That morning, just before heading out, I took a sales inquiry call. Afterwards, my mother‑in‑law scolded me: “Why are you so long‑winded? Just tell him the price per ton and that shipping isn’t included, and be done with it!” I laughed and said, “Yes, I can be verbose—but online I’m even more so! Many customers chat with me for ages before ordering; plenty talk but never buy. If I didn’t have the patience to explain every detail, I wouldn’t be in business!”
On the call, I did give him the price per ton for our mugwort leaf powder and an estimate of freight costs. I told him customers are welcome to pick up in person; if he needs us to ship, he covers all shipping and handling. Since he showed genuine interest, why wouldn’t I answer him fully? In the early days of my business, I welcomed any call—whether it led to a sale or not. As I grew, I admit I began favoring large, easy orders. Eventually I realized that was wrong: small buyers deserve respect, too. Business is all about relationships. Today, even though demand outstrips supply, I treat every inquiry with care. Business has its ups and downs—just because things are good now doesn’t mean they’ll stay that way. If I get arrogant, customers will notice—and when supply exceeds demand, they’ll simply go elsewhere.
I remember a time I was so busy I couldn’t give one customer the full attention I’d normally spend. She said, “I’ve bought from you many times, but I just wanted to talk—get to know you better!” I felt ashamed. Even a small glitch—say, a late delivery—can be frustrating, and I used to blame the customer for not being patient. But then I remembered how I shop online, and how I feel when a seller ignores my questions. Now, no matter how small or tedious the issue, I remind myself and my assistant: be patient, be thorough.
After all, customers have endless choices—why should they trust you, and why would they recommend you to friends? Beyond product quality, service is crucial.
Just yesterday, a stranger phoned asking how to do moxibustion for her son, who isn’t robust. I asked about his habits and health. A skinny, active child isn’t necessarily unhealthy; heavy moxibustion could overheat him. When he has a sore throat, simple cupping on specific points is enough—no daily moxa needed. Many assume moxibustion is a cure‑all, panicking whether a child is too thin or too chubby. In cases like this, I still take the time to explain why a lighter approach makes more sense.
In my moxibustion community, I’m even more long‑winded. Whether anyone pays attention or not, whenever I have a spare moment, I share insights. Barring times I’m swamped, I always try to answer every question, or at least let people know I’ll get back to them.
In the fields of moxibustion and mugwort production, I’ve gathered some experience. If you trust me enough to ask, I owe you a thorough reply. I’m deeply grateful to every friend and customer who tolerates my verbosity—because of you, more and more people benefit from what I share.
So yes, I’m long‑winded. And I’m proud of it. I’ll keep at it—because my verbosity comes from caring…and from moxa!