Chapter 71: The Game Console Isn't Selling

The last part of the previous chapter has been revised; those who haven’t read it yet, please take a look.

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Night gradually descended.

The large floodlights cast a golden glow across the entire square, and more and more vendors appeared.

“Candied hawthorn sticks for sale!” A man in his fifties pushed his bicycle, two straw rods tied beside the cargo rack, each adorned with rows of bright red candied hawthorn.

“One stick, please.”

“Thirty cents.”

Several children pulled at their mothers and grandmothers, squeezing forward. Holding their freshly acquired treats, they skipped away gleefully.

Vendors selling cotton candy, popcorn, slippers, sundries—everything imaginable was on offer.

In an instant, the North Square seemed flooded with countless peddlers.

And around each stall, there were more or less a few people gathered.

But the most attention was focused on the entrance, where two or three dozen people crowded together.

From their boisterous chatter, one could occasionally catch the strains of melodious music drifting out: “…Only now do I realize, the deepest wounds and pain of love and hate are regret… When tears fill my eyes, don’t ask for whom they flow…”

Seeing the crowd swell, Wang Qiang stood nearby and shouted his rhyming sales pitch, “Take a look, take a stroll, don’t let this chance slip by!”

The phrase was ordinary; many customers simply listened to the music, paying him no mind.

“From north and south, from America and Hong Kong, those who’ve traveled far and wide, hiked mountains, played by rivers, studied abroad, visited beauty, even kissed on the street…”

Many of the young people in front of his stall couldn’t help but chuckle at the line about kissing on the street.

“This product has just come out, been featured on Central Television, on TV and in the papers, known across the country!”

What?

That impressive? Even featured on Central Television?

Many exchanged glances, as if trying to see in their companions’ eyes whether they were ignorant of such news.

But Wang Qiang’s next line nearly made everyone faint: “If you haven’t seen it, it means your TV has no signal!”

A girl in a floral dress burst out laughing.

A few young men were also amused, laughing heartily.

Then, from the crowd, a girl with a pink handbag approached the stall and asked, “Boss, is it really as incredible as you say?”

“Miss,” Wang Qiang replied smoothly, “Whether it’s incredible or not isn’t up to me—it needs to be tested and reported on site.” He picked up the portable player that was currently blasting music. “Look, I’ve had it playing since this afternoon; the sound is still loud, isn’t it?”

Being called “Miss” made her beam with pleasure. At the time, such terms weren’t common; people usually called each other “girl” or “young man.” In a good mood, she said, “A hundred yuan is a bit steep—if you lower the price, I’ll take one.”

Wang Qiang lamented, “A hundred yuan expensive? This is a portable player! Where else can you find one so cheap and of such good quality?”

She had intended to buy one anyway, and truly, in Shanghai, a hundred yuan wouldn’t get her a portable player. In the end, she bought it, and picked out two tapes as well.

Another deal completed.

Only four or five portable players remained on the stall.

Yet the game consoles and cartridges still wouldn’t sell.

Just then, a boy around fifteen or sixteen dragged his father over. “Dad, buy me a portable player, please!”

“Alright, just one, but you promised you’d do well on your exams.” The father warned, “If you don’t, next time you won’t get anything—not even a portable player.”

Wang Qiang asked about their requirements, picked out a player, and handed it over, actively promoting, “How about a game console? Cheap—one hundred and eighty per unit, department stores start at two hundred…”

The father’s expression changed, his voice sharp. “No!”

The boy’s eyes, however, revealed longing.

Wang Qiang worried that if he pushed further, even the portable player sale might fall through, so he closed his mouth and took the payment.

……

Portable players sold very well.

By around nine o’clock that evening, all twenty units had been sold, along with thirty or forty tapes.

But seeing the stack of game consoles lying untouched on the cardboard, Wang Qiang grew puzzled.

The old man was already preparing to pack up, tapping his lower back. “Wang, your business is good. Since this afternoon, twenty portable players sold—you’ve made quite a bit.”

Watching fireflies flit about, Wang Qiang sighed, “Portable players are easy to sell, but game consoles won’t move.”

“You want to sell game consoles here?” The old man scoffed. “Wishful thinking, isn’t it?”

Wang Qiang bundled the consoles together and asked, “Why do you say that?”

The old man paused packing, sat down, and looked over. “Let me ask you, who comes to the train station?”

“Travelers, migrant workers, visiting relatives, people on business trips,” Wang Qiang replied.

The old man slapped his thigh. “Exactly! Haven’t you noticed that those buying your portable players are all young people? They’re mostly here to work, buy a player to listen to music, maybe show it off to coworkers. But what use is a game console? Are you expecting them to buy a TV for the dormitory just to play?”

As the saying goes, an elder in the family is a treasure.

Wang Qiang suddenly understood. He hadn’t thought about customer needs before, only about the heavy foot traffic at the station. Now, hearing the old man’s analysis, it made perfect sense—most here were migrant workers. Even if they liked games, they didn’t have the conditions to play.

Not to mention color TVs; even a black-and-white TV cost several hundred yuan at the time.

The game console needed a TV to work, and those young workers weren’t about to spend hundreds more just to play games.

Moreover, the biggest user group for game consoles was not young adults, but elementary and middle school students.

As for the young people seen at North Square, they were either reporting to college or starting work—not the right market for games. Bringing game consoles to North Square was, in fact, a mistake.

Wang Qiang humbly asked, “Where do you think game consoles would sell best?”

The old man shook his head. “I don’t know. I know my grandson likes going next door to play, but do you think I’d buy him such a harmful thing?”

“No,” Wang Qiang answered with an awkward smile.

What parent doesn’t hope their child excels?

Children lack self-control; once addicted to games, their grades may plummet, so most parents hate game consoles passionately.

In Western countries, it might be different, but here, parents fear game consoles like the plague. Not only won’t they buy one, if their child sneaks off to a game parlor on weekends, they might get a beating.

Perhaps only a rare, open-minded parent would buy a game console for their child.

More likely, kids would save up lucky money bit by bit, or spend their pocket money on a game console to hide at home, playing while their parents were out. That’s only possible in wealthy families; ordinary folks could hardly afford such extravagance.

For a moment, Wang Qiang felt a headache.

It seemed game consoles were not in such hot demand as he’d imagined.

But twenty units, plus dozens of cartridges, had cost fourteen hundred yuan—he couldn’t just let them go unsold.

Wang Qiang felt troubled, thinking perhaps he should focus on selling the portable players and forget the game consoles for now. Only, the authorities would inspect the square the day after tomorrow, so he probably couldn’t sell portable players there for a few days.

He needed to find a solution that satisfied both needs.

As he packed up and walked back to the inn, his mind kept turning over what to do next.