Chapter 4 – The Life of a Street Vendor
"Really?" Yang Wendong instantly shook off his drowsiness and sat up from the wooden bed.
In the corner of the room was the bamboo tube trap. The front end had a rat caught inside, its head wedged firmly into the tube.
Su Yiyi laughed, "Looks like you slept too soundly last night. You didn't hear a thing."
"I know, right? I didn't even notice the mosquitoes biting me," Yang Wendong said, scratching at the fresh mosquito bites on his hand and belly.
He had been so exhausted that night that nothing disturbed his sleep—not mosquitoes, not rats. When you're focused on surviving, little annoyances like that barely register.
Su Yiyi picked up the bamboo tube and said, "This rat is pretty big. Should I throw it away?"
"Yeah. But rinse the trap in a nearby pond to get rid of the rat smell, or we won't catch any more next time," Yang Wendong instructed.
At this point in time, Hong Kong wasn't yet facing its famous water crisis. Drinking water was hard to get, but there were still some dirty ponds around.
"Alright," Su Yiyi nodded.
Just then, Auntie Guo arrived at the door and saw the two of them standing there. "You caught a rat?"
"Yep! Brother Dong's trap really works! Look, it's huge!" Su Yiyi said proudly, raising the trap for her mom to see.
Auntie Guo took a look and said, "Throw it far away. If people see it, someone might actually eat it."
"Got it," Su Yiyi nodded.
Yang Wendong didn't say anything. As hard as things were for the three of them, at least they could still survive. They weren't doing great, but they weren't starving.
But many others were far worse off. Living right on the edge of survival, some didn't even care whether a rat was edible.
"Let's eat. I bought some mantou for breakfast," Auntie Guo said. Even before heading off to work, she still had chores to do—like preparing food for everyone.
The mantou were dry, and Wendong had to drink water while nibbling on a bit of pickled vegetables to get them down.
Still, in the shack settlement, this counted as a decent breakfast. Since all three of them had to work during the day, they were lucky to eat this well.
Those without jobs usually only ate two meals a day—barely—and mantou were a luxury.
After breakfast, Auntie Guo went to work at a textile factory. It was hard labor, but it paid relatively well.
Su Yiyi returned to her embroidery. It was unreliable work, but if your skill was good, the income could be decent. And she was indeed talented.
As for the original Yang Wendong, before falling ill, he had been doing odd labor jobs at docks and warehouses.
But no matter the era, backbreaking labor could never make you rich. In 1958 Hong Kong, just having enough food and a place to live—no matter how shabby—was considered doing well.
Later that morning, Zhao Liming arrived and learned that the trap had caught a rat. "Brother Dong, so what's the plan—make more traps today?"
"Exactly. The docks don't need extra workers right now, and I'm not going back to the warehouse just yet," Wendong nodded.
"I'm in. Let's make a batch today and go sell them tomorrow. I already talked to my dad—he supports the idea," Zhao Liming said.
"Good. Let's give it a shot for a few days," Wendong agreed.
Without wasting time, the two of them headed back to the hills, gathered seven or eight bamboo poles about as tall as a man, and brought them home to begin crafting.
Transporting bamboo was much easier than moving finished traps, which took up more space.
By evening, they had made 20 traps. Only three of them were fully assembled; the rest were left disassembled to save space, tied together and stacked into a large basket.
"Alright. Tomorrow we'll go to the East Market to sell," Wendong said, looking at the day's haul.
The East Market was the closest produce market, about two or three miles away. Even shack residents went there for groceries.
But its main customers were the families living in proper homes nearby. Their spending power was ten times that of the shack dwellers.
These were the people Yang Wendong was targeting—real homes, better hygiene concerns, and a willingness to spend money to deal with rats.
Early the next morning, Wendong got up before dawn. He didn't know the exact time, but he could hear roosters crowing in the distance.
He and Zhao Liming walked to the East Market, which was already bustling.
Vendors had to arrive early, and so did the families buying fresh food for the day.
At that time in Hong Kong, most vegetables and meat came from the mainland. But due to transportation limitations, there were often shortages, which kept prices high.
"We'll sell here, walking the street," Wendong said as he set down a trap with a dead rat still inside, placing it beneath a tree near the road.
"This doesn't count as setting up a stall?" Zhao Liming asked.
"Of course not. Who's gonna buy something just lying on the ground next to a dead rat?" Wendong shrugged.
Zhao Liming nodded. "True. So we just start pitching to people?"
"Exactly," Wendong nodded, scanning the street. He spotted a middle-aged woman, modestly dressed, and approached her with a smile. "Miss, interested in a cheap rat trap? Guaranteed to work. Want to take a look?"
"A rat trap?" The woman seemed pleased to be addressed as "miss." She glanced down at the bamboo traps in the basket. "These catch rats?"
"Yes, miss. See this one? Caught a big one last night. Just toss in some leftovers, and the trap does the rest. It's a common method in many places on the mainland."
"I already have a rat cage at home," the woman said.
Wendong replied, "That's good, but when your rat gets caught, you still have to take it out yourself. With this bamboo tube, it's easy—just remove this piece, and the rat drops out."
He demonstrated.
People—especially women—naturally hated rats. If they could avoid even touching one, they would.
"This looks alright. How much is it?" she asked.
"Fifty cents. Very cheap," Wendong said.
"It's cheap, yes. But let me think about it." She hesitated, then walked off.
Once she was out of earshot, Zhao Liming grumbled, "We talked to her for so long, and she didn't buy anything. I thought this would be easier."
"Nothing in business is easy," Wendong said calmly. Making money has never been easy in any era.
Just then, a few young men with cigarettes dangling from their lips walked over. One of them stared at the two of them and asked, "You guys new here?"
"Yes," Wendong replied. He already had an idea of who these guys were.
"Alright. Business here is open to everyone, but you gotta pay the fee—50 cents a day," the guy said.
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