Bai Lu got scammed, but I became a superstar through e-commerce.

At 2 PM, Qingxiao locked the door and rode his electric bike to Sijiqing.

He parked his car outside the north gate of Sijiqing Park, locked it, and went inside carrying a plastic bag.

The plastic bag contained fruit, which he had deliberately taken a detour to buy from a fruit shop: apples, oranges, grapes, and strawberries—all the most expensive ones.

Shuya Clothing is located on the second floor of Sijiqing Department Store, at the corner.

The stall isn't big, but it's in a good location with a lot of foot traffic.

The owner is a woman in her early thirties, surnamed Shu, named Shuya. The stall is named after her own name.

Qingxiao started getting goods from her three months ago.

At that time, he had just opened his shop and had no resources. He rode his electric bike from shop to shop in Sijiqing.

Shuya sat inside the stall, legs crossed, a thin cigarette between her fingers. She looked him up and down and said, "Newly opened?"

"Um."

"How much?"

"Take a few samples first."

She stubbed out her cigarette, stood up, and took a few new items from the shelf, handing them to him.

I didn't ask for cash; I told him I'd settle the payment after I sold everything.

Later, Qingxiao learned that one of the reasons Shuya was so agreeable was because he was good-looking.

This is not because he is narcissistic.

Bai Lu often jokes, "It's a shame you're not a star with that face."

His features are somewhat aloof, with deep-set eyes, a high nose bridge, and well-defined contours.

He's perfectly qualified to be a model, but he's never even considered it.

Shuya was indeed exceptionally polite to him because of this.

Qingxiao knew it all.

Shuya was wearing a black knitted dress, her hair was tied up, revealing a section of her fair neck.

The woman in her early thirties is very well-maintained; her skin is firm and there isn't a single wrinkle around her eyes.

She wore a dusty rose lipstick, not too bright, but it gave her a healthy glow.

Seeing Qingxiao, she put down her magazine, a smile curving her lips: "Why are you here at this hour? Don't you usually come in the morning to grab the goods?"

"Sister Shu," Qingxiao said, placing the plastic bag on the table, "I brought you some fruit."

Shuya glanced at the contents of the bag and raised an eyebrow slightly: "Strawberries? Strawberries aren't cheap this season."

"I bought this especially for you."

Shuya leaned back in her chair, her hands folded on her knees, looking at him. Her eyes were the kind with deep double eyelids, and she looked at people with a lazy smile, as if she were appraising something interesting.

"Qingxiao, is something wrong today?"

"Can't I buy fruit for Sister Shu for no reason?"

"Yes," Shuya smiled, "of course. It's just that you're usually so frugal that you wouldn't even take an extra packaging bag, so it seems a bit odd that you're suddenly buying such expensive fruit."

Qingxiao did not deny it and pulled out a chair to sit down.

"Sister Shu, I recently made a payment."

"That burgundy sweater?"

How did you know?

Shuya picked up her Americano and took a sip, saying casually, "Last time you took twenty samples from me, and the burgundy one was the most popular. I guessed it was this one."

Qingxiao mentally gave her a thumbs up. After all these years in Sijiqing, her eyes are indeed sharp.

"I've tested it," he said. "The data is very good."

Shuya raised an eyebrow again: "Are you sure?"

"Data just came out from the Express Train run."

Shuya put down her coffee cup and leaned forward slightly. The scent of her perfume wafted over, matching her overall demeanor.

"Qingxiao, tell me the truth," she said, her tone becoming serious, "how big are you planning to go for this?"

"Give it as big as it can."

Shuya looked at him for a few seconds, then she smiled.

"You little rascal," she shook her head, "three months ago you were still buying samples from me on credit, and now you're trying to create a blockbuster."

"That's why I came to find Sister Shu."

"Speak, what do you want?"

Qingxiao rested his hands on his knees and looked at her intently.

"I want payment terms."

Shuya didn't answer immediately. She picked up her coffee, took another sip, and looked at him, as if waiting for him to continue.

"Google Ads costs money, advertising costs money, keyword bidding costs money," Qingxiao said. "I have to invest all the money I have to get orders. But even after the orders come in, I still need money to buy the goods. If I can't afford to buy the goods, I can't ship any more orders."

"So you've come to me asking for credit?"

"It's not credit," Qingxiao said, "it's payment terms. I get the same amount of goods as what I sell, and it's settled monthly."

Shuya didn't speak. She lowered her head and gently tapped the side of her coffee cup with her fingers.

Qingxiao didn't urge her. He knew she was calculating.

About half a minute later, Shuya raised her head.

"Qingxiao, little brother," she looked at him, a smile curving her lips, "do you know why I gave you credit in the first place?"

Qingxiao shook his head.

"Because when you first came here, there was a fierce look in your eyes," Shuya said.

She paused for a moment.

"And you're good-looking."

She spoke softly, her eyes holding a faint warmth.

"So, I'll help you."

Qingxiao opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Shuya waved her hand.

"Don't thank me," she said. "If you really want to thank me, then bombard this place with calls and calls until my stall becomes famous along with you."

Shuya stood up, walked to the shelf, and took out all the remaining stock of that burgundy batwing-sleeved sweater.

Fold each item neatly and put them into a woven bag.

She moved quickly and decisively, completely unlike her usual leisurely manner.

After loading the goods, she placed the woven bag at his feet.

"Take it and sell it. Come back when you're done."

Qingxiao stood up and picked up the woven bag. It was quite heavy, containing more than fifty items.

"Sister Shu."

Shuya looked at him.

"Once this style becomes a hit," Qingxiao said, "I'll clear out the entire stock in your stall for you."

Shuya paused for a moment, then laughed. This time it was a genuine laugh, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Okay," she said, "I'll wait for you, sis."

Qingxiao carried the woven bag out of the stall and into the flow of people coming and going in the Sijiqing corridor.

People pushing carts carrying goods, people carrying woven bags to pick up goods, and stall owners talking loudly on the phone.

The afternoons at Sijiqing are always like this: noisy, busy, and never-ending.

Behind her, Shuya leaned against the door frame of the stall, watching his figure disappear around the corner of the corridor.

Outside the corridor, Qingxiao tied the woven bag to the back seat of the electric scooter, wrapped it with rubber bands several times to make sure it wouldn't fall off, then got on and started the scooter.

A breeze blew in my face; in late September, Hangzhou was bathed in clear skies and gentle breezes.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.

It was a message from Bai Lu.

"I've finished taking photos for today's orders. I'll come find you tonight. Will you be at the shop?"

Qingxiao held the handlebars with one hand and typed with the other.

"exist."

Send. Then he added another message.

"You won't need to take so many orders soon."

Bai Lu replied with a question mark instantly.

"What do you mean?"

Qingxiao looked at the screen, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. After thinking for a moment, he typed a line.

"My product is about to become a hit."

After sending the message, he put his phone back in his pocket, twisted the throttle, and the electric scooter, carrying dozens of pieces of clothing, headed towards Jiubao.