Apocalypse: My Sweetie Is Tough but Cute

"Ouch, the boss is happy," he said repeatedly, "What's the issue of convenience or not? I can give you a fair price for these grains and groceries. If you're sincere in buying, what's there to say? I run an open shop with absolutely fair prices."

The shop owner cheerfully picked up his little account book to jot down the sale of a thousand kilograms of goods and warmly invited Su Shu in, making room for a young errand boy who had just returned from delivery to pour her a cup of hot tea in a paper cup.

"Come on, have some tea. It's cold early in the morning, and it's only a paper cup, don't mind."

As Su Shu sipped the hot tea and specially reheated milk brought over, she looked at the shop owner's chubby face and keen eyes, voicing the question that was in her heart.

"Boss, I see that you also sell the same polished rice as other stores, so why is this so much more expensive? With such good stuff sitting here, how can the rice on that side sell?" she asked, pointing to the right.

It wasn't that the rice on that side was bad—she had looked closely, and its quality was similar to the good rice from other shops, and the price was also comparable. But it's always like that; if you place a good product on its own, it stands out. However, if you place it next to an even better one, the difference becomes evident—a comparison renders the lesser one unable to discount their price, and the better one becomes too expensive, leaving people hesitating to buy.

On hearing this, the boss let out a bitter laugh, "You're pretty observant, little girl, to notice such things; I won't hide the truth from you. My little shop used to do quite well, but ever since this Lake Rice started selling here, I'd say business has dropped by almost half, if not more. You see, the rice is good, but sadly, there's no market for it."

Su Shu, sipping her hot tea, looked at the so-called Lake Rice and disagreed.

"Economic conditions have improved now; people have money. Fake rice is mixed into the market, and the common folks can't tell them apart. If your Lake Rice is good, why not target the high-end market? Then you'd have a market."

"Not so easy," the boss said truthfully. "You could wander around this whole market, and if you can find rice like mine, I'd give it to you. To target the high-end market, you need scale and distribution channels. This Lake Rice comes from my mother-in-law's village; nestled by mountains and water, in the past the villagers grew crops just to feed the family for a year. You get that kind on the right—selling it just about scrapes together enough for food and drink for the year, and there's no hope for more. The village isn't wealthy either."

Su Shu listened with interest. The boss probably didn't have much business early in the morning, plus a pretty, pretty young lady sitting across from him, with an even smaller and cuter one in her arms, so he felt inclined to chat.

"When I went down to the countryside, there was an accident near that village. If it weren't for my wife, I would have lost my life there. After we got married, my wife came to the city to help manage the business. Over the years we've accumulated some assets, but since the villagers from my wife's village started planting this Lake Rice a few years ago, my business has...sigh!"

The boss sighed deeply, the look on his face speaking volumes.

"What happened?"

"That village is by the mountains and the water, right? I heard, they say that one night, amidst thunder and lightning, a huge bolt struck down and woke up everyone in the whole village. The next morning when they got up, they discovered a spring had suddenly appeared in the mountain behind Lake Village. Those who drank it said the water was especially sweet. We haven't tasted it, so how would we know, right?" he said.

Su Shu: "Hmm."

The boss continued, "After that, some knowledgeable folks in the village—you know, in those rural places, there are always a few peculiar characters within a hundred miles."

"I know."