VHBF – Chapter 66 Movie King Daddy (Part 25)

A small, beat-up blue three-wheeler loaded with fresh vegetables came rattling down from the hillside toward the town. Strangely enough, the driver of this shabby little vehicle was a young, handsome man with a refined, elegant air that clashed completely with the dilapidated tricycle.

The old tricycle clattered noisily all the way. On the back seat, aside from the vegetables, sat a little stool. Perched on top was a pink dumpling of a child hugging her tiny schoolbag. She was brimming with excitement, her chubby body wriggling restlessly. A long strip of cloth tied around her waist served as a makeshift “seatbelt.”

Luckily, that strap held her small body securely in place, or else the little dumpling might have bounced right up into the sky with excitement.

Even though she couldn’t move much, her mouth didn’t stay idle. She clapped her little hands vigorously to cheer on her dad at the wheel: “Go, Daddy, go! Daddy, you can do it!” There wasn’t a moment of peace along the way.

Zhu Ji: “……”

The cameramen trailing behind nearly died laughing. The elegant, aloof, “flower on the high peak” movie emperor’s image had completely collapsed. Just this scene alone—riding a shabby little tricycle loaded with vegetables to market with his daughter—could keep the audience laughing for a whole year!

At that moment, Director Zhang Daxi, watching from the backstage monitors, had stars in his eyes. He was practically giddy. This father-daughter pair was pure gold! Where else could the audience see a movie emperor like this, if not on his show?

Zhang Daxi could guarantee that once this aired, the fans would go wild. And even if they weren’t fans—even complete strangers—viewers would laugh themselves silly.

Thinking of that, Zhang Daxi couldn’t help glancing at the mischievous little dumpling.

The dumpling might be fawning at times, but when it came to selling out her dad, she didn’t go easy at all.

Back when the old grandpa had asked them to help sell vegetables, the dumpling had immediately agreed the moment she heard they could live in a big house. She thumped her little chest and promised without hesitation. Selling vegetables? No problem! With an excited face, she declared she would definitely sell every last one of grandpa’s vegetables—after all, she was the best at making money!

Before Zhu Ji, the dad, could even open his mouth, the dumpling had already struck a cheerful deal with the old man on his behalf.

Zhu Ji: “……”

In his entire life, Zhu Ji had never ridden a tricycle before. Not even back in his most impoverished youth had he ridden one, much less used it to haul a cartload of vegetables to sell at market.

The most he’d ever done was deliver milk and parcels on a bicycle. Back then, they were too poor to afford an electric scooter. His only possession was a tall-framed old bike, which had been his one and only asset. Later, when he made money, he’d gone straight to buying small cars and sports cars—he’d never even ridden an electric scooter or tricycle.

But under the sparkling gaze of his daughter, who looked at him with absolute faith—her eyes saying “My daddy can do anything”—Zhu Ji swallowed down his refusal. After all… the old man had promised them a house. The dumpling had been unwilling to waste money on a hotel, and if they could stay in a big house, that was certainly better.

And so, this scene came to be. Riding a tricycle wasn’t so different from riding a bicycle or scooter. With his quick learning, Zhu Ji only needed to glance a few times before he got the hang of it. At first, he drove slowly, like a turtle creeping along, but after adapting, he picked up speed and steadily headed toward town.

The road was relatively smooth, mostly cemented, with only a few bumps. Even so, by the time they reached the market, the dumpling felt like her little butt no longer belonged to her.

She had gone quiet along the way, not daring to complain for fear of distracting her dad. Now that they’d stopped, she stood up clutching her sore little bottom, inhaling sharply, rubbing it with both tiny hands. Then, with her arms stretched wide, she asked Daddy to carry her.

Zhu Ji lifted the fragrant little dumpling into his arms. She was pitifully aggrieved, lying against his shoulder as she wailed that her little bottom hurt from the bumps.

Anyone who’s ridden a tricycle knows how rough they are—the jolts make sitting unbearable. For short distances it’s tolerable, but after a while you feel like your rear end doesn’t belong to you anymore.

The dumpling’s flesh was tender. It was only now that the delayed pain brought tears to her eyes. Zhu Ji, worried, wanted to take her to the hospital to check for injuries and see if she needed medicine. After all, children’s bones are soft, and he feared the jolting might cause harm.

But the dumpling quickly refused: “Daddy, we still have to sell veggies to earn money!”

Just then, a friendly auntie passing by noticed their cartload of vegetables and kindly reminded them: “Young man, if you’re selling vegetables, better set up soon. In a little while there won’t be any spots left.”

The warm-hearted aunt also noticed the dumpling clutching her sore little bottom. After overhearing their conversation, she immediately understood. Boldly, she reached out and rubbed the dumpling’s little bum twice, then declared, “No problem! My grandson is three too. He comes with me to set up the stall every day. He’s used to it now—it’ll be fine. Give it a bit and the pain will go away.”

The dumpling also started to think it wasn’t a big deal. Her little chubby bottom just hurt a bit from the bumps. And besides, what she really wanted was Daddy’s hugs, kisses, and to be lifted high into the air, so she kept acting spoiled.

At this moment, seeing the aunty talking to her, the little one also raised her tiny paw to show that she was fine.

“Daddy, let’s go sell the veggies first. If it still hurts after we sell them, then we’ll have money to see the doctor, right?”

This kind of calculation Yinyin was very good at. The old grannies in their neighborhood had often said that hospitals cost a lot of money, just one trip would spend so, so much, and Yinyin couldn’t bear that!

Seeing her with a pained expression yet insisting she was fine, the cameramen all struggled to hold in their laughter, almost bursting from it. Later in post-production, they even added a “money-grubber” sticker over her face with the caption: “Don’t think you can squeeze money out of me! Not even Daddy can!”

The town’s market wasn’t big, but it had everything. Bustling and lively, although for the morning crowd it was already late. The stalls were packed full, and the sellers were mostly grandpas and grannies hawking vegetables, fruit, fish, meat, tofu—young stall owners were rare.

Zhu Ji and his daughter arrived right after the kind-hearted aunty, who was a fruit seller. She set up at her regular paid spot and, noticing the father and daughter looking lost, sighed at how cute the little girl was and pointed them the way.

“See over there?” She pointed toward the east side of the market, a slightly out-of-the-way corner with fewer people. “Set up there. We pay rent here for fixed spots, but that side is free. If the city inspectors come, just pack up quick. Usually they don’t bother there, so just set up.”

The aunty found the child adorable and added a few more words: “Young man, you’re still so young—why do this? Selling vegetables is the hardest. Everyone here grows their own, who’s going to buy? You can’t sell for a good price, and most end up unsold.”

She glanced at the cart of vegetables behind them, shook her head, and looked at Zhu Ji with sympathy. “Did you buy these from someone else? Must’ve cost a lot, right? At least two hundred, no? I’m afraid you’ll be working for nothing. If you don’t lose money, that’s already lucky!”

With that, she turned to serve her new customers, too busy to keep advising the young single dad who looked about to lose money.

Truthfully, Zhu Ji had indeed bought the vegetables.

He had paid three hundred yuan to the old man. At first, the old man didn’t want to take it, knowing well vegetables didn’t sell here. When he and his wife sold their own, it was always half sold, half given away, earning at most a hundred or two—hardly worth three hundred.

But Zhu Ji, seeing how fresh the produce was, thought it feasible. He also borrowed the old man’s tricycle, scale, plastic bags, and other essentials for selling. All of that was included.

The money was given, and since the old man had promised that once the veggies sold out, they could stay in the house, it was a fair deal.

Yinyin followed behind her dad to set up the stall. Three big baskets of vegetables were unloaded and arranged on the temporary spot.

They only had a small folding stool—the same one Yinyin had sat on in the tricycle. This time, she gave it to Daddy. Right in front of their spot was a long stone table; Zhu Ji spread a clean cloth over it and set the veggies on top, seating Yinyin there as well.

The flow of people was constant, and the new father-daughter pair selling vegetables quickly drew attention.

Usually, buyers were housewives or grannies and grandpas. Vendors were almost all elderly too. Rarely did a young, handsome man show up, let alone one with a three-year-old girl. And this girl—so fair, soft, and doll-like—was instantly lovable.

Two aunties approached, picked up some eggplants and cucumbers, noted how fresh they looked, and asked about the price.

Zhu Ji showed them a board he had just written on: “Tomatoes 2.3 yuan per jin, bok choy 1.2 yuan, eggplants 3.5 yuan…”

The aunty in yellow raised her brows. “Too expensive! Young man, look around—who sells for that price here? These tomatoes, 1 yuan a jin at most.”

Zhu Ji only smiled without arguing. His refined looks softened the aunty’s tone. She glanced at him again, then at the little girl sitting with the vegetables.

“This child is so cute. Why not just throw her in as a bonus? I’ll buy five jin of tomatoes and take her with them?”

Everyone could tell she was joking. Normally, Zhu Ji was easy-going, but hearing that, he frowned slightly and answered seriously: “Auntie, this is my daughter. She’s not for sale.”

His earnestness made the two aunties laugh, but before they could tease further, Yinyin scrambled over, hugging Daddy’s arm tightly.

“Yinyin is not for sale! Yinyin belongs to Daddy! Grandma, you’re so bad, Yinyin is not for sale!”

She kept repeating it—Yinyin is not for sale. How could you sell Yinyin?

She had understood that this grandma wanted to buy her. Jokes between adults meant nothing to her—she was terrified Daddy might really give her away. She quickly promised she would help Daddy sell the vegetables, just please don’t trade her away.

And she meant it.

Standing on the stone table, taller than the piles of veggies, her chubby little legs tucked underneath, she planted her hands on her hips, puffed out her little belly, and began to shout in her baby voice like she had seen adults do on TV:

“Vegetables for sale! Fresh and tasty veggies, come buy veggies!”

Her clear, childish voice stood out among the calls of the other vendors, immediately drawing attention. Several people wandered over, and seeing the doll-like little Yinyin shining with joy when they approached made their hearts light up.

Those who came were mostly idle grannies and grandpas who strolled the market every day. Sometimes they bought, sometimes not—it was just routine. But spotting a three-year-old hawking vegetables was a rare spectacle, so they gathered around.

They watched with great interest, asking the child instead of the adult beside her.

“How much is this? What about that?”

On the board, the only numbers Yinyin could recognize were 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. So she simply pointed at the board. “The prices are all there, very fair! Daddy and I picked them with Grandpa and Grandma this morning. Super fresh! The tomatoes are really sweet—I ate some myself!”

Yinyin had a natural gift. Even at three years old, with limited words, people couldn’t help listening to her. Her soft, milky voice, calling everyone “Grandpa” and “Grandma” so sweetly, melted hearts.

Her big round eyes were wide with sincerity. She really wanted to sell the veggies—if they sold well, she could help Daddy earn back the three hundred yuan, and then they could live in a big house. Nothing sounded better to her.

At least it was easier than picking up bottles! That’s what Yinyin thought.

Facing a circle of strangers, she tried hard to keep a straight face, not wanting to look silly. With her little hands clasped behind her back, she imitated the serious air of a tiny shopkeeper.

The crowd almost burst out laughing. More and more people gathered, watching her with delight. Every time she paused, they deliberately threw her more questions.

As for Zhu Ji, he never stopped his daughter from talking with strangers. At three years old, she was at her peak learning age, highly adaptable. More interaction could only help her grow.

So he just sat there watching, as his three-year-old daughter pitched vegetables to the crowd.