Volume One, Chapter Thirteen: The Profit of the Mat

No matter whether they continued dealing in wild game or not, doing business was inseparable from the supply and marketing cooperative.

“Here.”

“All right, Lu Yang, come find me when the time comes. I have a surprise for you!”

Lu Yang paused, “A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

Song Ru smiled with a lively and mysterious glint in her eyes. “Since it’s a surprise, I definitely can’t tell you.”

The two entered the storeroom and took some fabric.

In this era, fabric was considered a precious commodity, though not as abundant as one might imagine.

However, the cloth was stored on a high shelf.

Although Song Ru wasn’t short, as a girl, she hesitated to stand on a stool.

Lu Yang fetched the fabric, and Song Ru handed him a cigarette.

“Remember our agreement, Lu Yang.”

“Okay.”

Watching Lu Yang leave, Sister Zhang sneered coldly.

Although Lu Yang bought a lot, a farmer was still a farmer—how much money could he have in a day?

Most likely, he was buying on behalf of others.

“Little Song, what are you talking to that country bumpkin about, and why do you look so happy?”

Song Ru smiled. “Sister Zhang, what a coincidence! He’s actually my high school classmate and ranked in the top five at school. He got into a key provincial university.”

Only then did Sister Zhang’s face soften slightly, but it was just a flicker of emotion.

After all, even if he went to university, he would probably just become a worker someday.

“Oh? And you told him all that? Ah, Little Song, it’s not that I’m blaming you, but…”

“You’re so beautiful, from such a good family, lots of bad men have their eyes on you.”

“Don’t be too kindhearted, or some toad might snatch you away before you even realize it.”

Song Ru chuckled lightly. “Sister Zhang, what are you thinking? We were just chatting casually.”

“By the way, Sister Zhang, could you lend me twenty yuan? I’ll pay you back once I get my salary this month.”

Sister Zhang snorted coldly. “You little girl, don’t mess with me! With your father’s status, you don’t need twenty yuan.”

Song Ru tugged at her hand coquettishly. “Oh, Sister Zhang! I can’t tell my dad about this money. Please help me out.”

Sister Zhang thought about how sweet the girl’s words were and how she never acted like a spoiled rich kid, often helping her deal with ignorant country folk.

“All right, all right! But you have to pay me back when you get your salary!”

“All right, all right!”

...

The cooperative had been established, but Lu Yang still didn’t know the exact price of mats.

He didn’t rush home but instead wandered the streets with Lu Yongchun and Lu Yongguo, looking for people who sold mats.

Soon, he spotted a man who seemed very knowledgeable.

The man was in his thirties, with a dozen or so mats of various widths laid out beside him.

His hands bore several cuts, obviously from bamboo.

This meant either he was a novice or an experienced mat weaver who often got hurt.

Judging by the mats, Lu Yang concluded it was the latter.

In those days, craftsmen were highly valued.

Some skilled artisans could even support their whole family.

When others needed work done, they were often treated to drinks and meat.

So these craftsmen were proud and took great pride in their skills.

Lu Yang bought a pack of Da Qianmen cigarettes from a shop, approached the man, and politely offered him a cigarette with a smile.

“Brother, how much do you sell these mats for?”

At that time, people were poor, and many smoked hand-rolled leaf tobacco.

As for factory-made cigarettes, many had never even seen one.

The man was initially wary but accepted the cigarette with a smile upon seeing Lu Yang’s courtesy.

Lu Yang lit it for him, and the man inhaled deeply before warmly explaining.

He said mats commonly came in four widths, each with different prices.

Moreover, mats were divided into two main types.

One type was woven with fresh green bamboo strips on the surface, called green mats, further categorized as top-grade and second-grade.

These mats were mainly used for sleeping and resting and were the fastest to make money.

The other type was woven with yellow bamboo strips underneath, called yellow mats.

These were often used for drying grain, lining buckets, building sheds, and so on.

This made nearly twenty specifications for a single mat.

With a cigarette in hand, the man patiently explained everything to Lu Yang.

When he realized Lu Yang was only asking about prices, not learning the craft, he openly shared all the details.

Before long, Lu Yang had a clear understanding.

Mats were indeed valuable commodities.

On average, yellow mats sold for eighty cents, green mats for two yuan.

In their village, yellow mats averaged fifty cents, and green mats about one yuan thirty.

This meant that even if their team didn’t weave mats but collected them from various villages, there was still a good profit margin.

Since yellow mats were less valuable, Lu Yang planned to improve the craft and introduce advanced yellow mats from later generations to increase material utilization.

But this would take time; for now, green mats were the focus.

The most common bed size was one and a half meters.

To industrialize the process, Lu Yang decided not to deal with other sizes for the time being.

Such a mat sold for four yuan.

His mother had just bought a new bed from a neighbor last month for two yuan sixty.

The man took another drag on his cigarette and said, “Ah, I don’t have enough volume. Otherwise, I’d just deliver directly to the supply and marketing cooperative—it’s more convenient and they pay promptly.”

Lu Yang’s interest was piqued. “How many do they require to buy?”

“At least five hundred mats, and the sizes must be uniform. They don’t like sorting mixed ones.”

The cooperative had thirty-six members, all experienced mat weavers.

On average, they could produce one mat every five days.

A one and a half meter mat required about fifteen bamboo stalks.

Each bamboo stalk cost ten cents; one person could earn fifty cents a day, totaling fifteen yuan a month.

The entire cooperative’s monthly earnings would be 540 yuan.

If the team took a forty percent cut, that left 216 yuan for distribution, less than three yuan per person.

Lu Yang felt that was still too little.

“How much does the supply cooperative pay per mat?”

“I don’t know exactly, but it’s definitely higher than our retail price because they have to transport to the city and provincial capital and make a profit. Probably around four yuan fifty to six yuan.”

This wouldn’t do—Lu Yang needed to find a way to improve efficiency.

Riding on the tractor, he was pondering this when someone nearby asked, “Young man, are you taking this fabric back to sell in the countryside?”

In this planned economy era, productivity was low, and many goods were scarce.

Lu Yang smiled, “Do you want to buy?”

“How much are you selling for?”

“It depends on how much you want. If you want it all, two hundred yuan is fine.”

This was big business for the time, but the other party looked like someone who ran a clothing shop in the rural market.

People like him were mostly tailors, each with one or two apprentices, able to make a set of clothes a day and double the price.

Their biggest problem was not having extra fabric on hand.

“All right, deliver it to my shop later.”

“Sure!”

As they spoke, the tractor ahead suddenly roared like it was angry, the front lifted up.

Everyone shouted urgently, “The tractor is rearing up—it’s going to tip over!”