Breaking the Rules

"Wait a moment before you shout; let this wave of tourists pass before speaking..." Just as the portly man was about to press on, Fang Yi intervened to halt him.

The reason so many items had sold earlier was that a tour group of fifty or sixty had flooded into the market. They had yet to leave, and shouting now would likely be ineffective; it would be better to wait for the next group to arrive.

"How did you notice that?" Upon hearing Fang Yi's words, the portly man and San Pao began to discern the signs; indeed, those who had just purchased the beads were all wearing identical hats emblazoned with the name of the XX Travel Agency.

"Just pay more attention," Fang Yi replied nonchalantly, though it nearly made the portly man and San Pao choke on their frustration. However, they understood that some skills cannot simply be learned; like the art of knot tying, they could only watch as Fang Yi demonstrated.

While Fang Yi and his companions were engaged in conversation, no one noticed that Old Ma at a nearby stall had been pulled away by a group of people, who encircled him in a corner, gesturing animatedly as they spoke.

After nearly an hour had passed and the hats of the travel agency were no longer in sight, the portly man prepared to shout again. The previous call had generated over twenty sales, and he was more than willing to shout until his voice was hoarse.

"Hold on, Fatty, don't shout just yet; I have something to discuss with you all..." Just as the portly man was ready to unleash his vocal prowess, Old Ma returned from the corner and grabbed his arm.

"What's the matter, Brother Ma?" The portly man queried, puzzled. "Just wait a moment; another tour group has arrived, and I need to call them over..."

"This is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about; just wait a moment..." Old Ma insisted, pulling the portly man behind the stall.

"Fang Yi, Fatty, San Pao, you all need to listen to me..." Seeing Fang Yi and San Pao looking at him with confusion, Old Ma sighed and said, "Someone just called me over and said that you three have disrupted the market's rules..."

"Disrupted the rules? What rules have we broken?" 

At Old Ma's statement, the portly man's temper flared. "Are they envious of our profits? Is there a rule against selling in the market? No one has stopped them from shouting; we are all relying on our own skills—how have we broken any rules?"

While he may not possess Fang Yi's sharp intuition, the portly man and San Pao were not foolish. They could read Old Ma's troubled expression and understood what had transpired.

"Fatty is right; if anyone has a problem, let them come speak to us directly. Damn it, do they really think we are pushovers?" 

A glint of danger flashed in San Pao's eyes. Those who had struggled to find a way to earn a living would fiercely protect their newfound income; if anyone dared to obstruct their path, San Pao would not hesitate to retaliate.

"Hey, I urge you two not to be impulsive; they want me to discuss this with you, after all," Old Ma quickly interjected as he saw the portly man and San Pao gearing up for a confrontation. He knew that the actions of those individuals had been rather unscrupulous.

Business is inherently competitive, and as long as no one is stealing customers from your stall, no one can rightfully complain. However, with seventy or eighty stalls in the antique market, it was clear that the twenty or so stalls selling cultural artifacts had been overshadowed by the portly man and his friends' aggressive purchasing.

Had it not been for the fact that many knew about Fang Yi and his friends apprehending a thief just days earlier, leading to the arrest of the antique director, those individuals might have confronted them directly rather than sending Old Ma to deliver a message.

"Old Ma, what exactly do they want?" Fang Yi finally spoke up. He had no desire to attract public ire, as he preferred not to cultivate too many enemies in the antique market.

However, if those individuals were clearly trying to bully his friends, Fang Yi had no intention of backing down. Even if he had to escalate the matter to Deputy Director Zhao, he was prepared to stand firm; he wanted to see who would ultimately suffer.

"They want you to refrain from using shouting as a sales tactic for the beads. As a gesture of goodwill, they're hosting a dinner tonight to apologize..." Old Ma relayed the words of those individuals, knowing that in this market, everyone had to coexist.

Their rationale was that they operated their stalls alone and couldn't afford to shout like Fang Yi and his friends, so in the interest of fairness, while they could sell their items, they should refrain from shouting.

"A dinner is all it takes to placate us? Besides, I never shouted in front of their stalls..." the portly man retorted, his irritation palpable. "They're just envious and want to cut off our livelihood; isn't that a bit too petty?"

His voice rose slightly, and several nearby vendors selling cultural artifacts glanced over, their expressions shifting uncomfortably. However, they were also among those who had seen Old Sun come by, and although they were frustrated, they held back their anger.

"Fatty, just hold your tongue..." 

Fang Yi interjected, raising his hand to silence the portly man. "Brother Ma, please convey a message: we agree to their terms. We will refrain from shouting when selling, and we will attend their dinner tonight. However, let them know that we have connections, and this matter ends here. If they persist in their arrogance, we will not be so forgiving..."

Though they had made a considerable profit through their shouting, Fang Yi understood that if he did not agree to those individuals' demands, soon the market would be filled with shouting, transforming the culturally rich antique market into a chaotic marketplace—a dissonance he wished to avoid, knowing that the management might intervene.

Moreover, Fang Yi believed that their current stall business did not guarantee their future presence in the market. He envisioned that within a year, his group would at least have a proper stall, and squabbling with these individuals would only lower their standing.

"Alright, Fang Yi, you're magnanimous!" Old Ma sighed in relief upon hearing Fang Yi's words. He valued his relationship with Fang Yi and did not want to see them ostracized in the antique market.

"Why should we let this slide?" After Old Ma turned to relay the message, the portly man began to protest loudly. Had Fang Yi not given him a warning glance, he would have stopped Old Ma from leaving.

"Exactly, Fang Yi, whether through words or strength, we're not afraid of them!" San Pao added, equally bewildered. He and the portly man could easily take on seven or eight individuals, and with Fang Yi, they wouldn't shy away from a group of twenty.

"San Pao, do you plan to run a stall here for the rest of your life, or do you aspire to open a shop like Man Ge?" Fang Yi asked, noticing San Pao's puzzled expression.

"Of course, I want to open a shop..." San Pao replied without hesitation.

"Then will you be shouting when you run your shop? Have you ever seen Man Ge do that?"

Fang Yi's words left San Pao and the portly man speechless. The antique shops in this market typically did not rely on casual foot traffic; the profits from a single sale could easily sustain San Pao's shouting for half a year.

"The antique market needs an atmosphere and environment; shouting like this is indeed inappropriate..." 

Once Fang Yi expressed his thoughts, the portly man and San Pao found their anger dissipating significantly. They could envision that escalating the situation would yield no benefits and would only create numerous enemies.

"Honestly, if we're the only ones shouting, it wouldn't make much of a difference; it just gives these fools an advantage..." 

The portly man still felt a bit disgruntled. Fang Yi's promotional idea had allowed them to surpass their weekend earnings in just one hour, and the thought of lost profits left him feeling quite distressed.

"Fatty, go to Man Ge's shop and borrow a piece of sturdy cardboard, then find a sheet of white paper to stick on it..." Fang Yi suddenly had an idea.

"What do you need those for?" The portly man asked, momentarily taken aback, but he turned to carry out the task.

"Oh, and borrow a brush and ink while you're at it..." Fang Yi added.

"Fang Yi, are you going to write those words on the cardboard?" San Pao, quick on the uptake, guessed Fang Yi's plan.

"Exactly. If we can't shout, can we not display a sign?" Fang Yi squinted slightly and said, "San Pao, I won't be joining you for dinner tonight; Fatty will likely be busy picking up a girl. You go over tonight and clarify our stance..."

"What should I say?" San Pao asked, momentarily bewildered.

Fang Yi pondered for a moment before responding, "Just say that Deputy Director Zhao is my mentor. Either we conduct business amicably, or we'll see who ultimately suffers..."

Even in the pursuit of cultivation, one must consider the importance of companions and resources; without funds, one cannot thrive. Fang Yi was willing to compromise, but he would not yield indefinitely. If anyone attempted to take advantage, he would not hesitate to use his connection with Deputy Director Zhao as a shield.

"Alright, I'll handle this. I'll make sure to convey the message..." San Pao nodded, feeling the need to express his frustrations from earlier.

As they spoke, the portly man returned with the brush, ink, and cardboard. Fang Yi placed the cardboard on the glass display and began to write with the ink. The message was brief but clear: free string tying, and complimentary accessories with bead purchases.

After finishing, Fang Yi propped the sign on the tricycle, immediately drawing the attention of passersby. No one expected him to refrain from shouting and instead resort to this clever tactic. Surprisingly, while it may not have had the same effect as shouting, the sign did attract a few curious tourists.

Meanwhile, the other vendors selling cultural artifacts could only watch in silence, knowing that Fang Yi had already made a concession. If they pushed for him to remove the sign, it would be seen as bullying.

Fortunately, writing a few promotional phrases on a board was not a complex skill, and those with quick wits had already scampered off to familiar antique shops to gather supplies.

Before half an hour had passed, nearly every stall selling cultural artifacts in the antique market had erected a similar sign. Some vendors who lacked accessories also planned to procure some for sale the next day.