Chapter Six: A Difficult Situation

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Having to rest at home for two days, Chen Guangliang did not idle away his time. Suddenly inspired, he decided to write out the novel "Rickshaw Boy." After all, in his past life, he had read Lao She’s original text and seen the film starring Zhang Fengyi, so the long novel left a strong impression on him.

He purchased the cheapest wooden pencil and plain paper. Whenever he encountered traditional characters he couldn’t write, he referred to old newspapers. Taking his time was no problem. After overcoming various difficulties, Chen Guangliang soon realized a harsh truth—his writing style was vastly inferior to that of contemporary authors; even his vernacular prose lacked refinement.

“Looks like I can’t become a copyist after all!” he thought. He had hoped to earn his first pot of gold this way, but quickly found it unrealistic. In this era, literati were truly wealthy. Lu Xun earned up to 420 yuan a month and could live in the Ramos Apartments in Shanghai (later called the Beichuan Apartments); Xu Zhimo’s salary allowed him to rent a villa in Shanghai, employ a driver and servants, letting Lu Xiaoman live like a young lady, although Xu himself wore a pair of worn trousers.

It was enviable—just a university professor’s salary was 240 yuan, and Xu Zhimo was a lecturer at three universities in Shanghai! Ultimately, Chen Guangliang settled on drafting an outline in vernacular Chinese, sketching the main plot and character traits, and outlining two main storylines.

“Let’s just treat it as material!” Even Lao She, who wrote this novel in his previous life, was inspired by a friend from Shandong University who recounted his experiences hiring rickshaw pullers: a puller who bought a “foreign rickshaw,” sold it shortly after, went through three ups and downs, and ultimately remained poor. Lao She’s own impoverished background and close contact with the lower classes gave him deep insight into the lives and psyche of laborers, all of which provided source material for creating "Rickshaw Boy."

...

“Boss Wang, how have you been?” Chen Guangliang greeted.

“How’s the rest going?” Wang Chengyun laughed, “Young man, you’re energetic and hardworking, good!”

After a brief chat, Wang Chengyun handed Chen a license plate. It was for a six or seven-year-old rickshaw—far from ideal. Chen Guangliang didn’t complain outright but his opinion of Wang Chengyun was confirmed: a smiling tiger.

Wang Chengyun’s "Wang’s Rickshaw Company" controlled over 120 rickshaws and employed more than 200 pullers. These pullers paid him high rents daily, and he at least provided them with a means to earn a living.

That seemed fine on the surface. But from Chen Guangliang’s perspective, Wang engaged in many underhanded tactics exploiting the workers. First, he limited how much the pullers could earn, discouraging anyone from buying their own rickshaws.

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Secondly, many pullers entrusted their savings to Wang for safekeeping (since shantytowns and crowded dormitories weren’t safe), but he paid no interest. Lastly, Wang liked to make pullers work without pay or proper compensation.

The original accumulation of capital was always ruthless—this saying was certainly true. Chen Guangliang learned a thing or two from Wang’s cunning.

However, the difficulty before Chen was exactly Wang’s slyness. His original plan was to save eight to nine yuan a month, and within three months, qualify to buy a new rickshaw and become a shareholder. But now, saving six or seven yuan a month was already a good feat.

And that was despite no one knowing how much he pulled daily—otherwise, Wang would surely sabotage him further by forcing more rest days.

Four or five months to earn his first pot of gold—it left Chen somewhat dissatisfied.

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By May, the life of rickshaw pullers began growing harder. Running barefoot (straw sandals wore out easily) on the streets, their soles blistered after a day’s work; excessive sweating required timely hydration; the smell of sweat drew disdain and even ridicule.

Chen Guangliang persisted in running as much as possible daily, gaining some reputation within the circle.

While working, he paid close attention to whether customers were intellectuals, subtly probing if they had published articles. He hoped his “materials” might bring some extra benefit.

One day near Tianfei Palace Bridge, a young puller named He Xiangdong saw Chen put down his rickshaw and asked, “A-liang, you run yourself ragged every day, must be making good money, right?”

Chen smiled at the familiar faces gathering around. “Have you ever seen a rickshaw puller actually make money?”

Everyone burst out laughing. Though carefree laughter, the truth was undeniable.

He Xiangdong said, “Not necessarily. I heard two years ago, Li Sizhong from Wang’s Rickshaw Company bought his own rickshaw, and now he lives with meat every day.”

He showed envy.

“Yeah, that guy’s so proud now he doesn’t even greet us.”

“Pah! I heard he had to kneel outside Boss Wang’s house all night to get the license, only then was it settled.”

This drew mockery from all for Li’s kneeling.

Chen was somewhat shocked—he had no idea rickshaw licenses were so hard to obtain.

He was prepared for this! After all, a brand new rickshaw cost just over 100 yuan, or as low as seventy or eighty for lesser quality ones. So there must be some who could afford one.

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Moreover, the Public Works Bureau set the license fee at two yuan per rickshaw, with monthly taxes around three yuan.

Even so, there should be some who could afford a rickshaw.

But in reality, sixty to seventy percent of the rickshaws on the road were controlled by the “rickshaw company” owners.

Clearly, “connections” were crucial; only by navigating these could one obtain a license.

He Xiangdong boldly declared, “When I save enough, I’ll buy a brand new rickshaw. Then I won’t have to pay rent, and my monthly income will more than double!”

Another Xiangzi!

His words drew agreement from a few others.

However, given their circumstances, buying a rickshaw seemed a lifelong impossibility—licenses would only become harder to get as competition intensified.

If now the company monopolized sixty to seventy percent of rickshaws, in the next five years, that share would rise to eighty or ninety percent since licenses had expiration dates.

Similarly, monopolies among companies would grow, eventually concentrated in a dozen or so large firms.

Time was running out!

When would he earn his first pot of gold?

After the crowd dispersed, He Xiangdong quietly approached Chen and whispered, “A-liang, I know you work so hard every day because you want to buy your own rickshaw, right?”

Chen saw the sharpness in He’s eyes and replied, “Who doesn’t want that!”

He Xiangdong looked around, then said mysteriously, “Wanting isn’t enough. The key is finding a way. Buying a rickshaw alone is tough, but what if two or three of us join together? That way, we can get it sooner.”

A clever mind!

How many rickshaw pullers of this era had such brains? Most just lived paycheck to paycheck.

Seeing this, Chen didn’t hide his thoughts: “I was thinking the same, but the license is so hard to get!”

He Xiangdong brightened and said, “Hard doesn’t mean impossible. Besides, driving an unlicensed rickshaw is better than depending on others.”

Bold and resourceful.

Unlicensed rickshaws were illegal, but he dared to try.

Chen nodded. “Alright, then we’ll partner up.”

He Xiangdong said, “Remember to convince your second uncle.”

He knew Chen was strong and literate, so the best partner. Plus, Chen’s second uncle was a veteran in this business, making their partnership even better.

“Good.”