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“Termitomyces mushrooms—7 catties 6 mace in total. That’s 342 coppers. Count them carefully!”
“Thank you, Manager!”
“Daughter!”
“Father!”
So she’d come with an adult. He’d assumed she was some poor family’s child—parents bedridden, struggling alone to support the household. ‘Ahem’—seemed he’d imagined too much.
Seeing Zhao Dashu flushed with excitement, his eyes practically glowing green, Zhao Zhenyu knew the yellow rhizome must have fetched an excellent price.
“Father, let’s buy food. Mother and Lihua must be starving.”
Zhao Dashu pulled her aside, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
“Come, come! Daughter, do you know how much we earned today?”
“A lot?”
“Twelve taels and change!”
‘Now that’s substantial.’
“Father, since we made good money today, let’s buy a roast chicken—treat ourselves to meat.” She’d craved meat for ages. In her past life, she’d avoided it entirely for weight loss, even convincing herself it wasn’t tasty.
Now? This malnourished body desperately lacked fat. Even the sight of fatty pork made her mouth water—’the craving was real!’
“Aye, get the fattiest, biggest one!”
“Deal!” She’d considered pork knuckle initially, but remembering her family’s long meatless stretches, she reconsidered. ‘Too rich too fast might upset their stomachs.’ Not only would that be miserable, but the nutritional value would be wasted. ‘No—being this poor meant no wasteful investments.’
“Father, if we were on our own, I’d buy rice flour to nourish Mother and Lihua.”
Zhao Dashu’s expression darkened. True—bringing rice flour home would cause an uproar. If the main household discovered their recent activities, they’d likely confiscate everything and force Zhenyu into riskier mountain foraging.
“But if Mother eats well and regains health, a little brother might follow. Remember what the village physician said? Years of poor diet from household drudgery left her body too depleted to conceive easily.”
A son!
Zhao Dashu’s eyes briefly lit up before dimming again. “Your grandfather would never let us leave. And even if we did, how would we survive?”
‘A childless household had no standing—what village wouldn’t bully such a family?’
“We’ve got over ten taels now—enough to build a house. I’ve plenty of money-making ideas in mind. If we can just leave, we’ll thrive. Father, I can’t bear seeing Mother mistreated at the main house, or watching our hard-earned silver disappear into Big Uncle’s pockets while we dare not eat or drink freely.”
“But your grandfather won’t release us—understand?”
She understood perfectly. ‘Free labor—why would the old man ever let that go?’
This matter required gradual strategy.
“So if Grandfather proposed dividing the household, you’d agree?”
“Absolutely! With you here, splitting means feasting daily. Am I an idiot to stay and suffer?”
Zhao Zhenyu’s lips twitched. ‘Indeed—Father remained Father, clearer-headed than she’d realized.’
“A few days ago I wouldn’t have dared, when we only had three taels to our name. But now? Hmph—I’d cheer if your grandfather kicked us out!” ‘Though admittedly, the old man had been oddly tolerant lately, which complicated things.’
They hurriedly bought provisions—a large bundle of dry rations and a roast chicken—filled their bamboo canteens with hot water, and rushed back.
Reaching the bamboo grove where no one lingered, Zhao Dashu hesitated. “Daughter… take the silver.”
Seeing his pained reluctance, Zhao Zhenyu offered, “You could keep it?”
“No. I might spend it impulsively. Besides…” ‘His mother routinely searched him and Madam Song for hidden coins, especially after work trips. The mere thought made his head throb—her disregard for male dignity was appalling.’
Recognizing her grandmother’s shameless tactics, Zhao Zhenyu sighed. “Then I’ll safeguard it.”
“Hide it well, understand?”
“Understood. Just remember—money comes from earning, not scrimping. Eat and drink properly—no stinginess.”
“That’s my girl!”
‘Her boldness delighted him.’
Zhao Zhenyu glanced at the bamboo grove beside them, then checked the sky. “Father, let’s gather some bamboo shoots. I’ll cook them tonight—see if we can make them edible.”
“They’re terribly bitter.”
“I remember a method to remove the bitterness. Worth trying.”
‘A method from the immortals?!’
Zhao Dashu’s eyes widened. ‘Heavens! Was his daughter becoming one of those legendary, preternaturally clever figures villagers gossiped about? Was nothing beyond her now?’ No—’sitting on gold mines meant nothing if unused.’ They needed to divide the household swiftly and start their prosperous new life.
“Wait here—I’ll gather the shoots.”
‘His daughter was precious now—why should she labor?’ Let him handle manual work while she strategized.
He quickly uprooted a dozen shoots into the basket and tugged Zhao Zhenyu onward.
“Let’s eat on the mountain—fill our stomachs before returning. We’ll hide leftovers beneath the basket’s lining, alright?”
Zhao Zhenyu nearly laughed—her father’s eagerness bordered on comical sycophancy. “Deal!”
Zhao Dashu grinned ear to ear.
Upon reaching the mountainside—
“Wife! Lihua! Quick—come rest! Stop picking—we brought food!”
Little Lihua had long been starving—were it not for Mother insisting those flowers were medicinal, she’d have nibbled them already.
“Father!”
Zhao Dashu cleared a flat boulder, unpacking their haul. “Here—start with a meat bun!”
Lihua clutched the bun gleefully. ‘Today’s tasted even better—richer, meatier.’
“Wife, eat up!”
Madam Song had adapted—accepting whatever her family provided without complaint. ‘Less talk meant less scolding.’
‘What had their daughter said earlier?’ Ah—’share blessings and hardships alike.’
Zhao Dashu, bun clamped in teeth, unwrapped a lotus leaf bundle. Madam Song peeked—’what now?’
The leaf fell open. ‘Gods above—a whole roast chicken?!’