guaranteeing that he would teach her everything, provide access to raw materials, and that there was absolutely no risk.

Qiuju's hands clenched until they turned white, her second sister's admonitions echoing in her ears: "Don't be greedy for quick money, don't touch secret recipes, don't fall into traps." She suddenly realized that there's no such thing as a free lunch. If there really was such a sure-fire way to make money, why would he be peddling it everywhere? Wouldn't it be better for him to make his own fortune in silence? She gritted her teeth and firmly refused: "Boss Zhou, thank you for your kindness, but I just want to do some honest finished product business. I won't touch these things."

These words thoroughly enraged Boss Zhou. His smile vanished instantly, replaced by a frighteningly sinister expression: "You think you're so great? In this alley, selling daily necessities, you won't gain a foothold without buying my secret formula!"

From that day on, Qiuju's life became extremely difficult. This was blatant suppression from her competitors. Boss Zhou had been operating in this alley for many years and had long since cultivated a group of regular customers and suppliers. He spread rumors everywhere, saying that Qiuju was a swindler from out of town who sold substandard and counterfeit goods. He even went around telling the familiar stall owners that if anyone dared to supply Qiuju, he would cut off their raw material supply and never cooperate with them again.

Qiu Ju ran all over the wholesale alley, but the stalls she had asked in the past either locked their doors and avoided her or directly raised their wholesale prices. The dish soap that was originally 3.5 yuan a bottle was now asking for 5 yuan, and they were indifferent, saying, "Take it or leave, we have no stock for you." Clutching her half-empty wallet, she stood in the crowded alley, watching the vendors making transactions, feeling both bitter and resentful. The confidence she had when she first came to Guangzhou had been worn away by this malicious exclusion.

After much difficulty, she finally found a small stall that was unwilling to get involved in the disputes. The boss was kind-hearted and supplied her with the first batch of goods at the normal price. Qiuju carried the heavy samples and began to run around to urban villages and street-side grocery stores to stock up. However, the customers' difficulties were more unbearable than the exclusion from her peers.

At that time, Guangzhou's wholesale markets were a chaotic mix of good and bad. Many vendors had been ripped off by itinerant salesmen, receiving poor-quality goods that wouldn't sell. When they wanted to exchange the goods, they couldn't find the salesmen. Over time, they became wary of these salesmen. The first grocery store Qiu Ju knocked on the door of was run by a middle-aged man with a menacing face. Without even looking at her goods, he waved her away, saying, "Go away! Don't try to fool people here. Last time, the dish soap I got was so diluted it was like water. I asked one of your colleagues to exchange it, but they'd vanished long ago. You salesmen are all the same!"

Qiuju patiently explained, took out the product certification to show the other party, and even opened the dish soap on the spot to wipe the oil stains on the counter, demonstrating the effect again and again. But the boss didn't listen at all, grabbed her sample and threw it out the door. The glass bottle smashed on the ground and broke into pieces. The dish soap was spilled all over the floor, and the pungent smell made people's eyes sting.

Some shop owners, seemingly amiable, immediately slashed their prices below cost after hearing her quote, demanding three months' credit until the goods were sold, and even insisting on dozens of free samples, threatening not to stock her otherwise. "There are plenty of people selling daily necessities now. If you don't want to, plenty of others will supply me," one shop owner said dismissively, legs crossed. "You're a woman from out of town, trying to do business in Guangzhou. You don't even have the sincerity to back it up?"

What's even more outrageous is that several small shops had already been taken care of by Boss Zhou. As soon as Qiuju entered, the shop owner sneered and said, "Boss Zhou said that if you dare to stock your goods, he will cut off my low-priced goods and make it impossible for me to do business on this street. Don't waste your time."

During that period, Qiuju would leave home before dawn every day, returning to her rented room under the starlight. The blisters on her feet would burst and grow back, and her shoulders would bear deep red marks from the sample bags. Her voice would become hoarse from constant sales pitches. She was scolded and driven away by customers, schemed against and ostracized by her peers. Countless times, she stood in unfamiliar streets and alleys, watching the bustling traffic of Guangzhou, feeling so wronged that she wanted to cry. She even thought about packing her bags and returning to her hometown, never to venture out again.

But whenever she wanted to give up, she would pull out the note her second sister had written in her pocket, look at the word "steady," and grit her teeth to persevere. She never touched that so-called secret recipe, even when Boss Zhou later lowered the price to a thousand yuan and even said she could take the goods first and pay later, she still wouldn't budge. She knew that the thin piece of paper, which looked like a shortcut to wealth, was actually a money-devouring trap. Once she stepped into it, she would only end up losing both her money and her life, repeating the mistakes of the past.

She moved to more remote streets and alleys, seeking out small family-run shops and convenience stores. She patiently negotiated with the shop owners, winning them over with her sincerity. She promised a full refund if the quality was poor, an exchange if the goods didn't sell, and never delayed after-sales service. Her goods were of high quality, reasonably priced, and she never shortchanged customers. Gradually, some shop owners were willing to try ordering a small amount, and later returned to buy from her again, even recommending her to other shops in the area.

From selling just a few bottles a day to later shipping out entire cases, Qiuju's business finally got on track. Looking at her ledger, she saw that every penny was earned through hard work and honesty, without a trace of pretense. Meanwhile, the Zhou boss who peddled the secret recipe was soon reported for selling inferior ingredients and cheating people out of the recipe's value. His stall was shut down, and he disappeared completely from the alley. The so-called exclusive recipe ultimately became a joke that no one would ever mention again.

Standing before her small pile of goods, gazing at the bustling streets of Guangzhou, Qiu Ju finally understood. The so-called secret recipe was nothing more than a cage woven from greed; it seemed to offer instant success, but in reality, it would only lead to utter destruction. Guangzhou has no myths of overnight riches; all opportunities lie hidden in hard work and honesty. That secret recipe scandal ultimately came to nothing, but it allowed her to establish a firm foothold in this city and safeguard the most precious principles in her heart.