047 The First Pre-Order

“Oh dear, miss, this is the finest processed rehmannia root we have here, and it works wonders.”
It was Chen Anquan’s first time doing business, and before he could react, the uncle from the neighboring stall had already seized the opportunity.
He wasn’t annoyed; he simply watched how the uncle conducted his trade.
The woman rubbed the dark, sweet-potato-like rehmannia root inside the plastic bag with her fingers. “Uncle, is this rehmannia really processed nine times by steaming and drying?”
The uncle grinned, glancing at Chen Anquan, who was watching like a spectator, his face instantly lighting up with pride.
His expression seemed to say to Chen Anquan: See? That’s how you do business!
“Miss, this is indeed rehmannia root processed nine times.”
“Really? Don’t fool me. I’ve asked at quite a few places, and everyone claims theirs is the nine-times processed rehmannia.”
The uncle was momentarily stunned; clearly, he hadn’t expected to encounter someone specializing in buying rehmannia root. He gritted his teeth and, almost pedantically, declared, “Miss, it’s absolutely true! Nowadays, most merchants cut corners to save costs—they only process it three times at most.”
He deliberately showed three fingers as he spoke.
The woman nodded, put down the rehmannia she was holding, and picked up another piece to examine it. “Really? You’re not lying?”
The uncle, feeling a bit guilty and irritated by her questioning, raised his voice, “Miss, rest assured, I guarantee it! You can have it appraised, and if I’m lying, bring it back and I’ll refund every penny.”
She nodded. With such assurance, she had no choice but to believe him.
Chen Anquan watched the whole scene unfold.
No matter how many times the uncle claimed that his rehmannia root was processed nine times, Chen Anquan wouldn’t believe it.
Never mind the texture—the process of steaming and drying rehmannia nine times requires tremendous patience and cost; most people wouldn’t bother.
Each step is tedious. Every steaming takes nearly a day, followed by several days of drying in the shade. Without at least a month’s work, it’s impossible to produce authentic nine-times processed rehmannia root.
Yet the wholesale price for rehmannia root was only thirty yuan per kilogram, just a few yuan more than raw root. How could anyone afford to process it nine times?
“How much is this? Can you give me a discount? I’ll take it all!”

The uncle was taken aback, then burst into joy. “No problem, no problem! Since you’re taking it all, I’ll sell you everything. I usually sell it for sixty yuan per jin, but I’ll give you a discount—fifty yuan per jin.”
Sixty yuan a jin, which equates to one hundred and twenty yuan per kilogram.
At that price, one could buy the rarest rehmannia root—but was the uncle’s product really worth it?
“Forget it,” Chen Anquan decided not to meddle; less trouble was better.
But as he was about to look away, he inadvertently caught sight of the woman’s full chest, particularly as she stood up and patted her sides, the two little watermelons bouncing lightly with elasticity. He recalled the beautiful reporter he’d seen recently…
“Are you Zhao Xuan?”
The uncle: “???”
The woman: “???”
She looked surprised, puzzled at Chen Anquan. “Handsome, do I know you?”
Taken aback by Chen Anquan’s abruptness, she neither admitted nor denied, but countered, “And you are?”
“I’m Chen Anquan. Do you remember?”
She repeated his name, “Chen Anquan? Doesn’t ring a bell.”
He wasn’t discouraged, since he wasn’t the kind of man whose face people remembered after one meeting. “I saw the meteor shower at Ao Bei Village and posted it online. You came to interview me then.”
“Ah!” The woman clearly recalled the incident at Ao Bei Village. Her mouth fell open, “Chen Anquan, you’re selling herbal medicine here too?”
“Yes. I started my own business. These herbs are all dug up by me personally.”
Zhao Xuan self-consciously smoothed her bun with slender fingers.
Clearly, Chen Anquan’s sudden approach had caught her off guard.
Having only met him once, and barely exchanged a few words, Zhao Xuan remained somewhat wary.
She withdrew her gaze to the rehmannia root she’d chosen. “Boss, weigh it, please.”
“Wait,” Chen Anquan spoke up.

Both the uncle and Zhao Xuan looked at him. Chen Anquan reached out and took a lump of dark rehmannia root from his stall. “Zhao Xuan, this is the rehmannia I processed. Look how black it is.”
Zhao Xuan stepped over, took the root from his hand. “It’s so black!”
“That’s right. Authentic processed rehmannia is always this black.”
Having recently touched the uncle’s root, she found the difference stark—the two didn’t even seem like the same herb. “It’s as black as wood ear mushrooms and even a bit glossy!”
“Zhao Xuan, I’ll tell you, mine was only processed four times.”
The implication was clear; the rest was for Zhao Xuan to judge.
The uncle hadn’t expected Chen Anquan to know Zhao Xuan. He glared at Chen Anquan, furious. “Kid, don’t steal my business! My rehmannia is truly processed nine times—I’m not lying! Yours must be dyed; otherwise, it wouldn’t be so black!”
Zhao Xuan hesitated, torn between Chen Anquan and the uncle. In the end, she nodded to Chen Anquan, “Chen Anquan, do you know where I can buy rehmannia processed nine times?”
He smiled, “It’s difficult, but if you really want it, I can make some for you. But the price might be higher.”
“Price is negotiable. How long will it take?”
“Half a month. Can you wait?”
“No problem!” Zhao Xuan took out her phone and opened her messaging app. “Here’s my QR code. Let’s add each other.”
“All right. When it’s ready, I’ll let you know right away.”
“Thank you, then. I’ll leave for now.” Zhao Xuan stood, gave Chen Anquan a faint smile, and quietly walked away.
Two minutes after Zhao Xuan left, the uncle—whose face had darkened and anger was boiling over—could no longer contain himself. He stood, marched over to Chen Anquan, rolling up his sleeves, and gripped the red cloth at the front of Chen Anquan’s stall.
“Uncle, what are you doing?” As the uncle began to exert force, about to overturn the stall, two strong arms seized his wrists. “Are you trying to cause trouble?”
The uncle’s face was cold, his gaze at Chen Anquan like that of an enemy. “Kid, you’re not being fair! You stole my customer. Tell me, how can I not be angry?”
“Uncle, you were unfair first! That beautiful woman is someone I know—I couldn’t stand watching you deceive her!”