Qiaotou General Goods Store

At twenty-eight, Zhou Cheng had just become a boss, and already he was learning an expensive lesson over six chairs.

"I'll throw in a few more. It's no trouble since I'm going that way, and I won't charge you."

Only after saying it did he realize he'd need another vehicle, and he'd have to pay extra for delivery. By the time he finished sorting everything out and recalculated the costs, he still hadn't even counted his own labor.

In the autumn of 2008, he and an old acquaintance took over the Bridgehead General Store. The front sold pots, bowls, and household goods; the back courtyard rented out tables, chairs, dishes, and chopsticks. After several years of supplying goods, he hoped his careful approach would help him build a business of his own.

But running a store meant dealing with everything: regulars complained that he was too precise with the numbers, his business partner thought he agreed too quickly, his mother waived someone's bill, and the former owner demanded the outstanding payment before casually moving the shelves back to where they had been.

The orders kept piling up, but the money never seemed to stretch far enough. Whenever someone said, "While you're at it," his own affairs got pushed back a little further.

Then there was Zheng Wenjing, who ran a photo and printing shop on the street. She was willing to spend half a day helping him pick out shoes, but she had her own business to attend to. The dinner they'd planned couldn't keep waiting until he finally had time.

The little shop by the bridge stayed open day after day. Some people stayed in town; others moved away.

Zhou Cheng wanted to make more money. He also hoped that one day he could confidently leave the store in his partner's hands and make it to a date on time.

When they finally sat down, the food was still hot.