Chapter 41: The Pigeon Market of South Luogu Alley

“Oh, it’s you! You should have said so earlier. Old Man Yi mentioned you. Go on home, and later you can get to know all the neighbors in the courtyard,” Auntie Tian Guixiang said, lifting the curtain and returning to her house.

The other residents, who had been secretly peeking and eavesdropping behind their own curtains, relaxed after seeing this. One by one, they went back to bed to continue resting.

Xiao Weiguo, unaware of any of this, pushed his bicycle and walked straight home, planning out his schedule for the next day. After all, the holiday was only two days long, with just one day left, and he definitely had to make a trip back to the village. He decided to buy some gifts in the morning and then return home.

After all, what is the point of wearing fine clothes if you don’t return home in them? It would be like walking in brocade at night—splendid but unseen.

The only problem was, he was almost out of money. He had spent everything today on various purchases.

Xiao Weiguo decided to go to bed early and get up at dawn to see if there was a pigeon market nearby where he could exchange some things for money. His stores of grain had just been harvested again, and more importantly, he had several rounds of chickens and rabbits ready—piled up like twin mountains of meat.

He planned to take care of all that tomorrow, then return home in style, bringing glory to his family name.

Returning to his little nest, although it was small, it felt extremely cozy. Still, there were many things missing—he hadn’t even bought coal briquettes, so he couldn't cook. That would have to wait until his next trip back.

Now, he finally had a moment to check the supplies he’d been given by Quan Linglan’s family. He found two cans of preserved yellow peaches, a bag of brown sugar, a can of malted milk, and, to his surprise, two cans of beef.

Looking at this pile of goods, which were extremely precious in this day and age, Xiao Weiguo was amazed. Each item was not only expensive but also nearly impossible to buy, no matter how much you were willing to pay.

Now he had gifts to bring back for his grandparents. After a quick wash, he lay down on his bed and soon fell into a deep sleep.

At dawn the next day, Xiao Weiguo woke with a start. Glancing outside, he had no idea what time it was. He hurriedly dressed in his old, ragged clothes, grabbed a headscarf to wrap around his head later, and quietly prepared to slip out of the courtyard.

He found the main gate tightly shut and had no choice but to climb over the wall. Using his mind’s focus, he grabbed the top of the wall and vaulted up, then slid down the other side.

After a quick look around, he set off in the distance, planning to observe the movements of people heading to the black market to figure out its location.

Just then, he saw a bespectacled middle-aged man in the courtyard opposite, glancing around furtively before jogging off in a particular direction.

Peering closely, Xiao Weiguo recognized him—what a coincidence—it was Third Grandpa Yan Bugui from Courtyard Number 95 across the way.

In the original story, Third Grandpa was known for his shrewdness, always saying, “Eating won’t make you poor, wearing clothes won’t make you poor, but failing to calculate will.”

So it turned out Third Grandpa was sneaking off to the black market at this hour.

Now that Xiao Weiguo knew the black market’s location, he quietly followed behind, moving slowly.

They arrived at a secluded alleyway. Third Grandpa Yan muttered a few words to someone before heading inside.

Xiao Weiguo wrapped his head in the scarf, took a few bags from his space—one with a chicken, one with a rabbit, and others with various grains—then headed for the alley’s entrance.

“Buying or selling? One dime for either,” a voice called from the shadows.

“I’m selling and buying,” Xiao Weiguo replied.

“One dime. Put your money on the table and go in,” the shadowy voice said.

Only then did Xiao Weiguo notice a long table to the left. He placed his coin on it and went inside.

This was different from the town market—no receipt was given, just a one-time entry fee, and only one trip allowed. He made a mental note to be careful.

Asking whether you were buying or selling was likely a way for the black market managers to roughly track the market’s needs and adjust their strategy—if there were more buyers than sellers, they’d find ways to release more stock or attract sellers from other markets; if there were more sellers, they’d try to draw in more buyers.

Inside the alley, he saw Third Grandpa Yan squatting on the ground, a mat laid out before him with a jumble of goods and a sign reading “Fine grain for coarse grain.”

Ignoring Third Grandpa, Xiao Weiguo moved further in. Compared to the town’s market, this place was much busier, with a lively but orderly chaos that had a strange sort of beauty.

He focused on the prices for the things he wanted to sell—chickens, rabbits, grain—and the prices of the goods he wished to buy.

After surveying everything, Xiao Weiguo found a vacant spot, spread out his mat, and began setting up shop.

He arranged one chicken, one rabbit, and various grains on the mat, waiting for customers.

He’d also thought of a good way to sell the chickens and rabbits.

Soon, a burly man approached him and asked, “Comrade, is this whole chicken fresh? When was it slaughtered, and how much?”

“Just this afternoon. See the bag behind me? Regardless of size, two yuan each. It’s luck of the draw—if you pick a big one, that’s my loss; if you get a smaller one, you still get your money’s worth. At the market, a five- or six-pound chicken would cost nearly three yuan,” Xiao Weiguo explained.

“That’s great. I’ll give it a try. How about the rabbit? Same deal? Rabbits aren’t worth that much,” the man continued.

“Same for the rabbit—one yuan fifty each, also luck of the draw,” Xiao Weiguo replied.

“I’ll take one chicken and one rabbit,” the man said, handing him three yuan fifty. The man reached into the bag, rummaged around, and pulled out an especially plump chicken, then gleefully went for a rabbit and came out with a fat one as well.

“Heh heh, I got a good deal! I’ll spread the word for you,” the man said cheerfully, then turned and headed deeper into the alley, apparently to make good on his promise and help Xiao Weiguo with some free advertising.

Xiao Weiguo waited for more customers. For the grain, he followed the town’s practice: discounts for bulk purchases.

Before long, several middle-aged men surrounded his stall, asking if he was really selling chickens and rabbits this way.

Among them, Xiao Weiguo spotted Third Grandpa again, which he found rather amusing.

“Yes, whole chickens for two yuan, whole rabbits for one and a half—no matter the size, once you reach in, there’s no changing your mind,” Xiao Weiguo explained.

“Don’t worry about running out. I’ve got plenty more outside. Once these are sold, I’ll bring in a new batch right away,” he added.

As for the rabbits being cheaper than the chickens, it was due to rabbit meat’s particular qualities. Unlike other meats, which are fattening, rabbit meat actually helps with weight loss, so it wasn’t especially popular in those days.

After Xiao Weiguo’s explanation, the crowd eagerly rushed to be first, afraid someone else would claim the fattest chickens and rabbits before them.

When everyone had finished buying and left happily, Third Grandpa finally sidled up, a little embarrassed. “Comrade, I see you don’t have much meat left in the bag. Could you restock? I’d like to buy some more.”