Six is a thumb and a little finger: counting on one hand in China

The woman behind the lychees does not say a number. She wipes one hand on her apron and raises it, thumb and little finger out, three fingers folded, the way someone elsewhere might mime a telephone. Then she goes back to tying bags. The price was six, it was stated clearly, and the foreign customer is still waiting to hear it.

Six through ten, on one hand

One to five look as expected, a finger per unit, starting from the index. After five, the hand stops counting and starts drawing. Six, liù (六), is the thumb and little finger extended. Seven, qī (七), is the thumb, index and middle fingertips pinched to a point, like lifting a pinch of salt. Eight, bā (八), is thumb and index opened into an L, a rough sketch of the character itself. Nine, jiǔ (九), is the index finger alone, crooked into a hook. Ten, shí (十), is a closed fist, or two index fingers laid across each other to make the cross of the written character.

The set is not perfectly uniform. Some southern speakers sign seven and eight differently, and ten circulates in at least three versions. Vendors settle the doubt the practical way, by typing the figure into a calculator or a phone and turning the screen around.

Why the hand backs up the mouth

Mandarin numbers are one syllable each, and two of them sit very close. Four is sì (四); ten is shí (十). In the standard pronunciation the difference is a curled tongue and a tone, but across much of the south the curl is dropped and shí slides toward sí. Fourteen, shísì (十四), and forty, sìshí (四十), are the same two syllables in opposite order. In a covered market with a fishmonger's hose running and a scooter idling in the aisle, that is not much to go on.

The gesture is a second copy of the number, sent where the noise cannot reach it.

So the hand goes up with the word. A fist does not look like four fingers. The same instinct explains a habit heard at hotel desks and from anyone reading out a phone number: the digit one, yī (一), is often spoken as yāo (幺), because yī is too easily heard as qī. A receptionist saying yāo-líng-yāo is giving room 101, not a word missing from the phrasebook.

Two words for two

The number two has a spoken trap of its own. As a digit it is èr (二); as a quantity of things it becomes liǎng (两). Two people at a restaurant door are liǎng wèi (两位), the answer to the host's standard question, jǐ wèi (几位), how many. Two of anything at a stall is liǎng ge (两个). Saying èr ge will be understood, and will sound like a sum read aloud.

The hand for two is index and middle finger, a plain V. This is where visitors from places that count from the thumb come unstuck. Thumb plus index, the continental European two, is a clean Chinese eight, and a breakfast-counter assistant shown it may begin bagging eight mántou (馒头), the plain steamed buns sold by the piece.

Jin and liang, the units behind the price

The figure on a market price board is rarely per kilogram. Produce is priced by the jīn (斤), which on the mainland is half a kilogram, and the board usually says so with the character after the number. A tenth of a jin is a liǎng (两), fifty grams, written with the same character as the quantity two. Hong Kong markets weigh by a heavier catty of their own, so the arithmetic does not travel.

The useful sentence is short: lǎobǎn, zhège duōshao qián yì jīn — boss, how much is this per jin. The answer tends to arrive as a word and a hand together.

老板，这个多少钱一斤？

The liang also turns up on menus, where it confuses in a different way. Shanghai's pan-fried pork buns, shēngjiān (生煎), are traditionally ordered by the liang, commonly four buns to one, the weight referring to the flour and not the finished bun. Chongqing's breakfast noodles, xiǎomiàn (小面), come as èr liǎng or sān liǎng, two or three liang of raw noodles, and here the two stays èr, to avoid saying liǎng twice. Dumpling houses in Beijing often sell jiǎozi (饺子) the same way, sometimes with a minimum order per filling. A server who asks jǐ liǎng (几两) is asking how hungry the table is.

Numbers avoided, numbers sought

Sound governs more than the market. Four, sì, sits close to sǐ (死), death, and some residential towers and hotels leave it off the lift panel, so that the button above three is five and fourteen may be missing as well. Eight, bā, leans toward fā (发), as in prospering; nine echoes jiǔ (久), lasting; six carries the phrase liùliù dà shùn (六六大顺), everything going smoothly.

None of this asks anything of a visitor. It works as a reading aid. A missing lift button is not a fault, the floor on the key card may not match the storeys climbed, and a corridor of private dining rooms numbered 666, 888 and 999 was not numbered by accident.

Trying it at a neighbourhood market

The place to practise is a càishìchǎng (菜市场), the covered produce market most neighbourhoods keep. In Beijing, Sanyuanli Market (三源里菜市场, Sānyuánlǐ) is a walk from Liangmaqiao station (亮马桥站) on Line 10 and is long used to foreign shoppers, which makes it forgiving. In Shanghai, Wuzhong Market (乌中市集, Wūzhōng Shìjí) on Wulumuqi Middle Road (乌鲁木齐中路) is reached from Changshu Road station (常熟路站) on Lines 1 and 7. In Kunming, Zhuanxin Market (篆新农贸市场, Zhuànxīn) fills with wild mushrooms in the summer rains, priced by the jin with a good many fingers in the air.

Mornings are fullest; stalls tend to thin out after lunch and some rest at midday. Hours differ by market and season, so check the listing on Amap (高德地图, Gāodé Dìtú) or Dianping (大众点评, Dàzhòng Diǎnpíng), or ask at the front desk where you are staying. Everyday vegetables are modest in cost, while early-season or imported fruit can be surprisingly dear. Read the per-jin figure on the board and the total on the scale's display before paying.

Many stalls hang QR codes for Alipay (支付宝, Zhīfùbǎo) and WeChat Pay (微信支付, Wēixìn Zhīfù). Whether a foreign card linked to either goes through at a particular stall is best tested on a small purchase, with small notes in a pocket as the fallback. A speaker beside the scale often reads out each amount received, one last spoken copy of the number.

The mistake to avoid is reading the board as per kilogram. Everything then looks half its real price, and an honest total on the scale feels like an overcharge.